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Wuen haughty expectations prostrate lie,
Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
The stars are mansions built by Nature's hand,
Rich mellow bearings, that for thanks shall call:
To hope—in Parents, sinful above all.
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,
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,
Gaze on the moon by parting clouds revealed.
open out, with
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.
COMPOSED ON THE BANKS OF A ROCKY STREAM.
'gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.'
Press the point home, or falter and demur,
These natural council-seats your acrid blood
Might cool ;-and, as the Genius of the flood
Stoops willingly to animate and spur
But surely less so than your far-fetched themes!
Of the propitious hour, thou may'st perceive
The local Deity, with oozy hair
BY MR. W. WESTALL'S VIEWS OF THE CAVES, ETC. Recumbent: Him thou may’st behold, who hides
His lineaments by day, yet there presides,
Teaching the docile waters how to turn, Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts,
Or (if need be) impediment to spurn,
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;
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And if these Transcripts of the private heart
Breathed from eternity; for as a dart
Cleaves the blank air, Life flies: now every day
Is but a glimmering spoke in the swift wheel Ar early dawn, or rather when the air
Of the revolving week. Away, away,
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
* Waters (as Mr. Westall informs us in the letter-press refixed to his admirable views) are invariably found to ow through these caverns.
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 !
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!
OXFORD, MAY 30, 1820.
FAME tells of groves—from England far away-
* Wallachia is the country alluded to.
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 !
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
TO THE LADY E. B. AND THE HON. MISS P.
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
* Glyn Myrvr.