The worldling, pining to be freed

From turmoil, who would turn or speed
The current of his fate,

Might stop before this favoured scene,

At Nature's call, nor blush to lean
Upon the Wishing-gate.

The Sage, who feels how blind, how weak
Is man, though loth such help to seek,
Yet, passing, here might pause,

And thirst for insight to allay
Misgiving, while the crimson day
In quietness withdraws;

Or when the church-clock's knell profound

To Time's first step across the bound
Of midnight makes reply;

Time pressing on with starry crest,

To filial sleep upon the breast

Of dread eternity!

1828.

XXXVIII.

THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK.

A Rock there is whose lonely front
The passing traveller slights;

Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps,
Like stars, at various heights;

And one coy Primrose to that Rock

The vernal breeze invites.

What hideous warfare hath been waged,

What kingdoms overthrown,
Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft

And marked it for my own;
A lasting link in Nature's chain
From highest heaven let down!

The flowers, still faithful to the stems,
Their fellowship renew ;

The stems are faithful to the root,

That worketh out of view;

And to the rock the root adheres
In every fibre true.

Close clings to earth the living rock,

Though threatening still to fall;
The earth is constant to her sphere;
And God upholds them all:

So blooms this lonely Plant, nor dreads
Her annual funeral.

*

*

*

*

Here closed the meditative strain;

But air breathed soft that day, The hoary mountain-heights were cheered,

And to the Primrose of the Rock

I gave this after-lay.

I sang-Let myriads of bright flowers,
Like Thee, in field and grove
Revive unenvied ;-mightier far,

Than tremblings that reprove

Our vernal tendencies to hope,
Is God's redeeming love;

That love which changed-for wan disease, For sorrow that had bent

O'er hopeless dust, for withered age

Their moral element,

And turned the thistles of a curse

To types beneficent.

Sin-blighted though we are, we too,
The reasoning Sons of Men,
From one oblivious winter called
Shall rise, and breathe again;
And in eternal summer lose

Our threescore years and ten.

To humbleness of heart descends
This prescience from on high,
The faith that elevates the just,
Before and when they die;

And makes each soul a separate heaven,

A court for Deity.

1831.

XXXIX.

PRESENTIMENTS.

PRESENTIMENTS! they judge not right
Who deem that ye from open light
Retire in fear of shame;

All heaven-born Instincts shun the touch
Of vulgar sense,—and, being such,
Such privilege ye claim.

The tear whose source I could not guess,
The deep sigh that seemed fatherless,
Were mine in early days;

And now, unforced by time to part
With fancy, I obey my heart,

And venture on your praise.

What though some busy foes to good,
Too potent over nerve and blood,

Lurk near you-and combine

To taint the health which ye infuse;
This hides not from the moral Muse
Your origin divine.