One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest: Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! Dost lead the revels of the May; While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, A Life, a Presence like the Air, Upon yon tuft of hazel trees, There! where the flutter of his wings The Bird my dazzled sight deceives, As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain X. TO A SKY-LARK. Up with me! up with me into the clouds! Up with me, up with me into the clouds! With clouds and sky about thee ringing, That spot which seems so to thy mind! 1803. I have walked through wildernesses dreary And to-day my heart is weary; Had I now the wings of a Faery, Up to thee would I fly. There is madness about thee, and joy divine Lift me, guide me high and high To thy banqueting-place in the sky. Joyous as morning, Thou art laughing and scorning; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain river Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven, And hope for higher raptures, when Life's day is done. XI. TO THE SMALL CELANDINE.* PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, They will have a place in story: "Tis the little Celandine. Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; Up and down the heavens they go, * Common Pilewort.' Modest, yet withal an Elf Ere a leaf is on a bush, In the time before the thrush Telling tales about the sun, When we've little warmth, or none. Poets, vain men in their mood! Travel with the multitude: Never heed them; I aver That they all are wanton wooers ; But the thrifty cottager, Who stirs little out of doors, Joys to spy thee near her home; Spring is coming, Thou art come! |