The wonders of the human world to keep-
Space matter time and mind let the sight
Renew and strengthen all thy failing hope
All things are recreated and the flame
Of consentaneous love inspires all life
The fertile bosom of the earth gives suck
To myriads who still grow beneath her care
Rewarding her with their pure perfectness
The balmy breathings of the wind inhale
Her virtues and diffuse them all abroad
Health floats amid the gentle atmosphere
Glows in the fruits and mantles on the stream
No storms deform the beaming brow of heaven
Nor scatter in the freshness of its pride
The foliage of the undecaying trees
But fruits are ever ripe flowers ever fair
And Autumn proudly bears her matron grace
Kindling a flush on the fair cheek of Spring
Whose virgin bloom beneath the ruddy fruit
Reflects its tint and blushes into love
The habitable earth is full of bliss
Those wastes of frozen billows that were hurled
By everlasting snow-storms round the poles
Where matter dared not vegetate nor live
But ceaseless frost round the vast solitude
Bound its broad zone of stillness are unloosed
And fragrant zephyrs there from spicy isles
Ruffle the placid ocean-deep that rolls
Its broad bright surges to the sloping sand
Whose roar is wakened into echoings sweet
To murmur through the heaven-breathing groves
And melodise with man blest nature there
The vast tract of the parched and sandy waste
Now teems with countless rills and shady woods
Corn-fields and pastures and white cottages
And where the startled wilderness did hear
A savage conqueror stained in kindred blood
Hymmng his victory or the milder snake
Crushing the bones of some frail antelope
Within his brazen folds the dewy lawn
Offering sweet incense to the sunrise smiles
To see a babe before his mother door
Share with the green and golden basilisk
That comes to lick his feet his morning meal
Those trackless deeps where many a weary sail
Has seen above the illimitable plain
Morning on night and night on morning rise
Whilst still no land to greet the wanderer spread
Its shadowy mountains on the sunbright sea
Where the loud roarings of the tempest-waves
So long have mingled with the gusty wind
In melancholy loneliness and swept
The desert of those ocean solitudes
But vocal to the sea-bird harrowing shriek
The bellowing monster and the rushing storm
Now to the sweet and many-mingling sounds
Of kindliest human impulses respond
Those lonely realms bright garden-isles begem
With lightsome clouds and shining seas between
And fertile valleys resonant with bliss
Whilst green woods overcanopy the wave
Which like a toil-worn labourer leaps to shore
To meet the kisses of the flowerets there
Man chief perceives the change his being notes
The gradual renovation and defines
Each movement of its progress on his mind
Man where the gloom of the long polar night
Lowered o'er the snow-clad rocks and frozen soil
Where scarce the hardiest herb that braves the frost
Basked in the moonlight ineffectual glow
Shrank with the plants and darkened with the night
Nor where the tropics bound the realms of day
With a broad belt of mingling cloud and flame
Where blue mists through the unmoving atmosphere
Scattered the seeds of pestilence and fed
Unnatural vegetation where the land
Teemed with all earthquake tempest and disease
Was man a nobler being slavery
Had crushed him to his country blood-stained dust
Even where the milder zone afforded man
A seeming shelter yet contagion there
Blighting his being with unnumbered ills
Spread like a quenchless fire nor truth availed
Till late to arrest its progress or create
That peace which first in bloodless victory waved
Her snowy standard o'er this favoured clime
There man was long the train-bearer of slaves
The mimic of surrounding misery
The jackal of ambition lion-rage
The bloodhound of religion hungry zeal
Here now the human being stands adorning
This loveliest earth with taintless body and mind
Blest from his birth with all bland impulses
Which gently in his noble bosom wake
All kindly passions and all pure desires
Him still from hope to hope the bliss pursuing
Which from the exhaustless lore of human weal
Dawns on the virtuous mind the thoughts that rise
In time-destroying infiniteness gift
With self-enshrined eternity that mocks
The unprevailing hoariness of age
And man once fleeting o'er the transient scene
Swift as an unremembered vision stands
Immortal upon earth no longer now
He slays the beast that sports around his dwelling
And horribly devours its mangled flesh
Or drinks its vital blood which like a stream
Of poison thro' his fevered veins did flow
Feeding a plague that secretly consumed
His feeble frame and kindling in his mind
Hatred despair and fear and vain belief
The germs of misery death disease and crime
No longer now the winged habitants
That in the woods their sweet lives sing away
Flee from the form of man but gather round
And prune their sunny feathers on the hands
