My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee." Soon did the spot become my other home, My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there, To whom I sometimes in our idle talk Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, Years after we are gone and in our graves, When they have cause to speak of this wild place, May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL. 1800. II. TO JOANNA. learned, AMID the smoke of cities did you pass Who look upon the hills with tenderness, And make dear friendships with the streams and groves. Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind, Dwelling retired in our simplicity Among the woods and fields, we love you well, Joanna! and I guess, since you have been So distant from us now for two long years, That you will gladly listen to discourse, However trivial, if you thence be taught That they, with whom you once were happy, talk Familiarly of you and of old times. While I was seated, now some ten days past, Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop Their ancient neighbor, the old steeple-tower, The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by Came forth to greet me; and when he had asked "How fares Joanna, that wild-hearted Maid? And when will she return to us?" he paused; And, and after short exchange of village news, He with grave looks demanded, for what cause, Reviving obsolete idolatry, I, like a Runic Priest, in characters Of formidable size had chiselled out Some uncouth name upon the native rock, - Now, by those dear immunities of heart Engendered between malice and true love, I was not loth to be so catechized, And this was my reply:-"As it befell, -'T was that delightful season when the broom, That eastward looks, I there stopped short, and stood Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye From base to summit; such delight I found Along so vast a surface, all at once, Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart. That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud. Smiled in my face) "this were in simple truth To me alone imparted, sure I am That there was a loud uproar in the hills. To shelter from some object of her fear. And hence, long afterwards, when eighteer moons Were wasted, as I chanced to walk alone In I chiselled out in those rude characters 1800. NOTE. In Cumberland and Westmoreland are several in scriptions, upon the native rock, which, from the wasting of time, and the rudeness of the workmanship, have been mistaken for Runic. They are, without doubt, Roman. The Rotha, mentioned in this poem, is the river which, flowing through the lakes of Grasmere and Rydale, falls into Wynandermere. On Helm-crag, that impressive single mountain at the head of the Vale of Grasmere, is a rock which from most points of view bears a striking resemblance to an old woman cowering. Close by this rock is one of those fissures or caverns, which in the language of the country are called dungeons. Most of the mountains here mentioned inmediately surround the Vale of Grasmere; of the others, some are at a considerable distance, but they belong to the same sluster. THERE is an Eminence, III. - of these our hills The last that parleys with the setting sun; Hath to this lonely Summit given my Name. 1800. IV. A NARROW girdle of rough stones and crags, |