« AnteriorContinuar »
As if all needful things would come un- Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale sought
face, To genial faith, still rich in genial good; I | Upon a long gray staff of shaven wood: But how can he expect that others should And, still as I drew near with gentle Build for him, sow for him, and at his pace, call
41 Upon the margin of that moorish flood Love him, who for himself will take no | Motionless as a cloud the old man stood; heed at all?
That heareth not the loud winds when they call,
76 · I thought of Chatterton, the marvelous And moveth altogether, if it move at all.
The sleepless soul that perished in his At length, himself unsettling, he the pond pride;
Stirred with his staff and fixedly did look Oi him who walked in glory and in joy 45 *Upon the muddy water, which he conned, Following his plough, along the mountain As if he had been reading in a book: 81 side:
And now a stranger's privilege I took; By our own spirits are we deified: And, drawing to his side, to him did say We poets in our youth begin in glad- “This morning gives us promise of a ness;
glorious day.” But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
A gentle answer did the old man make, 85
In courteous speech which forth he Now, whether it were by peculiar grace, 50 slowly drew: A leading from above, a something given, And him with further words I thus beYet it befell, that, in this lonely place,
spake, When I with these untoward thoughts “What occupation do you there pursue? had striven,
This is a lonesome place for one like Beside a pool bare to the eye of heaven
you." I saw a man before me unawares: 55 | Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise The oldest man he seemed that ever wore Broke from the sable orbs of his yet vivid gray hairs.
As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie | His words came feebly, from a feeble
60 dressed; So that it seems a thing endued with Choice word, and measured phrase, above sense:
95 Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a Of ordinary men; a stately speech;
Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use, Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun it- Religious men, who give to God and man self;
Such seemed this man, not all alive nor He told, that to these waters he had come dead,
To gather leeches, being old and poor: 100 Nor all asleep-in his extreme old age: 65 Employment hazardous and wearisome! His body was bent double, feet and head And he had many hardships to endure: Coming together in life's pilgrimage; From pond to pond he roamed, from moor As if some dire constraint of pain, or to moor; rage
Housing, with God's good help, by choice Of sickness felt by him in times long past, or chance; A more than human weight upon his | And in this way he gained an honest mainframe had cast. 70 | tenance.
The old man still stood talking by my “God," said I, “be my help and stay side;
secure; But now his voice to me was like a stream I'll think of the leech-gatherer on the Scarce heard; nor word from word could lonely moor!”
140 I divide; And the whole body of the man did seem Like one whom I had met with in a dream;
YEW-TREES Or like a man from some far region sent, To give me human strength, by apt ad There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton monishment.
Which to this day stands single, in the My former thoughts returned: the fear midst that kills;
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore; And hope that is unwilling to be fed; Not loth to furnish weapons for the bands Cold, pain and labor, and all fleshly ills; Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched 5 And mighty poets in their misery dead. To Scotland's heaths; or those that Perplexed, and longing to be comforted, crossed the sea My question eagerly did I renew, 118 And drew their sounding bows at Azin“How is it that you live, and what is it cour, you do?"
Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poictiers.
Of vast circumference and gloom profound He with a smile did then his words repeat; This solitary Tree! a living thing 10 And said, that, gathering leeches, far and Produced too slowly ever to decay; wide
121 Of form and aspect too magnificent He travelled; stirring thus about his feet | To be destroyed. But worthier still The waters of the pools where they abide. of note “Once I could meet with them on every Are those fraternal Four of Borrowdale, side;
Joined in one solemn and capacious But they have dwindled long by slow grove; decay;
125 Huge trunks! and each particular trunk Yet still I persevere, and find them where a growth I may."
Of intertwisted fibres serpentine
Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved; While he was talking thus, the lonely Nor uninformed with Phantasy, and looks place,
That threaten the profane;—a pillared The old man's shape, and speech, all shade, troubled me:
Upon whose grassless floor of red-brown In my mind's eye I seemed to see him hue, pace
By sheddings from the pining umbrage About the weary moors continually, 130 tinged Wandering about alone and silently. Perennially—beneath whose sable roof While I these thoughts within myself Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked pursued,
With unrejoicing berries-ghostly Shapes He, having made a pause, the same dis May meet at noontide; Fear and trembling course renewed.
