have a most vivid remembrance of her and the beautiful objects Iwith which she was surrounded. She is alluded to in the poem of The Three Cottage Girls among my Continental Memorials. In illustration of this class of poems I have scarcely anything to say beyond what is anticipated in my Sister's faithful and admirable Journal.-I. F.]

SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!

Twice seven consenting years have shed
Their utmost bounty on thy head:

And these grey rocks; that1 household lawn; 5
Those trees, a veil just half withdrawn ;

*

This fall of water that doth make

A murmur near the silent lake;

This little bay; a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy Abode—
In truth together do ye seem2

Like something fashioned in a dream;
Such Forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!
But, O fair Creature! in the light
Of common day, so heavenly bright,3

I bless Thee, Vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart;
God shield thee to thy latest years!

3 The two preceding lines were added in 1845.

4 1845.

Yet, dream and vision

1807.

1837.

or vision

"The distribution of these,' 'that,' and 'those' in these two lines, was attained in 1845, after various changes." (Edward Dowden.)

1.1845.

Thee, neither know I,1 nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are filled with tears.

With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away:
For never saw I mien, or face,

In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered, like a random seed,
Remote from men, Thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness:
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a Mountaineer:
A face with gladness overspread!
Soft smiles, 2 by human kindness bred!
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays;
With no restraint, but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech:
A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life!
So have I, not unmoved in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind—
Thus beating up against the wind.

What hand but would a garland cull
For thee who art so beautiful?

O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways and dress,
A Shepherd, thou a Shepherdess !

I neither know thee

2 1827.

Sweet looks,

1807.

1807.

But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality:

Thou art to me but as a wave

Of the wild sea; and I would have
Some claim upon thee, if I could,
Though but of common neighbourhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see!

55

Thy elder Brother I would be,

60

Thy Father-anything to thee! *

Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace

Hath led me to this lonely place.

Joy have I had; and going hence
I bear away my recompence.
In spots like these it is we prize
Our Memory, feel that she hath eyes:
Then, why should I be loth to stir?

I feel this place was made for her;

65

70

To give new pleasure like the past,

Continued long as life shall last.

Nor am I loth, though pleased at heart,
Sweet Highland Girl! from thee to part;
For I, methinks, till I grow old,

As fair before me shall behold,

As I do now, the cabin small,
The lake, the bay, the waterfall;

And Thee, the Spirit of them all!

75

In her Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland, 1803, Dorothy Wordsworth writes:-"Sunday, August 28th.-. After long waiting, the girls, who had been on the look-out, informed us that the boat was coming. I went to the waterside, and saw a cluster of people on the opposite shore; but, being yet at a distance, they looked more like soldiers surrounding a carriage than a group of men and women; red and green were the distinguishable colours. We hastened to get ourselves ready as soon as we saw the party approach, but had longer to wait than we expected, the lake being wider than it appears to be.

* Compare Virgil's Eclogues, x. 35

Atque utinam ex vobis unus, etc.-ED.

As they drew near we could distinguish men in tartan plaids, women in scarlet cloaks, and green umbrellas by the half-dozen. The landing was as pretty a sight as ever I saw. The bay, which had been so quiet two days before, was all in motion with small waves, while the swollen waterfall roared in our ears. The boat came steadily up, being pressed almost to the water's edge by the weight of its cargo; perhaps twenty people landed, one after another. It did not rain much, but the women held up their umbrellas; they were dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, and with their scarlet cardinals, the tartan plaids of the men, and Scotch bonnets, made a gay appearance. There was a joyous bustle surrounding the boat, which even imparted something of the same character to the waterfall in its tumult, and the restless grey waves; the young men laughed and shouted, the lasses laughed, and the elder folks seemed to be in a bustle to be away. I remember well with what haste the mistress of the house where we were ran up to seek after her child, and seeing us, how anxiously and kindly she inquired how we had fared, if we had had a good fire, had been well waited upon, etc. All this in three minutes-for the boatman had another party to bring from the other side, and hurried us off.

"The hospitality we had met with at the two cottages and Mr. Macfarlane's gave us very favourable impressions on this our first entrance into the Highlands, and at this day the innocent merriment of the girls, with their kindness to us, and the beautiful face and figure of the elder, come to my mind whenever I think of the ferry-house and waterfall of Loch Lomond, and I never think of the two girls but the whole image of that romantic spot is before me, a living image as it will be to my dying day. The following poem was written by William not long after our return from Scotland."-Compare the poem called The Three Cottage Girls, in the "Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, 1820," published in 1822.—Ed.

GLEN-ALMAIN; OR, THE NARROW GLEN

Composed (possibly) in 1803.-Published 1807

Classed in 1815 and 1820 with the "Poems of the Imagination."-ED.

IN this still place, remote from men,
Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;

In this still place, where murmurs on
But one meek streamlet, only one :
He sang of battles, and the breath
Of stormy war, and violent death;
And should, methinks, when all was past,
Have rightfully been laid at last

Where rocks were rudely heaped, and rent
As by a spirit turbulent ;

5

ΙΟ

Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild,
And everything unreconciled;

In some complaining, dim retreat,

For fear and melancholy meet;

But this is calm; there cannot be

A more entire tranquillity.

Does then the Bard sleep here indeed ?

Or is it but a groundless creed ?

What matters it?—I blame them not
Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot

15

20

Was moved; and in such 1 way expressed
Their notion of its perfect rest.

A convent, even a hermit's cell,

Would break the silence of this Dell:*

It is not quiet, is not ease;

But something deeper far than these:
The separation that is here

Is of the grave; and of austere
Yet 2 happy feelings of the dead:
And, therefore, was it rightly said
That Ossian, last of all his race!

Lies buried in this lonely place.

25

30

The glen is Glenalmond, in Perthshire, between Crieff and Amulree, known locally as "the Sma' Glen." I am not aware that it was ever called "Glen Almain," till Wordsworth

* Compare the poem To the Lady Fleming, stanza iii. ll. 28-9.-ED.