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Where be the Temples which in Britain's Isle,
As legends tell, the Trojan Founder reared?
Gone like a dream of morning, or a pile

Of glittering clouds that in the East appeared.
Of gorgeous clouds that in the west appeared. S
Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,
They sank, delivered o'er

To fatal dissolution, and I ween

No vestige there was left that such had ever been.

STANZA 2

Yet in unvanquished Cambria lay concealed
'Mid Snowdon's forests, or by Vaga's springs,
A Book whose leaves to later times revealed
course of these forgotten things,
How Brutus sailed, by oracles impelled,

The

mighty
wondrous

And hideous giants quelled,

A Brood whom no civility could melt,

Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt.

Yet in the wilds of Cambria lay concealed

By Snowdon's forests or by Vaga's springs,

A Book whose leaves to later time revealed

The wondrous course of
How Brutus came, etc.

those long

forgotten things;

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goodly

usages refined;

Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers,
And for soft pleasures, bowers,

And pleasure's fragrant
leafy bowers,

Whence all the fixed delights of house and home,
Friendship that will not break, and love that cannot roam.

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What wonder, then, if 'mid the vast domain
Of that rich Volume, one particular Flower
Hath breathed its fragrance seemingly in vain
And bloomed unnoticed even to this late hour,
Ye gentle Muses, your assistance grant,
While I this flower transplant

Into a garden pure of poesy,

Small garden which I tend in all humility.

The following (suppressed) Stanza followed No. 10

The winds and waves have aided him to reach

That coast, the object of his heart's desire,

But, while the crownless sovereign trod the beach,
His eyeballs kindle with resentful ire,

As if incensed with all that he beholds,

Dark fields, and naked wolds,

And these few Followers, a helpless band

That to his fortunes cleave, and wait on his command.

STANZA 12

"Bear with me, Friends," said Artegal ashamed, 'Forgive this passion," Artegal exclaimed,

And, as he spake, they dive into a wood,

And from its shady boughs protection claimed,

For light he fears, and open neighbourhood.

How changed from him who born to highest place

STANZA 13

Oft by imaginary terrors scared,

And sometimes into real dangers brought,

To Calaterium's forest he repaired,

And in its depth secure a refuge sought,

Thence to a few whom he esteems his friends
A messenger he sends,

STANZA 14

With his attendants here at break of morn,
Wandering by stealth abroad he chanced to hear
A startling outcry made by hound and horn,
From which the tusky Boar hath fled in fear,
And, etc.

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Heir of Gorbonian! Brother gladly met,
Gorbonian's heir, my brother gladly met,
STANZA 25

And what if o'er this bright unbosoming
A cloud of time, and envious fortune past!
Have we not seen the glories of the spring
By noontide darkness veiled and overcast?
The lakes that glittered like a sunbright shield,
The sky, the gay green field,

All vanish in a moment, as if night

Were sister to the sun, and darkness born of light.

STANZA 26

But should the sun victorious glimmer forth,

Far brighter seems the wide world than before:
Such power is latent in thy native worth,

To spread delight and joy from shore to shore :
For past misdeeds how grateful to atone,

Re-seated on thy throne,

Give proof that long adversity, and pain,

And sorrow have confirmed thy inborn right to reign.

From STANZA 28 to end

The story tells that Artegal away

Was by his brother privily conveyed

To a far distant city (at that day

Alclwyd named), whose fortress undismayed

By the hostility of mortals stood

In sight of field and flood,

Obnoxious only on the lofty Rock

To the careering storm, and perilous lightning stroke.

When this impregnable retreat was gained,

In prudent furtherance of his just intent,

King Elidure a mortal illness feigned,

And to his mightiest Lords a summons sent

Softly, and one by one into the gloom,

(As suits a sick man's room),

The attendants introduced each potent peer,

There, singly and alone, his sovereign will to hear.

Said Elidure, Behold our rightful King,

The banished Artegal, before thee stands :
Kneel, and renew to him the offering

Of thy allegiance; justice this demands,

Immortal justice, speaking through my voice,
Accept him, and rejoice.

he will prove Worthier than I have been of reverence and love.

If firm command and mild persuasion failed
To change the temper of an adverse mind,
With such by other engines he prevailed,
Threatening to fling their bodies to the wind

From the dread summit of the lonely block,
That castle-crested Rock,

Alclwyd then, but now Dunbarton named,

A memorable crag through spacious Albion famed.
Departing thence, to York their way they bent,
While the glad people flowers before them strewed,
And then King Elidure with full consent

Of all his peers, before the multitude

Upon his brother's head he placed the crown,

Relinquished by his own;

Triumph of justice, and affection pure,
Whence he the title gained of ";

pious Elidure."

The people answered with a loud acclaim,
Through admiration of the heroic deed.
The reinstated Artegal became

Earth's noblest penitent; from bondage freed
Of vice, henceforth unable to control

The motions of his soul.

And when he died, the worthy and the brave
Shed tears of fond regret upon his honoured grave.
Long did he reign: and, when he died, the tear
Of fond regret was shed upon his honoured bier.

Thus was a Brother by a Brother saved.
With whom a crown (temptation that hath set
Discord in hearts of men till they have braved
Their nearest kin in deadly battle met),

With duty weighed, and faithful love did seem
A thing of no esteem;

And from this triumph of affection pure,

He won the lasting name of " pious Elidure."

TO B. R. HAYDON

Composed December 1815.-Published March 31, 1816

Esq. "

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." The title 66 was appended to the name in the editions of 1820 to 1832.—ED.

HIGH is our calling, Friend!—Creative Art
(Whether the instrument of words she use,
Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues)
Demands the service of a mind and heart,
Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest part,
Heroically fashioned-to infuse

Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse,
While the whole world seems adverse to desert.
And, oh! when Nature sinks, as oft she may

5

Through long-lived pressure of obscure distress, IO
Still to be strenuous for the bright reward,
And in the soul admit of no decay,
Brook no continuance of weak-mindedness-
Great is the glory, for the strife is hard!

This sonnet was first published in The Examiner (March 31, 1816). It was composed in December 1815. On November 27, Haydon wrote to Wordsworth: "I have benefited, and have been supported in the troubles of life by your poetry. I will bear want, pain, misery, and blindness, but I will never yield one step I have gained on the road I am determined to travel over. "" (See his Correspondence and Table Talk, vol. ii. pp. 19, 20.) To this Wordsworth replied in the following letter which is explanatory of the above sonnet, and of the two sonnets that follow it.

"RYDAL MOUNT, near AMBLESide, December 21st, 1815.

"Now for the poems, which are sonnets: one composed the evening I received your letter; the other the next day; and the third the day following. I shall not transcribe them in the order in which they were written, but inversely.

"The last you will find was occasioned, I might say inspired, by your last letter, if there be any inspiration in it; the second records a feeling excited in me by the object it describes in the month of October last; and the first by a still earlier sensation, which the revolution of the year impressed me with last autumn.” (Then follow the three sonnets transcribed in the following order

"While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields."

"How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright."

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High is our calling, Friend!-Creative Art.")

“With high respect, I am, my dear sir, most faithfully yours.

"WILLIAM WORDSWORTH." (See the Autobiography of B. R. Haydon, vol. i. chap. xvi. p. 325.)

Haydon replied to Wordsworth, December 29 (see his Correspondence, vol. ii. pp. 20-23): "I must say that I have felt melancholy ever since receiving your sonnets, as if I was

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