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Wuen haughty expectations prostrate lie,
And grandeur crouches like a guilty thing,
Oft shall the lowly weak, till nature bring
Mature release, in fair society
Survive, and Fortune's utmost anger try;
Like these frail snow-drops that together cling,
And nod their helmets, smitten by the wing
Of many a furious whirl-blast sweeping by.
Observe the faithful flowers ! if small to great
May lead the thoughts, thus struggling used to stand
The Emathian phalanx, nobly obstinate;
And so the bright immortal Theban band,
Whom onset, fiercely urged at Jove's command,
Might overwhelm, but could not separate !

Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless :
The lake below reflects it not; the sky
Muffled in clouds, affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet, round the body of that joyless Thing
Which sends so far its melancholy light,
Perhaps are seated in domestic ring
A gay society with faces bright,
Conversing, reading, laughing ;-or they sing,
While hearts and voices in the song unite.

XXV.

XXII.
Hail, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!
Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night;
But studious only to remove from sight
Day's mutable distinctions.--Ancient Power!
Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower,
To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest
Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest
On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower
Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him was seen
The self-same Vision which we now behold,
At thy meek bidding, shadowy Power! brought

forth;
These mighty barriers, and the gulf between ;
The flood, the stars,-a spectacle as old
As the beginning of the heavens and earth!

The stars are mansions built by Nature's hand,
And, haply, there the spirits of the blest
Dwell, clothed in radiance, their immortal vest;
Huge Ocean shows, within his yellow strand,
A habitation marvellously planned,
For life to occupy in love and rest ;
All that we see—is dome, or vault, or nest,
Or fortress, reared at Nature's sage command.
Glad thought for every season! but the Spring
Gave it while cares were weighing on my heart,
'Mid song of birds, and insects murmuring ;
And while the youthful year's prolific art-
Of bud, leaf, blade, and flower—was fashioning
Abodes where self-disturbance hath no part.

XXVI.

XXIII.
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the sky,
• How silently, and with how wan a face ! DESPONDING Father! mark this altered bough,
Where art thou! Thou so often seen on high So beautiful of late, with sunshine warmed,
Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race! Or moist with dews; what more unsightly now,
L'nhappy Nuns, whose common breath 's a sigh Its blossoms shrivelled, and its fruit, if formed,
Which they would stifle, move at such a pace! Invisible ? yet Spring her genial brow
The northern Wind, to call thee to the chase, Knits not o'er that discolouring and decay
Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I As false to expectation. Nor fret thou
The power of Merlin, Goddess ! this should be: At like unlovely process in the May
And all the stars, fast as the clouds were riven, Of human life: a Stripling's graces blow,
Should sally forth, to keep thee company, Fade and are shed, that from their timely fall
Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue (Misdeem it not a cankerous change) may grow
heaven;

Rich mellow bearings, that for thanks shall call:
But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be given, In all men, sinful is it to be slow
Queen both for beauty and for majesty.

To hope—in Parents, sinful above all.

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CAPTIVITY.- MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.

Four fiery steeds impatient of the rein “ As the cold aspect of a sunless way

Whirled us o'er sunless ground beneath a sky Strikes through the Traveller's frame with deadlier As void of sunshine, when, from that wide plain, chill,

Clear tops of far-off mountains we descry, Oft as appears a grove, or obvious hill,

Like a Sierra of cerulean Spain, Glistening with unparticipated ray,

All light and lustre. Did no heart reply? Or shining slope where he must never stray; Yes, there was One ;—for One, asunder fly So joys, remembered without wish or will, The thousand links of that ethereal chain; Sharpen the keenest edge of present ill,

vales

grove

and field, On the crushed heart a heavier burthen lay.

And the fair front of many a happy Home; Just Heaven, contract the compass of my mind

Such tempting spots as into vision come To fit proportion with my altered state!

While Soldiers, weary of the arms they wield Quench those felicities whose light I find

And sick at heart of strifeful Christendom,
Reflected in my bosom all too late !

Gaze on the moon by parting clouds revealed.
O be my spirit, like my thraldom, strait;
And, like mine eyes that stream with sorrow, blind!”

And green

open out, with

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ST. CATHERINE OF LEDBURY.

