Hail, bards of mightier grasp! on you I chiefly call, the chosen few,
Who cast not off the acknowledged guide, Who faltered not, nor turned aside; Whose lofty genius could survive Privation, under sorrow thrive ; In whom the fiery muse revered The symbol of a snow-white beard, Bedewed with meditative tears Dropped from the lenient cloud of years.
Brothers in soul! though distant times Produced you nursed in various climes, Ye, when the orb of life had waned, A plenitude of love retained: Hence, while in you each sad regret By corresponding hope was met, Ye lingered among human kind, Sweet voices for the passing wind; Departing sunbeams, loth to stop, Though smiling on the last hill-top! Such to the tender-hearted maid Even ere her joys begin to fade; Such, haply, to the rugged chief By fortune crushed, or tamed by grief; Appears, on Morven's lonely shore, Dim-gleaming through imperfect lore, The son of Fingal; such was blind Maeonides of ampler mind; Such Milton, to the fountain-head Of glory by Urania led!
WE saw, but surely, in the motley crowd, Not one of us has felt the far-famed sight; How could we feel it? each the other's blight, Hurried and hurrying, volatile and loud.
O for those motions only that invite The ghost of Fingal to his tuneful cave By the breeze entered, and wave after wave Softly embosoming the timid light!
And by one votary who at will might stand Gazing and take into his mind and heart, With undistracted reverence, the effect
Of those proportions where the almighty hand That made the worlds, the sovereign architect, Has deigned to work as if with human art!
After the Crowd had departed.
THANKS for the lessons of this spot, fit school For the presumptuous thoughts that would assign Mechanic laws to agency divine;
And, measuring heaven by earth, would overrule Infinite power. The pillared vestibule, Expanding yet precise, the roof embowed, Might seem designed to humble man, when proud Of his best workmanship by plan and tool. Down-bearing with his whole Atlantic weight Of tide and tempest on the structure's base, And flashing to that structure's topmost height, Ocean has proved its strength, and of its grace In calms is conscious, finding for his freight Of softest music some responsive place.
FLOWERS ON THE TOP OF THE PILLARS AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE CAVE
HOPE smiled when your nativity was cast, Children of summer! Ye fresh flowers that brave What summer here escapes not, the fierce wave, And whole artillery of the western blast,
Battering the temple's front, its long-drawn nave Smiting, as if each moment were their last. But ye, bright flowers, on frieze and architrave Survive, and once again the pile stands fast : Calm as the universe, from specular towers Of heaven contemplated by spirits pure With mute astonishment, it stands sustained Through every part in symmetry, to endure, Unhurt, the assault of time with all his hours, As the supreme artificer ordained.
How sad a welcome! To each voyager Some ragged child holds up for sale a store Of wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shore Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir, Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer. Yet is yon neat trim church a grateful speck Of novelty amid the sacred wreck
Strewn far and wide. Think, proud philosopher! Fallen though she be, this glory of the west, Still on her sons the beams of mercy shine; And "hopes, perhaps more heavenly bright than thine, A grace by thee unsought and unpossest, A faith more fixed, a rapture more divine Shall gild their passage to eternal rest."
"THERE!" SAID A STRIPLING, POINTING WITH MEET PRIDE"
"THERE!" said a stripling, pointing with meet pride Towards a low roof with green trees half concealed, "Is Mosgiel farm; and that's the very field
Where Burns ploughed up the daisy." Far and wide
A plain below stretched seaward, while, descried Above sea-clouds, the peaks of Arran rose; And, by that simple notice, the repose Of earth, sky, sea, and air, was vivified. Beneath "the random bield of clod or stone" Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.
THE floods are roused, and will not soon be weary; Down from the Pennine Alps 1 how fiercely sweeps CROGLIN, the stately Eden's tributary!
He raves, or through some moody passage creeps Plotting new mischief; out again he leaps
Into broad light, and sends, through regions airy, That voice which soothed the nuns while on the steeps They knelt in prayer, or sang to blissful Mary. That union ceased: then, cleaving easy walks Through crags, and smoothing paths beset with danger, Came studious taste; and many a pensive stranger Dreams on the banks, and to the river talks. What change shall happen next to Nunnery dell? Canal, and viaduct, and railway, tell!
THE MONUMENT COMMONLY CALLED LONG MEG AND HER DAUGHTERS, NEAR THE RIVER EDEN
A WEIGHT of awe not easy to be borne, Fell suddenly upon my spirit-cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past, When first I saw that family forlorn.
1 The chain of Crossfell.
Speak thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn The power of years-pre-eminent, and placed Apart, to overlook the circle vast-
Speak, giant-mother! tell it to the morn While she dispels the cumbrous shades of night; Let the moon hear, emerging from a cloud; At whose behest uprose on British ground That sisterhood, in hieroglyphic round Forth-shadowing, some have deemed, the infinite The inviolable God, that tames the proud!
MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes To pace the ground, if path be there or none, While a fair region round the traveller lies Which he forbears again to look upon; Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene, The work of fancy, or some happy tone Of meditation, slipping in between The beauty coming and the beauty gone. If thought and love desert us, from that day Let us break off all commerce with the muse : With thought and love companions of our way, Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,
The mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews Of inspiration on the humblest lay.
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