Both roses flourish, red and white:
In love and sisterly delight

The two that were at strife are blended,
And all old troubles now are ended.-
Joy! joy to both! but most to her
Who is the flower of Lancaster!
Behold her how She smiles to-day
On this great throng, this bright array!
Fair greeting doth she send to all
From every corner of the hall;
But chiefly from above the board
Where sits in state our rightful Lord,
A Clifford to his own restored!

"They came with banner, spear, and shield;

And it was proved in Bosworth-field. 25
Not long the Avenger was withstood-
Earth helped him with the cry of blood:
St. George was for us, and the might
Of blessed Angels crowned the right.
Loud voice the Land has uttered forth, 30
We loudest in the faithful north:
Our fields rejoice, our mountains ring,
Our streams proclaim a welcoming;
Our strong-abodes and castles see
The glory of their loyalty.

"How glad is Skipton at this hour-

Though lonely, a deserted Tower;

35

Pray in ghostly agonies. Blissful Mary, Mother mild, Maid and Mother undefiled, Save a Mother and her Child!

60

65

70

"Now Who is he that bounds with joy On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy? No thoughts hath he but thoughts that

pass

75

79

Light as the wind along the grass.
Can this be He who hither came
In secret, like a smothered flame?
O'er whom such thankful tears were shed
For shelter, and a poor man's bread!
God loves the Child; and God hath willed
That those dear words should be fulfilled,
The Lady's words, when forced away
The last she to her Babe did say:
'My own, my own, thy Fellow-guest
not be; but rest thee, rest,

I

may

groom:

We have them at the feast of Brough'm.

How glad Pendragon-though the sleep
Of years be on her!-She shall reap
A taste of this great pleasure, viewing
As in a dream her own renewing.
Rejoiced is Brough, right glad, I deem,
Beside her little humble stream;
And she that keepeth watch and ward
Her statelier Eden's course to guard;
They both are happy at this hour,
Though each is but a lonely Tower:-
But here is perfect joy and pride
For one fair House by Emont's side,
This day, distinguished without peer,
To see her Master and to cheer-
Him, and his Lady-mother dear!

"Oh! it was a time forlorn When the fatherless was bornGive her wings that she may fly,

41

45

50

85

ΙΟΟ

105

The face of thing that is to be; And, if that men report him right,

135

-Now another day is come,

Fitter hope, and nobler doom;

XXVI.

LINES

ABBEY, ON REVISITING THE BANKS OF THE WYE DURING A TOUR. JULY 13, 1798. [Composed July 13, 1798.-Published 1798.] FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length

Of five long winters! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountainsprings

With a soft inland murmur. Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, 5
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and
connect

The day is come when I again repose
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view

1 The river is not affected by the tides a few miles above Tintern.

II

As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind, 29
With tranquil restoration:-feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift, 36
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed
mood,

In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,

40

Is lightened:-that serene and blessed mood,

In which the affections gently lead us on,Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep 45 In body, and become a living soul:

Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heartHow oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods, 56

How often has my spirit turned to thee!

And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,

60

With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
The picture of the mind revives again :
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing
thoughts

That in this moment there is life and food For future years. And so I dare to hope, Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first 66

I came among these hills; when like a roe I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, Wherever nature led: more like a man 70 Flying from something that he dreads than one

Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then

(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by)

To me was all in all.-I cannot paint 75 What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,

Their colours and their forms, were then

power

Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,

XXVII.

[Composed 1803.-Published 1807.]

IT is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown,

And is descending on his embassy; Nor Traveller gone from earth the heavens to espy!

'Tis Hesperus-there he stands with glittering crown,

First admonition that the sun is down! For yet it is broad day-light: clouds pass by;

A few are near him still-and now the sky,
He hath it to himself-'tis all his own.
O most ambitious Star! an inquest
wrought

Within me when I recognised thy light;
A moment I was startled at the sight: II
And, while I gazed, there came to me a
thought

That I might step beyond my natural race As thou seem'st now to do; might one day trace

Some ground not mine; and, strong her strength above,

15 My Soul, an Apparition in the place, Tread there with steps that no one shall reprove!

Among the grandest objects of the sense, And dealt with whatsoever they found there 26 As if they had within some lurking right To wield it;-they, too, who, of gentle