Which little children stretch in friendly sport
Towards these dreadless partners of their play
All things are void of terror man has lost
His desolating privilege and stands
An equal amidst equals happiness
And science dawn though late upon the earth
Peace cheers the mind health renovates the frame
Disease and pleasure cease to mingle here
Reason and passion cease to combat there
Whilst mind unfettered o'er the earth extends
Its all-subduing energies and wields
The sceptre of a vast dominion there
Mild is the slow necessity of death
The tranquil spirit fails beneath its grasp
Without a groan almost without a fear
Resigned in peace to the necessity
Calm as a voyager to some distant land
And full of wonder full of hope as he
The deadly germs of languor and disease
Waste in the human frame and Nature gifts
With choicest boons her human worshippers
How vigorous now the athletic form of age
How clear its open and unwrinkled brow
Where neither avarice cunning pride or care
Had stamped the seal of grey deformity
On all the mingling lineaments of time
How lovely the intrepid front of youth
How sweet the smiles of taintless infancy
Within the massy prison mouldering courts
Fearless and free the ruddy children play
Weaving gay chaplets for their innocent brows
With the green ivy and the red wall-flower
That mock the dungeon unavailing gloom
The ponderous chains and gratings of strong iron
There rust amid the accumulated ruins
Now mingling slowly with their native earth
There the broad beam of day which feebly once
Lighted the cheek of lean captivity
With a pale and sickly glare now freely shines
On the pure smiles of infant playfulness
No more the shuddering voice of hoarse despair
Peals through the echoing vaults but soothing notes
Of ivy-fingered winds and gladsome birds
And merriment are resonant around
The fanes of Fear and Falsehood hear no more
The voice that once waked multitudes to war
Thundering thro' all their aisles but now respond
To the death dirge of the melancholy wind
It were a sight of awfulness to see
The works of faith and slavery so vast
So sumptuous yet withal so perishing
Even as the corpse that rests beneath their wall
A thousand mourners deck the pomp of death
To-day the breathing marble glows above
To decorate its memory and tongues
Are busy of its life to-morrow worms
In silence and in darkness seize their prey
These ruins soon leave not a wreck behind
Their elements wide-scattered o'er the globe
To happier shapes are moulded and become
Ministrant to all blissful impulses
Thus human things are perfected and earth
Even as a child beneath its mother love
Is strengthened in all excellence and grows
Fairer and nobler with each passing year
Now Time his dusky pennons o'er the scene
Closes in steadfast darkness and the past
Fades from our charmed sight My task is done
Thy lore is learned Earth wonders are thine own
With all the fear and all the hope they bring
My spells are past the present now recurs
Ah me a pathless wilderness remains
Yet unsubdued by man reclaiming hand
Yet human Spirit bravely hold thy course
Let virtue teach thee firmly to pursue
The gradual paths of an aspiring change
For birth and life and death and that strange state
Before the naked powers that thro' the world
Wander like winds have found a human home
All tend to perfect happiness and urge
The restless wheels of being on their way
Whose flashing spokes instinct with infinite life
Bicker and burn to gain their destined goal
For birth but wakes the universal mind
Whose mighty streams might else in silence flow
Thro' the vast world to individual sense
Of outward shows whose unexperienced shape
New modes of passion to its frame may lend
Life is its state of action and the store
Of all events is aggregated there
That variegate the eternal universe
Death is a gate of dreariness and gloom
That leads to azure isles and beaming skies
And happy regions of eternal hope
Therefore O Spirit fearlessly bear on
Though storms may break the primrose on its stalk
Though frosts may blight the freshness of its bloom
Yet spring awakening breath will woo the earth
To feed with kindliest dews its favourite flower
That blooms in mossy banks and darksome glens
Lighting the green wood with its sunny smile
Fear not then Spirit death disrobing hand
So welcome when the tyrant is awake
So welcome when the bigot hell-torch flares
'Tis but the voyage of a darksome hour
The transient gulf-dream of a startling sleep
For what thou art shall perish utterly
But what is thine may never cease to be
Death is no foe to virtue earth has seen
Love brightest roses on the scaffold bloom
Mingling with freedom fadeless laurels there
And presaging the truth of visioned bliss
Are there not hopes within thee which this scene
Of linked and gradual being has confirmed
Hopes that not vainly thou and living fires
Of mind as radiant and as pure as thou
Have shone upon the paths of men return
Surpassing Spirit to that world where thou
