For the power of hills is on thee,
As was witnessed through thine eye
Then, when old Helvellyn won thee
To confess their majesty!

1818.

XXXVI.

TO A YOUNG LADY,

WHO HAD BEEN REPROACHED FOR TAKING LONG WALXS IN THE COUNTRY.

DEAR Child of Nature, let them rail!
-There is a nest in a green dale,
A harbor and a hold ;

Where thou, a Wife and Friend, shalt see
Thy own heart-stirring days, and be
A light to young and old.

There, healthy as a shepherd-boy,

And treading among flowers of joy

Which at no season fade,

Thou, while thy babes around thee cling,

Shalt show us how divine a thing

A Woman may be made.

Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die,
Nor leave thee, when gray hairs are nigh,
A melancholy slave;

But an old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,
Shall lead thee to thy grave.

1808.

XXXVII.

WATER-FOWL.

"Let me be allowed the aid of verse to describe the evolutioni which these visitants sometimes perform, on a fine day towards the close of winter." - Extract from the Author's Book on the Lakes.

MARK how the feathered tenants of the flood,
With grace of motion that might scarcely seem
Inferior to angelic, prolong

Their curious pastime! shaping in mid-air
(And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars
High as the level of the mountain-tops)
A circuit ampler than the lake beneath,-
Their own domain; but ever, while intent
On tracing and retracing that large round,
Their jubilant activity evolves

Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro,
Upward and downward, progress intricate
Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed
Their indefatigable flight. "T is done,-
Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased;
But lo the vanished company again

Ascending they approach, I hear their wings, Faint, faint at first; and then an eager sound, Past in a moment, and as faint again!

They tempt the sun to sport amid their plumes;
They tempt the water, or the gleaming ice,
To show them a fair image; 't is themselves,
Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering plain,
Painted more soft and fair as they descend
Almost to touch; then up again aloft,

Up with a sally and a flash of speed,

As if they scorned both resting-place and rest!

XXXVIII.

1812.

VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK COMB.

THIS Height a ministering Angel might select: For from the summit of BLACK COMB (dread name Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplestrange Of unobstructed prospect may be seen

That British ground commands:-low dusky tracts, Where Trent is nursed, far southward! Cambrian hills

To the southwest, a multitudinous show;

And, in a line of eyesight linked with these,
The hoary peaks of Scotland that give birth
To Tiviot's stream, to Annan, Tweed, and
Clyde :-

Crowding the quarter whence the sun comes forth
Gigantic mountains rough with crags; beneath,
Right at the imperial station's western base,
Main ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched
Far into silent regions blue and pale;
And visibly engirding Mona's Isle,
That, as we left the plain, before our sight
Stood like a lofty mount, uplifting slowly
(Above the convex of the watery globe)
Into clear view the cultured fields that streak
Her habitable shores, but now appears
A dwindled object, and submits to lie
At the spectator's feet. Yon azure ridge,

Is it a perishable cloud? Or there

Do we behold the line of Erin's coast?
Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-swain
(Like the bright confines of another world)
Not doubtfully perceived. Look homeward now!
In depth, in height, in circuit, how serene
The spectacle, how pure! Of Nature's works,
In earth, and air, and earth-embracing sea,
A revelation infinite it seems;

Display august of man's inheritance,

Of Britain's calm felicity and power!

1818.

Black Comb stands at the southern extremity of Cumberland: its base covers a much greater extent of ground than any other mountain in those parts; and, from its situation, the summit commands a more extensive view than any other point in Britain.

.

XXXIX.

THE HAUNTED TREE.

ΤΟ

THOSE silver clouds collected round the sun
His midday warmth abate not, seeming less
To overshade than multiply his beams

By soft reflection, grateful to the sky,

To rocks, fields, woods. Nor doth our human sense
Ask, for its pleasure, screen or canopy

More ample than the time-dismantled oak
Spreads o'er this tuft of heath, which now, attired
In the whole fulness of its bloom, affords

Couch beautiful as e'er for earthly use

Was fashioned; whether by the hand of Art,
That Eastern Sultan, amid flowers enwrought
On silken tissue, might diffuse his limbs
In languor; or by Nature, for repose

Of panting Wood-nymph, wearied with the chase.
O Lady! fairer in thy Poet's sight

Than fairest spiritual creature of the groves,
Approach; and, thus invited, crown with rest
The noontide hour: though truly some there are
Whose footsteps superstitiously avoid
This venerable Tree; for, when the wind
Blows keenly, it sends forth a creaking sound
(Above the general roar of woods and crags)
Distinctly heard from far, — a doleful note!
As if (so Grecian shepherds would have deemed)