Ere some commanding star* dismiss to rest
The throng of rooks, that now, from twig or nest,
(After a steady flight on home-bound wings,
And a last game of mazy hoverings
Around their ancient grove) with cawing noise
Disturb the liquid music's equipoise.

IO

15

O Nightingale! Who ever heard thy song
Might here be moved, till Fancy grows so strong
That listening sense is pardonably cheated
Where wood or stream by thee was never greeted. †
Surely, from fairest spots of favoured lands,
Were not some gifts withheld by jealous hands,
This hour of deepening darkness here would be
As a fresh morning for new harmony;

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And lays as prompt would hail the dawn of Night:
A dawn she has both beautiful and bright,
When the East kindles with the full moon's light;1
Not like the rising sun's impatient glow
Dazzling the mountains, but an overflow
Of solemn splendour, in mutation slow.

Wanderer by spring with gradual progress led,
For sway profoundly felt as widely spread;
To king, to peasant, to rough sailor, dear,
And to the soldier's trumpet-wearied ear;

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1 1837.

Wanderer by

moon's light.

1835.

* Compare the Lines, composed at Grasmere in 1806 (vol. iv. p. 48), when Mr. Fox's death was hourly expected

Yon star upon the mountain-top
Is listening quietly.

ED.

The nightingale is not usually heard in England farther north than

the valley of the Trent.

Compare The Excursion, book iv. 1. 1167 (vol. v. p. 188); also the lines (vol. iv. p. 67) beginning

O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart.'

"

ED.

SOFT AS A CLOUD

How welcome wouldst thou be to this green Vale
Fairer than Tempe ! * Yet, sweet Nightingale !
From the warm breeze that bears thee on, alight
At will, and stay thy migratory flight;

Build, at thy choice, or sing, by pool or fount,
Who shall complain, or call thee to account?
The wisest, happiest, of our kind are they
That ever walk content with Nature's way,

God's goodness-measuring bounty as it may ;
For whom the gravest thought of what they miss,
Chastening the fulness of a present bliss,

Is with that wholesome office satisfied,

While unrepining sadness is allied

In thankful bosoms to a modest pride.

405

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40

"SOFT AS A CLOUD IS YON BLUE RIDGE— THE MERE"

Composed 1834.-Published 1835

One of the "Evening Voluntaries."—ED.

SOFT as a cloud is yon blue Ridge—the Mere †
Seems firm as solid crystal, breathless, clear,
And motionless; and, to the gazer's eye,
Deeper than ocean, in the immensity
Of its vague mountains and unreal sky!
But, from the process in that still retreat,
Turn to minuter changes at our feet;
Observe how dewy Twilight has withdrawn
The crowd of daisies from the shaven lawn,
And has restored to view its tender green,

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10

*The Thessalian valley, five miles long, from Olympus to Ossa, through which the Peneus makes its way to the Egean sea.-ED.

The "mere was probably Rydal, and the "ridge" that of Silver

How.-ED.

That, while the sun rode high, was lost beneath their dazzling sheen.

-An emblem this of what the sober Hour
Can do for minds disposed to feel its power!
Thus oft, when we in vain have wish'd away
The petty pleasures of the garish day,
Meek eve shuts up the whole usurping host
(Unbashful dwarfs each glittering at his post)
And leaves the disencumbered spirit free
To reassume a staid simplicity.

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20

'Tis well-but what are helps of time and place, When wisdom stands in need of nature's grace; Why do good thoughts, invoked or not, descend, Like Angels from their bowers, our virtues to befriend; If yet To-morrow, unbelied, may say,

"I come to open out, for fresh display, The elastic vanities of yesterday?"

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"THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED ON THIS OAK-CROWNED HILL"

Composed 1834.—Published 1835

[Composed by the side of Grasmere lake. The mountains that enclose the vale, especially towards Easdale, are most favorable to the reverberation of sound. There is a passage in The Excursion towards the close of the fourth book, where the voice of the raven in flight is traced through the modifications it undergoes, as I have often heard it in that vale and others of this district.*

"Often, at the hour

When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard,
Within the circuit of this fabric huge,
One voice the solitary raven."-I. F.]

One of the "Evening Voluntaries.”—ED.

* See also the extract from Dorothy Wordsworth's Journal, in the note to The Excursion (vol. v. p. 189).-ED.

THE LEAVES THAT RUSTLED

407

THE leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill,
And sky that danced among those leaves, are still;
Rest smooths the way for sleep; in field and bower
Soft shades and dews have shed their blended power
On drooping eyelid and the closing flower;
Sound is there none at which the faintest heart
Might leap, the weakest nerve of superstition start;
Save when the Owlet's unexpected scream
Pierces the ethereal vault; and ('mid the gleam
Of unsubstantial imagery, the dream,

From the hushed vale's realities, transferred
To the still lake) the imaginative Bird

Seems, 'mid inverted mountains, not unheard.

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ΙΟ

Grave Creature!-whether, while the moon shines bright

On thy wings opened wide for smoothest flight, 15 Thou art discovered in a roofless tower,

Rising from what may once have been a lady's bower; Or spied where thou sitt'st moping in thy mew

At the dim centre of a churchyard yew;

Or, from a rifted crag or ivy tod

Deep in a forest, thy secure abode,

Thou giv'st, for pastime's sake, by shriek or shout,
A puzzling notice of thy whereabout--
May the night never come, nor1 day be seen,
When I shall scorn thy voice or mock thy mien !

In classic ages men perceived a soul
Of sapience in thy aspect, headless Owl!
Thee Athens reverenced in the studious grove;
And, near the golden sceptre grasped by Jove,

*

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1 1837.

the

1835.

*The owl became the emblem of Athens-and was associated with Minerva-because the birds abounded there.-ED.

His Eagle's favourite perch, while round him sate
The Gods revolving the decrees of Fate,
Thou, too, wert present at Minerva's side:
Hark to that second larum !-far and wide

The elements have heard, and rock and cave replied.

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THE LABOURER'S NOON-DAY HYMN

Composed 1834.-Published 1835

[Bishop Ken's Morning and Evening Hymns are, as they deserve to be, familiarly known. Many other hymns have also been written on the same subject; but, not being aware of any designed for noon-day, I was induced to compose these verses. Often one has occasion to observe cottage children carrying, in their baskets, dinner to their Fathers engaged with their daily labours in the fields and woods. How gratifying would it be

to me could I be assured that any portion of these stanzas had been sung by such a domestic concert under such circumstances. A friend of mine has told me that she introduced this Hymn into a village-school which she superintended, and the stanzas in succession furnished her with texts to comment upon in a way which without difficulty was made intelligible to the children, and in which they obviously took delight, and they were taught to sing it to the tune of the old 100th Psalm. —I. F.]

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

UP to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn,
And he accepts the punctual hymn
Sung as the light of day grows dim.

Nor will he turn his ear aside
From holy offerings at noontide.
Then here reposing let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.

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