By magic domination, The Flower, the Form within it, The tempest overcame her, But gently, gently blame her- 365 370 Blest Pair! whate'er befall you, 385 1830. THE RIVER DUDDON. A SERIES OF SONNETS. THE River Duddon rises upon Wrynose Fell, on the confines of Westmoreland, Cumberland, and Lancashire; and, having served as a boundary to the two last Counties for the space of about twenty-five miles, enters the Irish Sea, between the Isle of Walney and the Lordship of Millum. TO THE REV. DR. WORDSWORTH (WITH THE SONNETS TO THE RIVER DUDDON, AND OTHER POEMS IN THIS COLLECTION, 1820.) The Minstrels played their Christmas tune The encircling laurels, thick with leaves, Through hill and valley every breeze That scraped the chords with strenuous hand! And who but listened?-till was paid 66 And Merry Christmas" wished to all! 5 ΙΟ 15 O Brother! I revere the choice That took thee from thy native hills; Yet, would that Thou, with me and mine, 20 25 A true revival of the light Which Nature and these rustic Powers, In simple childhood, spread through ours! 30 For pleasure hath not ceased to wait Whether the rich man's sumptuous gate That guards the lowliest of the poor. How touching, when, at midnight, sweep To hear-and sink again to sleep! Or, at an earlier call, to mark, 35 40 By blazing fire, the still suspense Of self-complacent innocence; The mutual nod, the grave disguise Of hearts with gladness brimming o'er ; And some unbidden tears that rise 45 For names once heard, and heard no more; Tears brightened by the serenade For infant in the cradle laid. Ah! not for emerald fields alone, With ambient streams more pure and bright 50 Glittering before the Thunderer's sight, The ground where we were born and reared! Hail, ancient Manners! sure defence, 55 And ye that guard them, Mountains old! 60 Bear with me, Brother! quench the thought To humbler streams, and greener bowers. Yes, they can make, who fail to find, That through the clouds do sometimes steal, Hence, while the imperial City's din A pleased attention I may win To agitations less severe, That neither overwhelm nor cloy, I. 65 70 75 NOT envying Latian shades—if yet they throw A grateful coolness round that crystal Spring, Bandusia, prattling as when long ago The Sabine Bard was moved her praise to sing; Careless of flowers that in perennial blow Round the moist marge of Persian fountains cling; 5 Heedless of Alpine torrents thundering Through ice-built arches radiant as heaven's bow; I seek the birth-place of a native Stream.— light! Better to breathe at large on this clear height Than toil in needless sleep from dream to dream: Pure flow the verse, pure, vigorous, free, and bright, For Duddon, long-loved Duddon, is my theme! II. CHILD of the clouds! remote from every taint Thine are the honours of the lofty waste; quaint 5 Thy cradle decks;-to chant thy birth, thou hast No meaner Poet than the whistling Blast, She guards thee, ruthless Power! who would not spare Those mighty forests, once the bison's screen, 10 Where stalked the huge deer to his shaggy lair' Through paths and alleys roofed with darkest green; Thousands of years before the silent air Was pierced by whizzing shaft of hunter keen! III. 5 How shall I paint thee?-Be this naked stone 10 The deer alluded to is the Leigh, a gigantic species long since extinct. |