Continuous as the stars that shine The waves beside them danced; but they 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 1804. XIII. THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. [THIS arose out of my observation of the affecting music of these birds hanging in this way in the London streets during the freshness and stillness of the Spring morning.] At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard 'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade, 1797. XIV. POWER OF MUSIC. [TAKEN from life.] AN Orpheus! an Orpheus! yes, Faith may grow bold, And take to herself all the wonders of old ; Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name. His station is there; and he works on the crowd, What an eager assembly! what an empire is this! The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss; The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest; And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest. As the Moon brightens round her the clouds of the night, So He, where he stands, is a centre of light; That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste— What matter! he's caught-and his time runs to waste; The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret; And the half-breathless Lamplighter-he's in the net! The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore; He stands, backed by the wall;-he abates not his din; His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in, From the old and the young, from the poorest; and there! The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare. O blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height, Mark that Cripple who leans on his crutch; like a tower Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream; Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream : They are deaf to your murmurs-they care not for you, Nor what ye are flying, nor what ye pursue! 1806. VOL. II. I XV. STAR-GAZERS. [OBSERVED by me in Leicester-square, as here described.] WHAT crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass it by; A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky: Long is it as a barber's pole, or mast of little boat, Some little pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames's waters float. The Showman chooses well his place, 'tis Leicester's busy Square; And is as happy in his night, for the heavens are blue and fair; Calm, though impatient, is the crowd; each stands ready with the fee, And envies him that's looking;-what an insight must it be! Yet, Showman, where can lie the cause? Shall thy Implement have blame, A boaster, that when he is tried, fails, and is put to shame? Or is it good as others are, and be their eyes in fault? Their eyes, or minds ? or, finally, is yon resplendent vault ? |