VII.

[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 palo stars, is heard,

Within the circuit of this fabric huge,
One voice-the solitary raven."]

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.

Grave Creature!—whether, while the moon shines

bright

On thy wings opened wide for smoothest flight,

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, nor 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!
Theẹ Athens reverenced in the studious grove;
And, near the golden sceptre grasped by Jove,
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.

1834.

VIII.

[REPRINTED at the request of my Sister, in whose presence the lines were thrown off.]

This Impromptu appeared, many years ago, among the Author's poems, from which, in subsequent editions, it was excluded.

THE sun has long been set,

The stars are out by twos and threes,

The little birds are piping yet

Among the bushes and trees;

There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,

And a sound of water that gushes,

And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would 'go parading'
In London, 'and masquerading,'
On such a night of June

With that beautiful soft half-moon,

And all these innocent blisses ?

On such a night as this is!

IX.

1804.

COMPOSED UPON AN EVENING OF EXTRAORDINARY SPLENDOUR AND BEAUTY.

[FELT and in a great measure composed upon the little mount in front of our abode at Rydal. In concluding my notices of this class of poems it may be as well to observe that among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets" are a few alluding to morning impressions which might be read with mutual benefit in connection with these "Evening Voluntaries." See, for example, that one on Westminster Bridge, that composed on a May morning, the one on the song of the Thrush, and that beginning"While beams of orient light shoot wide and high."]

I.

HAD this effulgence disappeared

With flying haste, I might have sent,
Among the speechless clouds, a look

Of blank astonishment;

But 'tis endued with power to stay,

And sanctify one closing day,
That frail Mortality may see-

What is ?-ah no, but what can be!

Time was when field and watery cove
With modulated echoes rang,

While choirs of fervent Angels sang

Their vespers in the grove;

Or, crowning, star-like, each some sovereign height, Warbled, for heaven above and earth below,

Strains suitable to both.-Such holy rite,

Methinks, if audibly repeated now

From hill or valley, could not move
Sublimer transport, purer love,

Than doth this silent spectacle-the gleam-
The shadow—and the peace supreme!

II.

No sound is uttered,-but a deep
And solemn harmony pervades

The hollow vale from steep to steep,
And penetrates the glades.
Far-distant images draw nigh,

Called forth by wondrous potency
Of beamy radiance, that imbues,

Whate'er it strikes, with gem-like hues!
In vision exquisitely clear,

Herds range along the mountain side;
And glistening antlers are descried;
And gilded flocks appear.

Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal Eve!
But long as god-like wish, or hope divine,
Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe
That this magnificence is wholly thine!
-From worlds not quickened by the sun
A portion of the gift is won;

An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is spread
On ground which British shepherds tread!

III.

And, if there be whom broken ties

Afflict, or injuries assail,

Yon hazy ridges to their eyes

Present a glorious scale,

Climbing suffused with sunny air,

To stop-no record hath told where!
And tempting Fancy to ascend,
And with immortal Spirits blend!
-Wings at my shoulders seem to play;
But, rooted here, I stand and gaze

On those bright steps that heaven-ward raise
Their practicable way.

Come forth, ye drooping old men, look abroad,
And see to what fair countries ye are bound!

And if some traveller, weary of his road,
Hath slept since noon-tide on the grassy ground,
Ye Genii! to his covert speed;

And wake him with such gentle heed

As may attune his soul to meet the dower
Bestowed on this transcendent hour!

IV.

Such hues from their celestial Urn
Were wont to stream before mine eye,
Where'er it wandered in the morn
Of blissful infancy.

This glimpse of glory, why renewed ?

Nay, rather speak with gratitude;