Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing Boy, But He beholds the light, and whene He sees it in his joy; Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy The Youth, who daily farther fro Shepherd-boy! Must travel, still is Nat Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, To dialogues of business, love, or strife; Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Were endless imitation. IX. O joy! that in our embers The thought of our past years in me doth breed For that which is most worthy to be blest; Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; Blank misgivings of a Creature Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy! Hence in a season of calm weather Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Can in a moment travel thither, Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song! As to the tabor's sound! We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May! XI. And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; I only have relinquished one delight To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret, What though the radiance which was once so bright The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind. Is lovely yet; The Clouds that gather round the setting sun That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 1803-6. THE PRELUDE, OR GROWTH OF A POET'S MIND; AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL POEM. ADVERTISEMENT. THE following Poem was commenced in the beginning of the year 1799, and completed in the summer of 1805. The design and occasion of the work are described by the Author in his Preface to the EXCURSION, first published in 1814, where he thus speaks: "Several years ago, when the Author retired to his native mountains with the hope of being enabled to construct a literary work that might live, it was a reasonable thing that he should take a review of his own mind, and examine how far Nature and Education had qualified him for such an employment. "As subsidiary to this preparation, he undertook to record, in verse, the origin and progress of his own powers, as far as he was acquainted with them. "That work, addressed to a dear friend, most distinguished for his knowledge and genius, and to whom the Author's intellect is deeply indebted, has been long finished; and the result of the investigation which gave rise to it, was a determination to compose a philosophical Poem, containing views of Man, Nature, and Society, and to be entitled the 'Recluse;' as having for its principal subject the sensations and opinions of a poet living in retirement. "The preparatory poem is biographical, and conducts the history of the Author's mind to the point when he was emboldened to hope that his faculties were sufficiently matured for entering upon the arduous labour which he had proposed to himself; and the two works have the same kind of relation to each other, if he may so express himself, as the Ante-chapel has to the body of a Gothic church. Continuing this allusion, he may be permitted to add, that his minor pieces, which have been long before the public, when they shall be properly arranged, will be found by the attentive reader to have such connection with the main work as may give them claim to be likened to the little cells, oratories, and sepulchral recesses, ordinarily included in those edifices." Such was the Author's language in the year 1814. It will thence be seen, that the present Poem was intended to be introductory to the REOLUSE, and that the RECLUSE, if completed, would have consisted of Three Parts. Of these, the Second Part alone, viz., the EXCURSION, was finished, and given to the world by the Author. The First Book of the First Part of the RECLUSE still remains in manuscript; but the Third Part was only planned. The materials of which it would have been formed have, however, been incorporated, for the most part, in the Author's other Publications, written subsequently to the EXCURSION. The Friend, to whom the present Poem is addressed, was the late SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, who was resident in Malta, for the restoration of his health, when the greater part of it was composed. Mr. Coleridge read a considerable portion of the Poem while he was abroad; and his feelings, on hearing it recited by the Author (after his return to his own country), are recorded in his Verses, addressed to Mr. Wordsworth, which will be found in the "Sibylline Leaves," p. 197, ed. 1817, or "Poetical Works, by S. T. Coleridge,' vol. i., p. 206.-ED. RYDAL MOUNT, BOOK FIRST. INTRODUCTION.-CHILDHOOD AND O THERE is blessing in this gentle breeze, I look about; and should the chosen guide Long months of ease and undisturbed delight Dear Liberty! Yet what would it avail But for a gift that consecrates the joy? Days of sweet leisure, taxed with patient thought Thus far, O Friend! did I, not used to make Pour forth that day my soul in measured strains Such hope was mine, for holy services. My own voice cheered me, and, far more, the Internal echo of the imperfect sound; Content and not unwilling now to give A respite to this passion, I paced on For I, methought, while the sweet breath of I gazed with growing love, a higher power heaven Was blowing on my body, felt within A correspondent breeze, that gently moved. Than Fancy gave assurance of some work |