Of the Poems in this class, "THE EVENING WALK" and "DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES" were first published in 1793. They are reprinted with some alterations that were chiefly made very soon after their publication. * * * * * * * This notice, which was written some time ago, scarcely applies to the Poem, "Descriptive Sketches," as it now stands. The corrections, though numerous, are not, however, such as to prevent its retaining with propriety a place in the class of Juvenile Pieces. 1836. 1. EXTRACT II. FROM THE CONCLUSION OF A POEM, COMPOSED IN ANTI CIPATION OF LEAVING SCHOOL. DEAR native regions, I foretell, Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest WRITTEN IN VERY EARLY YOUTH CALM is all nature as a resting wheel. The kine are couched upon the dewy grass; 1786. B FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds; Fair scenes, erewhile, I taught, a happy child, In youth's keen eye the livelong day was bright, hill. In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, And hope itself was all I knew of pain; For then, the inexperienced heart would beat At times, while young Content forsook her seat, And wild Impatience, pointing upward, showed, Through passes yet unreached, a brighter road. Alas! the idle tale of man is found Depicted in the dial's moral round; Hope with reflection blends her social rays To gild the total tablet of his days; Yet still, the sport of some malignant power, He knows but from its shade the present hour. *These lines are only applicable to the middle part of that lake. + In the beginning of winter, these mountains are frequented by woodcocks, which in dark nights retire into the woods. But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain? To show what pleasures yet to me remain, Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear, The history of a poet's evening hear? When, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still, Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill, And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between; When crowding cattle, checked by rails that make A fence far stretched into the shallow lake, Lashed the cool water with their restless tails, Or from high points of rock looked out for fanning gales; When school-boys stretched their length upon the green; And round the broad-spread oak, a glimmering scene, In the rough fern-clad park, the herded deer And its own twilight softens the whole scene, Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge; thine! *The word intake is local, and signifies a mountaininclosure. Ghyll is also, I believe, a term confined to this country: ghyll, and dingle, have the same meaning. The reader who has made the tour of this country, will recognise, in this description, the features which characterise the lower waterfall in the grounds of Rydal. Never shall ruthless minister of death 'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath; Beholds, of all from her high powers required, Dear Brook, farewell! To-morrow's noon again Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain; But now the sun has gained his western road, And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad. While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite In many a whistling circle wheels her flight; Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace Travel along the precipice's base; Cheering its naked waste of scattered stone, By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown; Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or thistle's beard; And restless stone-chat, all day long, is heard. How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire, Into a gradual calm the breezes sink, A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink; There doth the twinkling aspen's foliage sleep, And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deep: And now, on every side, the surface breaks Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright With thousand thousand twinkling points of light; There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away, Tip their smooth ridges with a softer ray; Their panniered train a group of potters goad, While the sharp slope the slackened team confounds, Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods, Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs, and falling floods, Not undelightful are the simplest charms, Found by the grassy door of mountain-farms. Sweetly ferocious+, round his native walks, Pride of his sister-wives, the monarch stalks; Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread; A crest of purple tops the warrior's head. Bright sparks his black and rolling eye-ball hurls Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls; On tiptoe reared, he strains his clarion throat, Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote : Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, While, flapped with conscious pride, resound his wings! Where, mixed with graceful birch, the sombrous pine And yew-tree o'er the silver rocks recline; How busy all the enormous hive within, * «Vivid rings of green." -GREENWOOD'S POEM ON SHOOTING. "Dolcemente feroce."-TASSO.-In this description of the cock, I remembered a spirited one of the same animal in L'Agriculture, ou Les Géorgiques Françoises, of M. Rossuet. Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound; Just where a cloud above the mountain rears An edge all flame, the broadening sun appears; A long blue bar its ægis orb divides, And breaks the spreading of its golden tides; Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots In these secluded vales, if village fame, Confirmed by hoary hairs, belief may claim; When up the hills, as now, retired the light, Strange apparitions mocked the shepherd's sight. The form appears of one that spurs his steed Winding in ordered pomp their upward way+ *From Thomson. See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's Survey of the Lakes, accompanied by vouchers of its veracity, that may amuse the reader. Has disappeared, and every trace is fled Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail, The eye that marks the gliding creature sees Or playing wanton with the floating grass. Long may they float upon this flood serene; Theirs be these holms untrodden, still, and green, Where leafy shades fence off the blustering gale, And breathes in peace the lily of the vale! Yon isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet, Yet hears her song, "by distance made more sweet," Yon isle conceals their home, their hut-like bower; Green water-rushes overspread the floor; Long grass and willows form the woven wall, And swings above the roof the poplar tall. Thence issuing often with unwieldy stalk, They crush with broad black feet their flowery walk; Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn; Involve their serpent-necks in changeful rings, Rolled wantonly between their slippery wings, Or, starting up with noise and rude delight, Force half upon the wave their cumbrous flight. Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caressed, Haply some wretch has eyed, and called thee blessed; When with her infants, from some shady seat Or taught their limbs along the dusty road |