BROOK! whose society the Poet seeks, When human touch (as monkish books attest)

Intent his wasted spirits to renew; Nor was applied nor could be, Ledbury bells

And whom the curious Painter doth pursue Broke forth in concert flung adown the dells,

Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks, And upward, high as Malvern's cloudy crest ;

And tracks thee dancing down thy water-breaks ; Sweet tones, and caught by a noble Lady blest

If wish were mine some type of thee to view, To rapture! Mabel listened at the side

Thee, and not thee thyself, I would not do Of her loved mistress : soon the music died,

Like Grecian Artists, give thee human cheeks, And Catherine said, Here I set up my rest.

Channels for tears; no Naiad should'st thou be, Warned in a dream, the Wanderer long had sought Have neither limbs, feet, feathers, joints nor hairs : A home that by such miracle of sound

It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee Must be revealed :—she heard it now, or felt

With purer robes than those of flesh and blood, The deep, deep joy of a confiding thought;

And hath bestowed on thee a safer good; And there, a saintly Anchoress, she dwelt

Unwearied joy, and life without its cares. Till she exchanged for heaven that happy ground.

XXXII.

COMPOSED ON THE BANKS OF A ROCKY STREAM.

xxix.

'gives to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name.'
Though narrow be that old Man's cares, and near, Dogmatic Teachers, of the snow-white fur !
The poor old Man is greater than he seems: Ye wrangling Schoolmen, of the scarlet hood!
For he hath waking empire, wide as dreams; Who, with a keenness not to be withstood,
An ample sovereignty of eye and ear.

Press the point home, or falter and demur,
Rich are his walks with supernatural cheer; Checked in your course by many a teasing burr;
The region of his inner spirit teems

These natural council-seats your acrid blood
With vital sounds and monitory gleams

Might cool ;-and, as the Genius of the flood
Of high astonishment and pleasing fear.

Stoops willingly to animate and spur
He the seven birds bath seen, that never part, Each lighter function slumbering in the brain,
Seen the Seven Wuistlers in their nightly rounds, Yon eddying balls of foam, these arrowy gleams
And counted them : and oftentimes will start- That o'er the pavement of the surging streams
For overhead are sweeping Gabriel's Hounds Welter and fash, a synod might detain
Doomed, with their impious Lord, the flying Hart With subtle speculations, haply vain,
To chase for ever, on aërial grounds!

But surely less so than your far-fetched themes!

XXXIII.

Of the propitious hour, thou may'st perceive

The local Deity, with oozy hair
TIIS, AND THE TWO FOLLOWING, WERE SUGGESTED And mineral crown, beside his jagged urn,

BY MR. W. WESTALL'S VIEWS OF THE CAVES, ETC. Recumbent: Him thou may’st behold, who hides
IN YORKSHIRE.

His lineaments by day, yet there presides,
Pure element of waters! wheresoe'er

Teaching the docile waters how to turn, Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts,

Or (if need be) impediment to spurn,
Green herbs, bright flowers, and berry-bearing and force their passage to the salt-sea tides !

plants,
Rise into life and in thy train appear:
And, through the sunny portion of the year,
Swift insects shine, thy hovering pursuivants :

XXXVI.
And, if thy bounty fail, the forest pants;

COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPT. 3, 1802. And hart and hind and hunter with his spear, Languish and droop together. Nor unfelt

Earth has not any thing to show more fair: In man's perturbed soul thy sway benign ;

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by And, haply, far within the marble belt

A sight so touching in its majesty: Of central earth, where tortured Spirits pine

This City now doth, like a garment, wear For grace and goodness lost, thy murmurs melt

The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Their anguish,—and they blend sweet songs with Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie thine.*

Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep

In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
XXXIV.

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
MALHAM cove.

The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Was the aim frustrated by force or guile,

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
When giants scooped from out the rocky ground, And all that mighty heart is lying still !
Tier under tier, this semicirque profound !
(Giants—the same who built in Erin's isle
That Causeway with incomparable toil !)-
O, had this vast theatric structure wound
With finished sweep into a perfect round,

CONCLUSION.
No mightier work had gained the plausive smile
Of all-beholding Phæbus! But, alas,
Vain earth ! false world! Foundations must be laid If these brief Records, by the Muses’ art
In Heaven; for, ʼmid the wreck of is and was, Produced as lonely Nature or the strife
Things incomplete and purposes betrayed That animates the scenes of public life
Make sadder transits o'er thoughts optic glass Inspired, may in thy leisure claim a part;
Than noblest objects utterly decayed.

