List to those shriller notes !-that march
Perchance was on the blast,
When, through this Height's inverted arch, Rome's earliest legion passed!
-They saw, adventurously impelled,
And older eyes than theirs beheld,
This block-and yon, whose church-like frame Gives to this savage Pass its name. Aspiring Road! that lov'st to hide Thy daring in a vapoury bourn, Not seldom may the hour return When thou shalt be my guide: And I (as all men may find cause, When life is at a weary pause, And they have panted up the hill Of duty with reluctant will)
Be thankful, even though tired and faint, For the rich bounties of constraint; Whence oft invigorating transports flow That choice lacked courage to bestow!
My Soul was grateful for delight That wore a threatening brow; A veil is lifted-can she slight The scene that opens now? Though habitation none appear, The greenness tells, man must be there; The shelter-that the pérspective
Is of the clime in which we live ; Where Toil pursues his daily round;
Where Pity sheds sweet tears-and Love, In woodbine bower or birchen
Inflicts his tender wound.
-Who comes not hither ne'er shall know
How beautiful the world below;
Nor can he guess how lightly leaps The brook adown the rocky steeps. Farewell, thou desolate Domain ! Hope, pointing to the cultured plain, Carols like a shepherd-boy;
And who is she?-Can that be Joy! Who, with a sunbeam for her guide, Smoothly skims the meadows wide; While Faith, from yonder opening cloud, To hill and vale proclaims aloud,
"Whate'er the weak may dread, the wicked dare, Thy lot, O Man, is good, thy portion fair!" 1817.
ON HER FIRST ASCENT TO THE SUMMIT OF HELVELLYN.
INMATE of a mountain-dwelling, Thou hast clomb aloft, and gazed From the watch-towers of Helvellyn; Awed, delighted, and amazed!
Potent was the spell that bound thee Not unwilling to obey;
For blue Ether's arms, flung round thee, Stilled the pantings of dismay.
Lo! the dwindled woods and meadows; What a vast abyss is there!
Lo! the clouds, the solemn shadows, And the glistenings—heavenly fair!
And a record of commotion
Which a thousand ridges yield; Ridge, and gulf, and distant ocean Gleaming like a silver shield!
Now take flight ;-possess, inherit Alps or Andes-they are thine! With the morning's roseate Spirit, Sweep their length of snowy line;
Or survey their bright dominions In the gorgeous colours drest Flung from off the purple pinions, Evening spreads throughout the west!
Thine are now the coral fountains Warbling in each sparry vault Of the untrodden lunar mountains; Listen to their songs !--or halt,
To Niphates' top invited, Whither spiteful Satan steered; Or descend where the ark alighted, When the green earth re-appeared;
For the power of hills is on thee,. As was witnessed through thine eye Then, when old Helvellyn won thee To confess their majesty!
'Let me be allowed the aid of verse to describe the evolutions which 'these visitants sometimes perform, on a fine day towards the close ' of winter.'-Extract from the Author's Book on the Lakes.
MARK how the feathered tenants of the flood, With grace Inferior to angelical, prolong
of motion that might scarcely seem
Their curious pastime! shaping in mid air (And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars High as the level of the mountain-tops) A circuit ampler than the lake beneath- Their own domain; but ever, while intent On tracing and retracing that large round, Their jubilant activity evolves
Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro, Upward and downward, progress intricate Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed Their indefatigable flight. "Tis done- Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased; But lo! the vanished company again Ascending; they approach-I hear their wings Faint, faint at first; and then an eager sound Past in a moment-and as faint again!
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