Art destined an eternal war to wage
With tyranny and falsehood and uproot
The germs of misery from the human heart
Thine is the hand whose piety would soothe
The thorny pillow of unhappy crime
Whose impotence an easy pardon gains
Watching its wanderings as a friend disease
Thine is the brow whose mildness would defy
Its fiercest rage and brave its sternest will
When fenced by power and master of the world
Thou art sincere and good of resolute mind
Free from heart-withering custom cold control
Of passion lofty pure and unsubdued
Earth pride and meanness could not vanquish thee
And therefore art thou worthy of the boon
Which thou hast now received virtue shall keep
Thy footsteps in the path that thou hast trod
And many days of beaming hope shall bless
Thy spotless life of sweet and sacred love
Go happy one and give that bosom joy
Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch
Light life and rapture from thy smile
Earth Ocean Air beloved brotherhood
If our great Mother has imbued my soul
With aught of natural piety to feel
Your love and recompense the boon with mine
If dewy morn and odorous noon and even
With sunset and its gorgeous ministers
And solemn midnight tingling silentness
If autumn hollow sighs in the sere wood
And winter robing with pure snow and crowns
Of starry ice the grey grass and bare boughs
If spring voluptuous pantings when she breathes
Her first sweet kisses have been dear to me
If no bright bird insect or gentle beast
I consciously have injured but still loved
And cherished these my kindred then forgive
This boast beloved brethren and withdraw
No portion of your wonted favour now
Mother of this unfathomable world
Favour my solemn song for I have loved
Thee ever and thee only I have watched
Thy shadow and the darkness of thy steps
And my heart ever gazes on the depth
Of thy deep mysteries I have made my bed
In charnels and on coffins where black death
Keeps record of the trophies won from thee
Hoping to still these obstinate questionings
Of thee and thine by forcing some lone ghost
Thy messenger to render up the tale
Of what we are In lone and silent hours
When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness
Like an inspired and desperate alchymist
Staking his very life on some dark hope
Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks
With my most innocent love until strange tears
Uniting with those breathless kisses made
Such magic as compels the charmed night
To render up thy chargeand though ne'er yet
Thou hast unveiled thy inmost sanctuary
Enough from incommunicable dream
And twilight phantasms and deep noon-day thought
Has shone within me that serenely now
And moveless as a long-forgotten lyre
Suspended in the solitary dome
Of some mysterious and deserted fane
I wait thy breath Great Parent that my strain
May modulate with murmurs of the air
And motions of the forests and the sea
And voice of living beings and woven hymns
Of night and day and the deep heart of man
There was a Poet whose untimely tomb
No human hands with pious reverence reared
But the charmed eddies of autumnal winds
Built o'er his mouldering bones a pyramid
Of mouldering leaves in the waste wilderness 
A lovely youth no mourning maiden decked
With weeping flowers or votive cypress wreath
The lone couch of his everlasting sleep 
Gentle and brave and generous no lorn bard
Breathed o'er his dark fate one melodious sigh
He lived he died he sung in solitude
Strangers have wept to hear his passionate notes
And virgins as unknown he passed have pined
And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes
The fire of those soft orbs has ceased to burn
And Silence too enamoured of that voice
Locks its mute music in her rugged cell
By solemn vision and bright silver dream
His infancy was nurtured Every sight
And sound from the vast earth and ambient air
Sent to his heart its choicest impulses
The fountains of divine philosophy
Fled not his thirsting lips and all of great
Or good or lovely which the sacred past
In truth or fable consecrates he felt
And knew When early youth had passed he left
His cold fireside and alienated home
To seek strange truths in undiscovered lands
Many a wide waste and tangled wilderness
Has lured his fearless steps and he has bought
With his sweet voice and eyes from savage men
His rest and food Nature most secret steps
He like her shadow has pursued where'er
The red volcano overcanopies
Its fields of snow and pinnacles of ice
With burning smoke or where bitumen lakes
On black bare pointed islets ever beat
With sluggish surge or where the secret caves
Rugged and dark winding among the springs
Of fire and poison inaccessible
To avarice or pride their starry domes
Of diamond and of gold expand above
Numberless and immeasurable halls
Frequent with crystal column and clear shrines
Of pearl and thrones radiant with chrysolite
Nor had that scene of ampler majesty
Than gems or gold the varying roof of heaven
