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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; 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.

boy, 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:

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
Couched on the bald top of an eminence; chest,
Wonder to all who do the same espy, But each in solemn order followed each,
By what means it could thither come, and With something of a lofty utterance

60 dressed; So that it seems a thing endued with Choice word, and measured phrase, above sense:

the reach

95 Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a Of ordinary men; a stately speech; shelf

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;

their dues.

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 main-
frame had cast.




you do?


I 21

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,

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 And said, that, gathering leeches, far and Produced too slowly ever to decay; wide

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;

15 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,

136 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,

Through Nature's skill, I shiver, Spirit fierce and bold,

May even by contraries be joined
At thought of what I now behold:

More closely still.
As vapors breathed from dungeons cold
Strike pleasure dead,

The tear will start, and let it flow;
So sadness comes from out the mould

Thou “poor Inhabitant below,” 50 5

At this dread moment-even so
Where Burns is laid.

Might we together
And have I then thy bones so near,

Have sat and talked where gowans blow,

Or on wild heather.
And thou forbidden to appear?
As if it were thyself that's here

What treasures would have then been
I shrink with pain;


55 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,
The tribute due

(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.

Soul-moving sight!

Yet one to which is not denied Fresh as the flower, whose modest worth

Some sad delight: He sang, his genius "glinted" forth,

For he is safe, a quiet bed
Rose like a star that touching earth,

Hath early found among the dead,
For so it seems,

Harbored where none can be misled,
Doth glorify its humble birth

Wronged, or distressed;

70 With matchless beams.

And surely here it may be said

That such are blest.
The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow, 25
The struggling heart, where be they And oh! for thee, by pitying grace

Checked oft-times in a devious race,
Full soon the Aspirant of the plough, May He who halloweth the place 75
The prompt, the brave,

Where man is laid
Slept, with the obscurest, in the low Receive thy spirit in the embrace
And silent grave.

For which it prayed!

30 I mourned with thousands, but as one

Sighing I turned away; but ere

80 More deeply grieved, for He was gone

Night fell I heard, or seemed to hear,

Music that sorrow comes not near,
Whose light I hailed when first it shone,
And showed my youth

A ritual hymn,

Chaunted in love that casts out fear
How verse may build a princely throne 35
On humble truth.

By Seraphim.



Alas! where'er the current tends,
Regret pursues and with it blends,-
Huge Criffel's hoary top ascends

By Skiddaw seen,
Neighbors we were, and loving friends

We might have been;

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!


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No nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands 10
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird
Breaking the silence of the seas

15 Among the farthest Hebrides.

The same whom in my school-boy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.
And I can listen to thee yet;

Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.
O blessèd Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be

30 An unsubstantial faery place, That is fit home for thee!

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Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang 25
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;-
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

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.


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if I may


I IWANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD And they a blissful course may

hold I wandered lonely as a cloud

Even now, who, not unwisely bold, That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

Live in the spirit of this creed; When all at once I saw a crowd,

Yet seek thy firm support, according to

their need.
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 5 I, loving freedom, and untried;
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. No sport of every random gust,

Yet being to myself a guide,
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,

Too blindly have reposed my trust:
They stretched in never-ending line

And oft, when in my heart was heard Along the margin of a bay:

Thy timely mandate, I deferred

30 Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

The task, in smoother walks to stray;

But thee I now would serve more strictly, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. • The waves beside them danced; but they Through no disturbance of my soul, Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

Or strong compunction in me wrought, A poet could not but be


15 In such a jocund company:

I supplicate for thy control;


But in the quietness of thought:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought: I feel the weight of chance-desires:

Me this unchartered freedom tires;
For oft, when on my couch I lie

My hopes no more must change their In vacant or in pensive mood,

name; They flash upon that inward eye

I long for a repose that ever is the same. 40 Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills,

Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear

The Godhead's most benignant grace; And dances with the daffodils.

Nor know we anything so fair

As is the smile upon thy face:

Flowers laugh before thee on their beds 45

And fragrance in thy footing treads; Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; O Duty! if that name thou love

And the most ancient heavens, through Who art a light to guide, a rod

thee, are fresh and strong. To check the erring, and reprove; Thou, who art victory and law

To humbler functions, awful Power!

5 When empty terrors overawe;

I call thee: I myself commend

50 From vain temptations dost set free;

Unto thy guidance from this hour; And calm’st the weary strife of frail hu- Oh, let my weakness have an end! manity!

Give unto me, made lowly wise,

The spirit of self-sacrifice; There are who ask not if thine eye

The confidence of reason give;

55 Be on them; who, in love and truth,

And in the light of truth thy bondman let Where no misgiving is, rely

me live! Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot CHARACTER OF THE HAPPY Who do thy work, and know it not:

WARRIOR Oh! if through confidence misplaced

15 They fail, lhy saving arms, dread Power!

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he arourd them cast.

That every man in arms should wish to be?

It is the generous Spirit, who, when Serene vill be our days and bright,

brought And hippy will our nature be,

Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Wherlove is an unerring light,

Upon the plan that pleased his boyish Andoy its own security.





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