Where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads,
To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads;
Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottage grounds,
Her rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds;
Where,1 undisturbed by winds, Winander* sleeps
'Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps;
Where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore,
And memory of departed pleasures, more.
Fair scenes,2 erewhile, I taught, a happy child,
The echoes of your rocks my carols wild:
The spirit sought not then, in cherished sadness,
A cloudy substitute for failing gladness.
In youth's keen eye the livelong day was bright,
The sun at morning, and the stars at night,
Alike, when first the bittern's hollow bill
Was heard, or woodcocks† roamed the moonlight hill.
Staying his silent waves to hear the roar
That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore;
Where silver rocks the savage prospect chear
Of giant yews that frown on Rydale's mere ;
Where Derwent stops his course to hear the roar
Where bosomed deep, the shy Winander peeps
Where deep embosomed shy Winander peeps
Fair scenes, with other eyes than once, I
The ever-varying charm your sound displays,
Than when, erewhile, I taught, "a happy child,"
The echoes of your rocks my carols wild;
Then did no ebb of cheerfulness demand
* 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. 1793.
In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain,1
And hope itself was all I knew of pain;
For then, the inexperienced heart would beat2
At times, while young Content forsook her seat,
And wild Impatience,3 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.
But why, ungrateful, dwell on idle pain? To show what pleasures yet to me remain,* Say, will my Friend, with unreluctant ear,5 The history of a poet's evening hear?
While, Memory at my side, I wander here,
Starts, at the simplest sight, th' unbidden tear,
A form discovered at the well known seat,
A spot, that angles at the riv'let's feet,
The ray the cot of morning trav'ling night,
And sail that glides the well known alders by.
For then, even then, the little heart would beat
And wild Impatience, panting upward, showed
When, tipped with gold, the mountain-summits glowed.
Alas! the idle tale of man is found
Say, will my friend, with soft affection's ear,
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;1
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
Shook the still-twinkling tail and glancing ear;
When horses in the sunburnt intake* stood,
And vainly eyed below the tempting flood,
Or tracked the passenger, in mute distress,
With forward neck the closing gate to press
Gazing the tempting shades to them denied,
When stood the shortened herds amid the tide,
Where, from the barren walls unsheltered end,
Long rails into the shallow lake extend;
When, at the barren walls unsheltered end,
Where long rails far into the lake extend,
Crowded the shortened herds, and beat the tides
With their quick tails, and lashed their speckled sides.
And round the humming elm a glimmering scene!
In the brown park, in flocks, the troubled deer,
When horses in the wall-girt intake stood,
Unshaded, eying far below, the flood,
Crowded behind the swain, in mute distress,
With forward neck the closing gate to press;
And long, with wistful gaze, his walk surveyed,
Till dipped his pathway in the river shade;
* The word intake is local, and signifies a mountain-inclosure. 1793.
Then, while I wandered where the huddling rill1
Brightens with water-breaks the hollow ghyll*
As by enchantment, an obscure retreat
Opened at once, and stayed my devious feet.
While thick above the rill the branches close,
In rocky basin its wild waves repose,
Inverted shrubs, and moss of gloomy green,
Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between;
And its own twilight softens the whole scene,
Save where aloft the subtle sunbeams shine
On withered briars that o'er the crags recline; 2
Then Quiet led me up the huddling rill,
Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous gill;
To where, while thick above the branches close,
In dark-brown basin its wild waves repose,
Inverted shrubs, and moss of darkest green,
Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between ;
Save that, atop, the subtle sunbeams shine,
On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;
Sole light admitted here, a small cascade,
Illumes with sparkling foam the twilight shade.
Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,
The eye reposes on a secret bridge
Half-grey, half-shagged with ivy to its ridge.
Then, while I wandered up the huddling rill
Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll.
But see aloft the subtle sunbeams shine,
On withered briars that o'er the crags recline;
Thus beautiful! as if the sight displayed,
By its own sparkling foam that small cascade;
Inverted shrubs, with moss of gloomy green
Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between. C.
* Ghyll is also, I believe, a term confined to this country: ghyll, and dingle, have the same meaning. 1793.
Save where, with sparkling foam, a small cascade
Illumines, from within, the leafy shade;1
Beyond, along the vista of the brook,
Where antique roots its bustling course o'erlook,
The eye reposes on a secret bridge *
Half grey, half shagged with ivy to its ridge;
There, bending o'er the stream, the listless swain.
Lingers behind his disappearing wain.2
-Did Sabine grace adorn my living line,
Blandusia's praise, wild stream, should yield to thine!
Never shall ruthless minister of death
'Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath ;
No goblets shall, for thee, be crowned with flowers,
No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers;
The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove
A more benignant sacrifice approve
A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood
Of happy wisdom, meditating good,
Beholds, of all from her high powers required,
Much done, and much designed, and more desired,—
Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined,
Entire affection for all human kind.
Dear Brook, farewell!3 To-morrow's noon again. Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
Whence hangs, in the cool shade, the listless swain
Lingering behind his disappearing wain.
* 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. 1793.
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