And the green earth lost in his heart its claims
To love and wonder he would linger long
In lonesome vales making the wild his home
Until the doves and squirrels would partake
From his innocuous hand his bloodless food
Lured by the gentle meaning of his looks
And the wild antelope that starts whene'er
The dry leaf rustles in the brake suspend
Her timid steps to gaze upon a form
More graceful than her own His wandering step
Obedient to high thoughts has visited
The awful ruins of the days of old
Athens and Tyre and Balbec and the waste
Where stood Jerusalem the fallen towers
Of Babylon the eternal pyramids
Memphis and Thebes and whatsoe'er of strange
Sculptured on alabaster obelisk
Or jasper tomb or mutilated sphynx
Dark Aethiopia in her desert hills
Conceals Among the ruined temples there
Stupendous columns and wild images
Of more than man where marble daemons watch
The Zodiac brazen mystery and dead men
Hang their mute thoughts on the mute walls around
He lingered poring on memorials
Of the world youth through the long burning day
Gazed on those speechless shapes nor when the moon
Filled the mysterious halls with floating shades
Suspended he that task but ever gazed
And gazed till meaning on his vacant mind
Flashed like strong inspiration and he saw
The thrilling secrets of the birth of time
Meanwhile an Arab maiden brought his food
Her daily portion from her father tent
And spread her matting for his couch and stole
From duties and repose to tend his steps
Enamoured yet not daring for deep awe
To speak her love and watched his nightly sleep
Sleepless herself to gaze upon his lips
Parted in slumber whence the regular breath
Of innocent dreams arose then when red morn
Made paler the pale moon to her cold home
Wildered and wan and panting she returned
The Poet wandering on through Arabie
And Persia and the wild Carmanian waste
And o'er the aerial mountains which pour down
Indus and Oxus from their icy caves
In joy and exultation held his way
Till in the vale of Cashmire far within
Its loneliest dell where odorous plants entwine
Beneath the hollow rocks a natural bower
Beside a sparkling rivulet he stretched
His languid limbs A vision on his sleep
There came a dream of hopes that never yet
Had flushed his cheek He dreamed a veiled maid
Sate near him talking in low solemn tones
Her voice was like the voice of his own soul
Heard in the calm of thought its music long
Like woven sounds of streams and breezes held
His inmost sense suspended in its web
Of many-coloured woof and shifting hues
Knowledge and truth and virtue were her theme
And lofty hopes of divine liberty
Thoughts the most dear to him and poesy
Herself a poet Soon the solemn mood
Of her pure mind kindled through all her frame
A permeating fire wild numbers then
She raised with voice stifled in tremulous sobs
Subdued by its own pathos her fair hands
Were bare alone sweeping from some strange harp
Strange symphony and in their branching veins
The eloquent blood told an ineffable tale
The beating of her heart was heard to fill
The pauses of her music and her breath
Tumultuously accorded with those fits
Of intermitted song Sudden she rose
As if her heart impatiently endured
Its bursting burthen at the sound he turned
And saw by the warm light of their own life
Her glowing limbs beneath the sinuous veil
Of woven wind her outspread arms now bare
Her dark locks floating in the breath of night
Her beamy bending eyes her parted lips
Outstretched and pale and quivering eagerly
His strong heart sunk and sickened with excess
Of love He reared his shuddering limbs and quelled
His gasping breath and spread his arms to meet
Her panting bosomshe drew back a while
Then yielding to the irresistible joy
With frantic gesture and short breathless cry
Folded his frame in her dissolving arms
Now blackness veiled his dizzy eyes and night
Involved and swallowed up the vision sleep
Like a dark flood suspended in its course
Rolled back its impulse on his vacant brain
Roused by the shock he started from his trance 
The cold white light of morning the blue moon
Low in the west the clear and garish hills
The distinct valley and the vacant woods
Spread round him where he stood Whither have fled
The hues of heaven that canopied his bower
Of yesternight The sounds that soothed his sleep
The mystery and the majesty of Earth
The joy the exultation His wan eyes
Gaze on the empty scene as vacantly
As ocean moon looks on the moon in heaven
The spirit of sweet human love has sent
A vision to the sleep of him who spurned
Her choicest gifts He eagerly pursues
Beyond the realms of dream that fleeting shade
He overleaps the bounds Alas Alas
Were limbs and breath and being intertwined
Thus treacherously Lost lost for ever lost
In the wide pathless desert of dim sleep
That beautiful shape Does the dark gate of death
Conduct to thy mysterious paradise
O Sleep Does the bright arch of rainbow clouds
And pendent mountains seen in the calm lake
