And, drawing nigh, with his living eye, And whispers caught, and speeches small, Some muttered to the torrent-fall; Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew If Emma's Ghost it were, Or boding Shade, or if the Maid He touched; what followed who shall tell? The soft touch snapped the thread Of slumber, shrieking back she fell, And the Stream whirled her down the dell In plunged the Knight! when on firm ground The rescued Maiden lay, Her eyes grew bright with blissful light, Confusion passed away ; She heard, ere to the throne of grace Her faithful Spirit flew, His voice, beheld his speaking face; And, dying from his own embrace, She felt that he was true. So was he reconciled to life: Brief words may speak the rest: Within the dell he built a cell, And there was Sorrow's guest; By one deep, heart-controlling sound, Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course, Where clouds that spread in solemn shade Sweet is thy voice at pensive even ; 1833. XLVII. TO CORDELIA M Hallsteads, Ullswater. NOT in the mines beyond the western main, You say, Cordelia, was the metal sought, Which a fine skill, of Indian growth, has wrought Into this flexible yet faithful Chain ; Nor is it silver of romantic Spain; But from our loved Helvellyn's depths was brought, Our own domestic mountain. Thing and thought XLVIII. MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews POEMS OF SENTIMENT AND REFLECTION. I. EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY. "WHY, Willliam, on that old gray stone, Why, William, sit you thus alone, "Where are your books?—that light bequeathed To Beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up and drink the spirit breathed "You look round on your Mother Earth, One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, "The eye, - it cannot choose but see; We cannot bid the year be still ; "Nor less I deem that there are Powers "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum Of things for ever speaking, But we must still be seeking? "Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, I sit upon this old gray stone, 1798. |