Silence and Foresight; Death the Skeleton And soon with this he other matter And Time the Shadow;—there to celeblended,
brate, Cheerfully uttered, with demeanor kind, As in a natural temple scattered o'er But stately in the main; and when he With altars undisturbed of mossy stone, 30 ended,
United worship; or in mute repose I could have laughed myself to scorn to To lie, and listen to the mountain flood find
Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost In that decrepit man so firm a mind.
AT THE GRAVE OF BURNS True friends though diversely inclined;
But heart with heart and mind with mind, SEVEN YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH Where the main fibres are entwined, 45
Through Nature's skill, I shiver, Spirit fierce and bold,
May even by contraries be joined
More closely still.
The tear will start, and let it flow;
Thou “poor Inhabitant below,"
At this dread moment-even som
Might we together And have I then thy bones so near,
Have sat and talked where gowans blow, And thou forbidden to appear?
Or on wild heather. As if it were thyself that's here
What treasures would have then been I shrink with pain;
placed And both my wishes and my fear
Within my reach; of knowledge graced Alike are vain.
By fancy what a rich repast!
But why go on?Off weight-nor press on weight!-away | Oh! spare to sweep, thou mournful blast, Dark thoughts!—they came, but not to
His grave grass-grown.
60 stay; With chastened feelings would I pay 15
There, too, a son, his joy and pride,
(Not three weeks past the stripling died,) To him, and aught that hides his clay Lies gathered to his father's side, From mortal view.
Yet one to which is not denied 05 Fresh as the flower, whose modest worth
Some sad delight: He sang, his genius “glinted” forth, 20
For he is safe, a quiet bed
Hath early found among the dead,
Harbored where none can be misled,
Wronged, or distressed;
And surely here it may be said The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow, 25
That such are blest. The struggling heart, where be they | And oh! for thee, by pitying grace now?
Checked oft-times in a devious race,
Where man is laid
For which it prayed! I mourned with thousands, but as one
Sighing I turned away; but ere More deeply grieved, for He was gone
Night fell I heard, or seemed to hear, 80 Whose light I hailed when first it shone,
Music that sorrow comes not near,
A ritual hymn,
Chaunted in love that casts out fear
The same whom in my school-boy days
SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT
I saw her upon nearer view,
A spirit, yet a woman too!
Her household motions light and free, O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
And steps of virgin-liberty; I hear thee and rejoice.
A countenance in which did meet O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Sweet records, promises as sweet; Or but a wandering Voice?
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food; While I am lying on the grass - 5 For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Thy twofold shout I hear,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and From hill to hill it seems to pass,
smiles. At once far off, and near.
And now I see with eye serene Though babbling only to the vale, The very pulse of the machine; Of sunshine and of flowers,
A being breathing thoughtful breath, Thou bringest unto me a tale
A traveller between life and death; Of visionary hours.
The reason firm, the temperate will, 25
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill: Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! A perfect woman, nobly planned, Even yet thou art to me
To warn, to comfort, and command; No bird, but an invisible thing, 15 And yet a spirit still, and bright A voice, a mystery;
| With something of angelic light. 30
· IWANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD • 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, 5 Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay:
10 Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they
y Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay
15 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 In vacant or in pensive mood,
20 They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
And they a blissful course may hold
if I may. Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their
thee, are fresh and strong.
55 And in the light of truth thy bondman let
ODE TO DUTY. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail hu
around them cast.
CHARACTER OF THE HAPPY
WARRIOR Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms should wish to be? It is the generous Spirit, who, when
brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish