Turn from the sight, enamoured Muse-we must; And, if thou canst, leave them without regret! XIII. OPEN PROSPECT. HAIL to the fields-with Dwellings sprinkled o'er, And one small hamlet, under a green hill Clustering, with barn and byre, and spouting mill! A glance suffices;-should we wish for more, Gay June would scorn us. But when bleak winds roar 5 10 Through the stiff lance-like shoots of pollard ash, XIV. O MOUNTAIN Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot 5 Utterly to desert, the haunts of men, IO Though simple thy companions were and few; XV. FROM this deep chasm, where quivering sunbeams play 5 Upon its loftiest crags, mine eyes behold 10 XVI. AMERICAN TRADITION. SUCH fruitless questions may not long beguile Or plague the fancy 'mid the sculptured shows Conspicuous yet where Oroonoko Ĥlows; There would the Indian answer with a smile Aimed at the White Man's ignorance the while, Of the GREAT WATERS telling how they rose, Covered the plains, and, wandering where they chose, Mounted through every intricate defile, 9 Triumphant.-Inundation wide and deep, XVII. RETURN. A DARK plume fetch me from yon blasted yew, Perched on whose top the Danish Raven croaks; Aloft, the imperial Bird of Rome invokes Departed ages, shedding where he flew Loose fragments of wild wailing, that bestrew 5 The clouds and thrill the chambers of the rocks; And into silence hush the timorous flocks, That, calmly couching while the nightly dew Moistened each fleece, beneath the twinkling Or near that mystic Round of Druid frame Deep into patient Earth, from whose smooth breast it came! XVIII. SEATHWAITE CHAPEL. SACRED Religion! "mother of form and fear," Dread arbitress of mutable respect, 1 See Humboldt's Personal Narrative. 2 See Note. New rites ordaining when the old are wrecked, Or cease to please the fickle worshipper; Mother of Love! (that name best suits thee here) 5 Mother of Love! for this deep vale protect And tender Goldsmith crowned with deathless praise! XIX. TRIBUTARY STREAM. My frame hath often trembled with delight When hope presented some far-distant good, That seemed from heaven descending, like the flood Of yon pure waters, from their aëry height Hurrying, with lordly Duddon to unite; Who, 'mid a world of images imprest On the calm depth of his transparent breast, 1 See Note. 5 IO XX. THE PLAIN OF DONNERDALE. THE old inventive Poets, had they seen, 5 ΙΟ And countenanced like a soft cerulean sky, Shalt change thy temper; and, with many a shock Given and received in mutual jeopardy, XXI. WHENCE that low voice?—A whisper from the heart, That told of days long past, when here I roved 5 With friends and kindred tenderly beloved; And smothered joys into new being start. |