And if these Transcripts of the private heart
Have gained a sanction from thy falling tears ;
Then I repent not. But my soul hath fears

Breathed from eternity; for as a dart
XXXV.

Cleaves the blank air, Life flies: now every day
GORDALE.

Is but a glimmering spoke in the swift wheel Ar early dawn, or rather when the air

Of the revolving week. Away, away,
Glimmers with fading light, and shadowy Eve All fitful cares, all transitory zeal !
Is busiest to confer and to bereave;

So timely Grace the immortal wing may heal, Then, pensive Votary! let thy feet repair

And honour rest upon the senseless clay. ro Gordale-chasm, terrific as the lair Where the young lions couch ; for so, by leave * This line alludes to Sonnets which will be found in

another Class.

XXXVII.

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* Waters (as Mr. Westall informs us in the letter-press refixed to his admirable views) are invariably found to ow through these caverns.

IV.

I.

PART III.

RECOLLECTION OF THE PORTRAIT OF KING HENRY

EIGHTH, TRINITY LODGE, CAMBRIDGE. Though the bold wings of Poesy affect

The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, The clouds, and wheel around the mountain tops Are yet before me; yet do I behold Rejoicing, from her loftiest height she drops The broad full visage, chest of amplest mould, Well pleased to skim the plain with wild flowers The vestments 'broidered with barbaric pride : deckt,

And lo! a poniard, at the Monarch's side, Or muse in solemn grove whose shades protect Hangs ready to be grasped in sympathy The lingering dew—there steals along, or stops With the keen threatenings of that fulgent eye, Watching the least small bird that round her hops, Below the white-rimmed bonnet, far-descried. Or creeping worm, with sensitive respect.

Who trembles now at thy capricious mood? Her functions are they therefore less divine, 'Mid those surrounding Worthies, haughty King, Her thoughts less deep, or void of grave intent We rather think, with grateful mind sedate, Her simplest fancies? Should that fear be thine, How Providence educeth, from the spring Aspiring Votary, ere thy hand present

Of lawless will, unlooked-for streams of good, One offering, kneel before her modest shrine, Which neither force shall check nor time abate ! With brow in penitential sorrow bent !

V.

II.

ON THE DEATH OF HIS MAJESTY (GEORGE THE THIRD). OXFORD, MAY 30, 1820.

WARD of the Law !-dread Shadow of a King! Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth !

Whose realm had dwindled to one stately room ; In whose collegiate shelter England's Flowers Whose universe was gloom immersed in gloom, Expand, enjoying through their vernal hours Darkness as thick as life o'er life could fling, The air of liberty, the light of truth;

Save haply for some feeble glimmering Much have ye suffered from Time’s gnawing tooth : Of Faith and Hope—if thou, by nature's doom, Yet, 0 ye spires of Oxford ! domes and towers ! Gently hast sunk into the quiet tomb, Gardens and groves ! your presence overpowers

Why should we bend in grief, to sorrow cling, The soberness of reason ; till, in sooth,

When thankfulness were best?-Fresh-flowing tears, Transformed, and rushing on a bold exchange, Or, where tears flow not, sigh succeeding sigh, I slight my own beloved Cam, to range

Yield to such after-thought the sole reply Where silver Isis leads my stripling feet;

Which justly it can claim. The Nation hears Pace the long avenue, or glide adown

In this deep knell, silent for threescore years, The stream-like windings of that glorious street- An unexampled voice of awful memory! An eager Novice robed in fluttering gown!

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OXFORD, MAY 30, 1820.
SHAME on this faithless heart! that could allow
Such transport, though but for a moment's space;
Not while-to aid the spirit of the place
The crescent moon clove with its glittering prow
The clouds, or night-bird sang from shady bough;
But in plain daylight :-She, too, at my side,
Who, with her heart's experience satisfied,
Maintains in violate its slightest vow !
Sweet Fancy! other gifts must I receive;
Proofs of a higher sovereignty I claim;
Take from her brow the withering flowers of eve,
And to that brow life's morning wreath restore;
Let her be comprehended in the frame
Of these illusions, or they please no more.

