And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye, and ear, - both what they half create,* And what perceive; well pleased to recognize In nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.
If I were not thus taught, should I the more Suffer my genial spirits to decay :
For thou art with me here upon the banks Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend, My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch The language of my former heart, and read My former pleasures in the shooting lights Of thy wild eyes. O yet a little while May I behold in thee what I was once, My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her; 't is her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy: for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
This line has a close resemblance to an admirable line of Young's, the exact expression of which I do not recollect.
The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free l'o blow against thee: and, in after years, When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure'; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; O, then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance,. If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these. gleams
Of past existence, wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came Unwearied in that service: rather say With warmer love, -oh! with far deeper zeal Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget, That after many wanderings, many years. Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs, And this green pastoral landscape, were to me More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
IT is no Spirit who from heaven hath flown, And is descending on his embassy;
Nor Traveller gone from earth the heavens to
First admonition that the sun is down!
For yet it is broad daylight: clouds pass by;
A few are near him still;
and now the sky, He hath it to himself, 't is all his own. O most ambitious Star! an inquest wrought Within me when I recognized thy liglit;
A moment I was startled at the sight:
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,
My Soul, an Apparition in the place,
Tread there with steps that no one shall reprove!
AS IT APPEARED TO ENTHUSIASTS AT ITS COMMENCEMENT.*
O PLEASANT exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, we who were strong in love! Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven! - O times In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways Of custom, law, and statute took at once The attraction of a country in romance! When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights, When most intent on making of herself A prime Enchantress to assist the work,
Which then was going forward in her name! Not favored spots alone, but the whole earth, The beauty, wore of promise, that which sets (As at some moment might not be unfelt Among the bowers of paradise itself) The budding rose above the rose full-blown. What temper at the prospect did not wake To happiness unthought of? The inert Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
*This and the Extract, Vol. I. p. 219, and the first piece of this Class, are from the unpublished Poem of which some account is given in the Preface to the EXCURSION.
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense, And dealt with whatsoever they found there As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it; they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild And in the region of their peaceful selves; Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty Did both find, helpers to their heart's desire, And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish; Were called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where ! But in the very world, which is the world
the place where in the end We find our happiness, or not at all!
YES, it was the mountain Echo, Solitary, clear, profound,
Answering to the shouting Cuckoo,
Giving to her sound for sound!
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