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The tear will start, and let it flow;
Might we together
Or on wild heather.
What treasures would have then been placed
But why go on ?—
His grave grass-grown.
There, too, a Son, his joy and pride,
Some sad delight.
For he is safe, a quiet bed
Hath early found among the dead,
Harboured where none can be misled,
Wronged, or distrest;
That such are blest.
And oh for Thee, by pitying grace
Where Man is laid
For which it prayed!
Sighing I turned away; but ere
A ritual hymn,
Thoughts Suggested The Day Following, On The Banks Of Nlth, Near The Poet's Residence.
Too frail to keep the lofty vow
That must have followed when his brow
Was wreathed—' The Vision' tells us how—
With holly spray,
And passed away.
Well might such thoughts, dear Sister, throng
In social grief-
To seek relief.
But, leaving each unquiet theme
Where gentlest judgments may misdeem,
And prompt to welcome every gleam
Of good and fair,
Breathe hopeful air.
Enough of sorrow, wreck, and blight;
His course was true,
And virtue grew.
Yes, freely let our hearts expand,
We wont to stray,
Of each sweet Lay.
How oft inspired must he have trode
With mirth elate,
The Rustic sate.
Proud thoughts that Image overawes,
Before it humbly let us pause,
And ask of Nature, from what cause
And by what rules
That shames the Schools.
Through busiest street and loneliest glen
Are felt the flashes of his pen:
He rules mid winter snows, and when
Bees fill their hives:
His power survives.
What need of fields in some far clime
From genuine springs,
Folds up his wings?
Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven
With vain endeavour,
Effaced for ever.
But why to Him confine the prayer,
With all that live?—
'She Was A Phantom.'
She was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair,
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
'I WANDERED LONELY.'
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie