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From rapture, lying softly on her breast !
pass At God's appointed hour to them who tread 10 Heaven's sapphire pavement, yet breathed well
content, Well pleased, her foot should print earth's
common grass, Lived thankful for day's light, for daily bread, For health, and time in obvious duty spent.
TO A PAINTER. ALL praise the Likeness by thy skill portrayed ; But 'tis a fruitless task to paint for me, Who, yielding not to changes Time has made, By the habitual light of memory see Eyes unbedimmed, see bloom that cannot fade, And smiles that from their birth-place ne'er shall flee
6 Into the land where ghosts and phantoms be; And, seeing this, own nothing in its stead. Couldst thou go back into far-distant years, Or share with me, fond thought! that inward eye,
10 Then, and then only, Painter! could thy Art The visual powers of Nature satisfy, Which hold, whate'er to common sight appears, Their sovereign empire in a faithful heart.
ON THE SAME SUBJECT. Though I beheld at first with blank surprise This Work, I now have gazed on it so long I see its truth with unreluctant eyes ; O, my Beloved ! I have done thee wrong, Conscious of blessedness, but, whence it sprung, Ever too heedless, as I now perceive : Morn into noon did pass, noon into eve, And the old day was welcome as the young, As welcome, and as beautiful-in sooth More beautiful, as being a thing more holy: 10 Thanks to thy virtues, to the eternal youth Of all thy goodness, never melancholy; To thy large heart and humble mind, that cast Into one vision, future, present, past.
1841. XXXIV. HARK ! 'tis the Thrush, undaunted, undeprest, By twilight premature of cloud and rain; Nor does that roaring wind deaden his strain Who carols thinking of his Love and nest, And seems, as more incited, still more blest. S Thanks; thou hast snapped a fire-side
Prisoner's chain, Exulting Warbler! eased a fretted brain, And in a moment charmed my cares to rest. Yes, I will forth, bold Bird ! and front the blast, That we may sing together, if thou wilt, 10 So loud, so clear, my Partner through life's day, Mute in her nest love-chosen, if not love-built Like thine, shall gladden, as in seasons past, Thrilled by loose snatches of the social Lay.
RYDAL MOUNT, 1838.
XXXV. 'Tis He whose yester-evening's high disdain Beat back the roaring storm—but how subdued His day-break note, a sad vicissitude ! Does the hour's drowsy weight his glee restrain ? Or, like the nightingale, her joyous vein 5 Pleased to renounce, does this dear Thrush
attune His voice to suit the temper of yon Moon Doubly depressed, setting, and in her wane? Rise, tardy Sun! and let the Songster prove (The balance trembling between night and morn No longer) with what ecstasy upborne II He can pour forth his spirit. In heaven above, And earth below, they best can serve true gladness Who meet most feelingly the calls of sadness.
Oh what a Wreck! how changed in mien and
speech! Yet—though dread Powers, that work in
mystery, spin Entanglings of the brain; though shadows
stretch O'er the chilled heart-reflect ; far, far within Hers is a holy Being, freed from Sin.
5 She is not what she seems, a forlorn wretch, But delegated Spirits comfort fetch To Her from heights that Reason may not win. Like Children, She is privileged to hold Divine communion; both to live and move, 10 Whate'er to shallow Faith their ways unfold, Inly illumined by Heaven's pitying love; Love pitying innocence not long to last, In them—in Her our sins and sorrows past.
XXXVII. INTENT on gathering wool from hedge and brake Yon busy Little-ones rejoice that soon A poor old Dame will bless them for the boon: Great is their glee while flake they add to flake With rival earnestness; far other strife 5 Than will hereafter move them, if they make Pastime their idol, give their day of life To pleasure snatched for reckless pleasure's
sake. Can pomp and show allay one heart-born grief? Pains which the World inflicts can she requite? Not for an interval however brief; The silent thoughts that search for stedfast
light, Love from her depths, and Duty in her might, And Faith—these only yield secure relief.
March 8th, 1842.
A PLEA FOR AUTHORS, MAY, 1838.
fence. “What! lengthened privilege, a lineal tie, For Books !” Yes, heartless Ones, or be it proved
lo That 'tis a fault in Us to have lived and loved Like others, with like temporal hopes to die;
No public harm that Genius from her course Be turned ; and streams of truth dried up, even
at their source!
VALEDICTORY SONNET. Closing the Volume of Sonnets published in 1838. SERVING no haughty Muse, my hands have here Disposed some cultured Flowerets (drawn from
spots Where they bloomed singly, or in scattered
knots), Each kind in several beds of one parterre; Both to allure the casual Loiterer, And that, so placed, my Nurslings may requite Studious regard with opportune delight, Nor be unthanked, unless I fondly err. But metaphor dismissed, and thanks apart, Reader, farewell! My last words let them beIf in this book Fancy and Truth agree; II If simple Nature trained by careful Art Through It have won a passage to thy heart; Grant me thy love, I crave no other fee!
TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D.,
MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL, After the perusal of his “ Theophilus Anglicanus,"
recently published. ENLIGHTENED Teacher, gladly from thy hand Have I received this proof of pains bestowed By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road That, in our native isle, and every land, The Church, when trusting in divine command 5