FAME tells of groves—from England far away-
* Groves that inspire the Nightingale to trill
And modulate, with subtle reach of skill
Elsewhere unmatched, her ever-varying lay;
Such bold report I venture to gainsay:
For I have heard the quire of Richmond hill
Chanting, with indefatigable bill,
Strains that recalled to mind a distant day ;
When, haply under shade of that same wood,
And scarcely conscious of the dashing oars
Plied steadily between those willowy shores,
The sweet-souled Poet of the Seasons stood -
Listening, and listening long, in rapturous mood,
Ye heavenly Birds ! to your Progenitors.

* Wallachia is the country alluded to.

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A PARSONAGE IN OXFORDSHIRE. Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends, Is marked by no distinguishable line; The turf unites, the pathways intertwine; And, wheresoe'er the stealing footstep tends, Garden, and that Domain where kindred, friends, And neighbours rest together, here confound Their several features, mingled like the sound Of many waters, or as evening blends With shady night. Soft airs, from shrub and flower, Waft fragrant greetings to each silent grave; And while those lofty poplars gently wave Their tops, between them comes and goes a sky Bright as the glimpses of eternity, To saints accorded in their mortal hour.

TO THE TORRENT AT THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE, NORTH

WALES 1824. How art thou named ? In search of what strange land From what huge height, descending? Can such force Of waters issue from a British source, Or hath not Pindus fed thee, where the band Of Patriots scoop their freedom out, with hand Desperate as thine? Or come the incessant shocks From that young Stream, that smites the throbbing

rocks Of Viamala ? There I seem to stand, As in life's morn; permitted to behold, From the dread chasm, woods climbing above woods, In pomp that fades not; everlasting snows; And skies that ne'er relinquish their repose; Such power possess the family of foods Over the minds of Poets, young or old !

VIII.

XI.

IN THE WOODS OF RYDAL.

COMPOSED AMONG THE RUINS OF A CASTLE IN NORTH

WALES. THROUGH shattered galleries, ʼmid roofless halls, Wandering with timid footsteps oft betrayed, The Stranger sighs, nor scruples to upbraid Old Time, though he, gentlest among the Thralls Of Destiny, upon these wounds hath laid His lenient touches, soft as light that falls, From the wan Moon, upon the towers and walls, Light deepening the profoundest sleep of shade. Relic of Kings! Wreck of forgotten wars, To winds abandoned and the prying stars, Time loves Thee! at his call the Seasons twine Luxuriant wreaths around thy forehead hoar; And, though past pomp no changes can restore, A soothing recompence, his gift, is thine !

Wild Redbreast! hadst thou at Jemima's lip
Pecked, as at mine, thus boldly, Love might say,
A half-blown rose had tempted thee to sip
Its glistening dews; but hallowed is the clay
Which the Muse warms; and I, whose head is grey,
Am not unworthy of thy fellowship;
Nor could I let one thought-one motion-slip
That might thy sylvan confidence betray.
For are we not all His without whose care
Vouchsafed no sparrow falleth to the ground?
Who gives his Angels wings to speed through air,
And rolls the planets through the blue profound;
Then peck or perch, fond Flutterer ! nor forbear
To trust a Poet in still musings bound.

IX.

TO THE LADY E. B. AND THE HON. MISS P.

XII.

Composed in the Grounds of Plass Newidd, near Llangollen, 1824. A STREAM, to mingle with your favourite Dee, Along the VALE OF Meditation * flows; So styled by those fierce Britons, pleased to see In Nature's face the expression of repose ; Or haply there some pious hermit chose To live and die, the peace of heaven his aim; To whom the wild sequestered region owes, At this late day, its sanctifying name. Glyx CaFAILLGAROCH, in the Cambrian tongue, In ours, the Vale of FRIENDSHIP, let this spot Be named; where, faithful to a low-roofed Cot, On Deva's banks, ye have abode so long; Sisters in love, a love allowed to climb, Even on this earth, above the reach of Time !

When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle
Like a Form sculptured on a monument
Lay couched; on him or his dread bow unbent
Some wild Bird oft might settle and beguile
The rigid features of a transient smile,
Disperse the tear, or to the sigh give vent,
Slackening the pains of ruthless banishment
From his lov'd home, and from heroic toil.
And trust that spiritual Creatures round us move,
Griefs to allay which Reason cannot heal ;
Yea, veriest reptiles have sufficed to prove
To fettered wretchedness, that no Bastile
Is deep enough to exclude the light of love,
Though man for brother man has ceased to feel.

* Glyn Myrvr.

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