80

Can such a One, dear Babe! though glad and proud
To welcome thee, repel the fears that crowd
Into his English breast, and spare to quake
Less for his own than 1 for thy innocent sake?
Too late—or, should the providence of God
Lead, through dark 2 ways by sin and sorrow trod,
Justice and peace to a secure abode,

Too soon-thou com'st into this breathing world ;
Ensigns of mimic outrage are unfurled.

Who shall preserve or prop the tottering Realm ?
What hand suffice to govern the state-helm ?

If, in the aims of men, the surest test

85

Of good or bad (whate'er be sought for or profest) 90
Lie in the means required, or ways ordained,
For compassing the end, else never gained ;
Yet governors and govern'd both are blind
To this plain truth, or fling it to the wind;
If to expedience principle must bow;

95

Past, future, shrinking up beneath the incumbent Now;
If cowardly concession still must feed

The thirst for power in men who ne'er concede ;
Nor turn aside, unless to shape a way
For domination at some riper day;
If3 generous Loyalty must stand in awe
Of subtle Treason, in 4 his mask of law,
Or with bravado insolent and hard,
Provoking punishment, to win reward;
If office help the factious to conspire,
And they who should extinguish, fan the fire—

100

105

1835

1835

concede;

1835

1835.

THE WARNING

Then, will the sceptre be a straw, the crown
Sit loosely, like the thistle's crest of down ;
To be blown off at will, by Power that spares it
In cunning patience, from the head that wears it.

Lost people, trained to theoretic feud !
Lost above all, ye labouring multitude!
Bewildered whether ye, by slanderous tongues
Deceived, mistake calamities for wrongs ;
And over fancied usurpations brood,

Oft snapping at revenge in sullen mood ;
Or, from long stress of real injuries fly
To desperation for a remedy ;

335

110

115

120

In bursts of outrage spread your judgments wide,
And to your wrath cry out, “Be thou our guide ;”
Or, bound by oaths, come forth to tread earth's floor
In marshalled thousands, darkening street and moor
With the worst shape mock-patience ever wore ;
Or, to the giddy top of self-esteem
By Flatterers carried, mount into a dream
Of boundless suffrage, at whose sage behest
Justice shall rule, disorder be supprest,
And every man sit down as Plenty's Guest!
-O for a bridle bitted with remorse

To stop your Leaders in their headstrong course!*
Oh may the Almighty scatter with his grace
These mists, and lead you to a safer place,
By paths no human wisdom can foretrace!
May He pour round you, from worlds far above
Man's feverish passions, his pure light of love,
That quietly restores the natural mien

To hope, and makes truth willing to be seen!
Else shall your blood-stained hands in frenzy reap
Fields gaily sown when promises were cheap.—

Why is the Past belied with wicked art,

The Future made to play so false a part,

* See the Fenwick note prefixed to the poem.-ED.

125

130

135

140

Among a people famed for strength of mind,
Foremost in freedom, noblest of mankind?
We act as if we joyed in the sad tune
Storms make in rising, valued in the moon

145

Nought but her changes. Thus, ungrateful Nation!
If thou persist, and, scorning moderation,
Spread for thyself the snares of tribulation,
Whom, then, shall meekness guard? What saving
skill

Lie in forbearance, strength in standing still?

150

-Soon shall the widow (for the speed of Time Nought equals when the hours are winged with crime) Widow, or wife, implore on tremulous knee, From him who judged her lord, a like decree ; The skies will weep o'er old men desolate : Ye little-ones! Earth shudders at your fate, Outcasts and homeless orphans

But turn, my Soul, and from the sleeping pair

Learn thou the beauty of omniscient care!

155

Be strong in faith, bid anxious thoughts lie still; 160

Seek for the good and cherish it—the ill

Oppose, or bear with a submissive will.

"IF THIS GREAT WORLD OF JOY AND PAIN"

Composed 1833.-Published 1835

One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."-ED.

IF this great world of joy and pain
Revolve in one sure track;
If freedom, set, will rise again,

And virtue, flown, come back ;
Woe to the purblind crew who fill
The heart with each day's care;
Nor gain, from past or future, skill
To bear, and to forbear!

5

ON THE COAST OF CUMBERLAND

337

ON A HIGH PART OF THE COAST OF
CUMBERLAND1

Easter Sunday, April 7

THE AUTHOR'S SIXTY-THIRD BIRTH-DAY

Composed 1833.-Published 1835

[The lines were composed on the road between Moresby and Whitehaven while I was on a visit to my son, then rector of the former place. This succession of Voluntaries, with the exception of the 8th and 9th, originated in the concluding lines of the last paragraph of this poem. With this coast I have been familiar from my earliest childhood, and remember being struck for the first time by the town and port of Whitehaven and the white waves breaking against its quays and piers, as the whole came into view from the top of the high ground down which the road (it has since been altered) then descended abruptly. My sister, when she first heard the voice of the sea from this point, and beheld the scene before her, burst into tears. Our family then lived at Cockermouth, and this fact was often mentioned among us as indicating the sensibility for which she was so remarkable.-I. F.]

One of the "Evening Voluntaries.”—ED.

THE Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire,
Flung back from distant climes a streaming fire,
Whose blaze is now subdued to tender gleams,
Prelude of night's approach with soothing dreams.
Look round;-of all the clouds not one is moving; 5
'Tis the still hour of thinking, feeling, loving.
Silent, and stedfast as the vaulted sky,

The boundless plain of waters seems to lie :-
Comes that low sound from breezes rustling o'er

The grass-crowned headland that conceals the shore?

1 1837.

In 1835 the title was "The Sun, that seemed so mildly to

No; 'tis the earth-voice of the mighty sea,
Whispering how meek and gentle he can be!*

Thou Power supreme! who, arming to rebuke
Offenders, dost put off the gracious look,
And clothe thyself with terrors like the flood
Of ocean roused into his fiercest mood,
Whatever discipline thy Will ordain

For the brief course that must for me remain;
Teach me with quick-eared spirit to rejoice.
In admonitions of thy softest voice!
Whate'er the path these mortal feet may trace,
Breathe through my soul the blessing of thy grace,
Glad, through a perfect love, a faith sincere
Drawn from the wisdom that begins with fear,
Glad to expand; and, for a season, free

From finite cares, to rest absorbed in Thee!

II

15

20

25

(BY THE SEA-SIDE)

Composed 1833.-Published 1835

One of the "Evening Voluntaries."-ED.

THE sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest;
And the wild storm hath somewhere found a nest;
Air slumbers-wave with wave no longer strives,
Only a heaving of the deep survives, †

A tell-tale motion! soon will it be laid,
And by the tide alone the water swayed.
Stealthy withdrawings, interminglings mild

5

*Compare the Elegiac Stanzas, suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle, in a Storm (1805), vol. iii. p. 54; also the sonnet (written in 1807), "Two Voices are there; one is of the sea," vol. iv. p. 61, and the second sonnet on the Cave of Staffa, in the poems descriptive of the tour in Scotland in 1833.

-ED.

Compare the previous poem.-ED.