And answer flowed, the fetters of reserve Dropping from every mind, the Solitary Resumed the manners of his happier days; And in the various conversation bore A willing, nay, at times, a forward part; Yet with the grace of one who in the world Had learned the art of pleasing, and had now Occasion given him to display his skill, Upon the stedfast 'vantage-ground of truth. He gazed, with admiration unsuppressed, Upon the landscape of the sun-bright vale, Seen, from the shady room in which we sate, In softened perspective; and more than once Praised the consummate harmony serene Of gravity and elegance, diffused Around the mansion and its whole domain; Not, doubtless, without help of female taste And female care.-"A blessed lot is yours !" The words escaped his lip, with a tender sigh Breathed over them: but suddenly the door Flew open, and a pair of lusty Boys Appeared, confusion checking their delight. -Not brothers they in feature or attire, But fond companions, so I guessed, in field, And by the river's margin-whence they come, Keen anglers with unusual spoil elated. One bears a willow-pannier on his back, The boy of plainer garb, whose blush survives More deeply tinged. Twin might the other be To that fair girl who from the garden-mount Bounded: triumphant entry this for him! Between his hands he holds a smooth blue stone, On whose capacious surface see outspread
Large store of gleaming crimson-spotted trouts ; Ranged side by side, and lessening by degrees Up to the dwarf that tops the pinnacle. Upon the board he lays the sky-blue stone
With its rich freight; their number he proclaims; Tells from what pool the noblest had been dragged; And where the very monarch of the brook, After long struggle, had escaped at last- Stealing alternately at them and us
(As doth his comrade too) a look of pride: And, verily, the silent creatures made A splendid sight, together thus exposed; Dead-but not sullied or deformed by death, That seemed to pity what he could not spare.
But O, the animation in the mien Of those two boys! yea in the very words With which the young narrator was inspired, When, as our questions led, he told at large Of that day's prowess! Him might I compare, His looks, tones, gestures, eager eloquence, To a bold brook that splits for better speed, And at the self-same moment, works its way Through many channels, ever and anon Parted and re-united: his compeer
To the still lake, whose stillness is to sight As beautiful-as grateful to the mind. -But to what object shall the lovely Girl Be likened ? She whose countenance and air Unite the graceful qualities of both,
Even as she shares the pride and joy of both.
My grey-haired Friend was moved; his vivid eye
Glistened with tenderness; his mind, I knew, Was full; and had, I doubted not, returned, Upon this impulse, to the theme-erewhile Abruptly broken off. The ruddy boys
Withdrew, on summons to their well-earned meal; And He to whom all tongues resigned their rights With willingness, to whom the general ear Listened with readier patience than to strain Of music, lute or harp, a long delight
That ceased not when his voice had ceased-as One Who from truth's central point serenely views The compass of his argument-began
Mildly, and with a clear and steady tone.
DISCOURSE OF THE WANDERER, AND AN EVENING VISIT TO THE LAKE.
Wanderer asserts that an active principle pervades the Universe, its noblest seat the human soul-How lively this principle is in Childhood-Hence the delight in old Age of looking back upon ChildhoodThe dignity, powers, and privileges of Age asserted-These not be looked for generally but under a just government-Right of a human Creature to be exempt from being considered as a mere Instrument-The condition of multitudes deplored-Former conversation recurred to, and the Wanderer's opinions set in a clearer light— Truth placed within reach of the humblest-Equality-Happy state of the two Boys again adverted to-Earnest wish expressed for a System of National Education established universally by Government -Glorious effects of this foretold-Walk to the Lake-Grand spectacle from the side of a hill-Address of Priest to the Supreme Being— in the course of which he contrasts with ancient Barbarism the present appearance of the scene before him-The change ascribed to Christianity-Apostrophe to his flock, living and dead-Gratitude to the Almighty-Return over the Lake-Parting with the SolitaryUnder what circumstances.
"To every Form of being is assigned,' Thus calmly spake the venerable Sage, "An active Principle:-howe'er removed From sense and observation, it subsists In all things, in all natures; in the stars Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds, In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone That paves the brooks, the stationary rocks, The moving waters, and the invisible air. Whate'er exists hath properties that spread Beyond itself, communicating good,
A simple blessing, or with evil mixed; Spirit that knows no insulated spot, No chasm, no solitude; from link to link It circulates, the Soul of all the worlds. This is the freedom of the universe; Unfolded still the more, more visible,
The more we know; and yet is reverenced least, And least respected in the human Mind, Its most apparent home. The food of hope Is meditated action; robbed of this Her sole support, she languishes and dies. We perish also; for we live by hope And by desire; we see by the glad light And breathe the sweet air of futurity; And so we live, or else we have no life. To-morrow-nay perchance this very hour (For every moment hath its own to-morrow!) Those blooming Boys, whose hearts are almost sick With present triumph, will be sure to find
A field before them freshened with the dew Of other expectations;—in which course Their happy year spins round. The youth obeys A like glad impulse; and so moves the man 'Mid all his apprehensions, cares, and fears,— Or so he ought to move. Ah! why in age Do we revert so fondly to the walks
Of childhood-but that there the Soul discerns The dear memorial footsteps unimpaired
Of her own native vigour; thence can hear Reverberations; and a choral song, Commingling with the incense that ascends, Undaunted, toward the imperishable heavens, From her own lonely altar?
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