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This Tablet, hallowed by her name,
One heart-relieving tear may claim;
But if the pensive gloom

Of fond regret be still thy choice,
Exalt thy spirit, hear the voice
Of Jesus from her tomb!

I raised, while kneeling by his side,
His hand:-it dropped like lead.
Your hands, dear Little-ones, do all
10 That can be done, will never fall
Like his till they are dead.

By night or day, blow foul or fair,

"I AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE Ne'er will the best of all your train

LIFE."

IV. EPITAPH

Play with the locks of his white hair, Or stand between his knees again.

ΙΟ

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Here did he sit confined for hours; But he could see the woods and plains, Could hear the wind and mark the showers

IN THE CHAPEL-YARD OF LANGDALE, Come streaming down the streaming

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ADDRESS TO THE SCHOLARS OF Who checked or turned thy headstrong

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Thou shouldst have seemed a treasure house divine

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Of peaceful years; a chronicle of heaven;-
Of all the sunbeams that did ever shine
The very sweetest had to thee been given.

A Picture had it been of lasting ease.
Elysian quiet, without toil or strife;
No motion but the moving tide, a breeze,
Or merely silent Nature's breathing life.

Such, in the fond illusion of my heart. Such Picture would I at that time have made:

And seen the soul of truth in every part, A steadfast peace that might not be be trayed.

Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of So once it would have been,-'tis so na

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Then, Beaumont, Friend! who would Would bring him back in manhood's prime have been the Friend,

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And free for life, these hills to climb, With all his wants supplied.

And full of hope day followed day While that stout Ship at anchor lay Beside the shores of Wight;

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And there they found him at her side; 55
And bore him to the grave.

10 Vain service! yet not vainly done

For this, if other end were none,

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His quiet heart's selected home. But time before him melts away,

And he hath feeling of a day

And Thou, sweet Flower, shalt sleep and Of blessedness to come.

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[Composed 1846.-Published 1850.] WHY should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy,

For such thou wert ere from our sight removed,

Holy, and ever dutiful-beloved From day to day with never-ceasing joy, And hopes as dear as could the heart employ 5

In aught to earth pertaining? Death has proved

His might, nor less his mercy, as behovedDeath conscious that he only could destroy The bodily frame. That beauty is laid low To moulder in a far-off field of Rome; 10 But Heaven is now, blest Child, thy Spirit's home:

When such divine communion, which we know,

Is felt, thy Roman burial-place will be
Surely a sweet remembrancer of Thee.

X. LINES

Composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, after a stormy day, the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected. Composed September (?), 1806.-Published 1807.] LOUD is the Vale! the Voice is up With which she speaks when storms are gone,

1 The plant alluded to is the Moss Campion Silene acaulis, of Linnæus). See Note, p. 925 See among the Poems on the "Naming of Places," No. VI.

And many thousands now are sad-
Wait the fulfilment of their fear;
For he must die who is their stay,
Their glory disappear.

A Power is passing from the earth
To breathless Nature's dark abyss;
But when the great and good depart

What is it more than this

That Man, who is from God sent forth,
Doth yet again to God return?—
Such ebb and flow must ever be,
Then wherefore should we mourn?

XI.

INVOCATION TO THE EARTH.

FEBRUARY, 1816.

[Composed February, 1816.-Published 1816.]

I.

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