Lead only to a black and watery depth
While death blue vault with loathliest vapours hung
Where every shade which the foul grave exhales
Hides its dead eye from the detested day
Conducts O Sleep to thy delightful realms
This doubt with sudden tide flowed on his heart
The insatiate hope which it awakened stung
His brain even like despair While daylight held
The sky the Poet kept mute conference
With his still soul At night the passion came
Like the fierce fiend of a distempered dream
And shook him from his rest and led him forth
Into the darkness As an eagle grasped
In folds of the green serpent feels her breast
Burn with the poison and precipitates
Through night and day tempest and calm and cloud
Frantic with dizzying anguish her blind flight
O'er the wide aery wilderness thus driven
By the bright shadow of that lovely dream
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night
Through tangled swamps and deep precipitous dells
Startling with careless step the moonlight snake
He fled Red morning dawned upon his flight
Shedding the mockery of its vital hues
Upon his cheek of death He wandered on
Till vast Aornos seen from Petra steep
Hung o'er the low horizon like a cloud
Through Balk and where the desolated tombs
Of Parthian kings scatter to every wind
Their wasting dust wildly he wandered on
Day after day a weary waste of hours
Bearing within his life the brooding care
That ever fed on its decaying flame
And now his limbs were lean his scattered hair
Sered by the autumn of strange suffering
Sung dirges in the wind his listless hand
Hung like dead bone within its withered skin
Life and the lustre that consumed it shone
As in a furnace burning secretly
From his dark eyes alone The cottagers
Who ministered with human charity
His human wants beheld with wondering awe
Their fleeting visitant The mountaineer
Encountering on some dizzy precipice
That spectral form deemed that the Spirit of wind
With lightning eyes and eager breath and feet
Disturbing not the drifted snow had paused
In its career the infant would conceal
His troubled visage in his mother robe
In terror at the glare of those wild eyes
To remember their strange light in many a dream
Of after-times but youthful maidens taught
By nature would interpret half the woe
That wasted him would call him with false names
Brother and friend would press his pallid hand
At parting and watch dim through tears the path
Of his departure from their father door
At length upon the lone Chorasmian shore
He paused a wide and melancholy waste
Of putrid marshes A strong impulse urged
His steps to the sea-shore A swan was there
Beside a sluggish stream among the reeds
It rose as he approached and with strong wings
Scaling the upward sky bent its bright course
High over the immeasurable main
His eyes pursued its flight 'Thou hast a home
Beautiful bird thou voyagest to thine home
Where thy sweet mate will twine her downy neck
With thine and welcome thy return with eyes
Bright in the lustre of their own fond joy
And what am I that I should linger here
With voice far sweeter than thy dying notes
Spirit more vast than thine frame more attuned
To beauty wasting these surpassing powers
In the deaf air to the blind earth and heaven
That echoes not my thoughts' A gloomy smile
Of desperate hope wrinkled his quivering lips
For sleep he knew kept most relentlessly
Its precious charge and silent death exposed
Faithless perhaps as sleep a shadowy lure
With doubtful smile mocking its own strange charms
Startled by his own thoughts he looked around
There was no fair fiend near him not a sight
Or sound of awe but in his own deep mind
A little shallop floating near the shore
Caught the impatient wandering of his gaze
It had been long abandoned for its sides
Gaped wide with many a rift and its frail joints
Swayed with the undulations of the tide
A restless impulse urged him to embark
And meet lone Death on the drear ocean waste
For well he knew that mighty Shadow loves
The slimy caverns of the populous deep
The day was fair and sunny sea and sky
Drank its inspiring radiance and the wind
Swept strongly from the shore blackening the waves
Following his eager soul the wanderer
Leaped in the boat he spread his cloak aloft
On the bare mast and took his lonely seat
And felt the boat speed o'er the tranquil sea
Like a torn cloud before the hurricane
As one that in a silver vision floats
Obedient to the sweep of odorous winds
Upon resplendent clouds so rapidly
Along the dark and ruffled waters fled
The straining boat A whirlwind swept it on
With fierce gusts and precipitating force
Through the white ridges of the chafed sea
The waves arose Higher and higher still
Their fierce necks writhed beneath the tempest scourge
Like serpents struggling in a vulture grasp
Calm and rejoicing in the fearful war
Of wave ruining on wave and blast on blast
Descending and black flood on whirlpool driven
With dark obliterating course he sate
As if their genii were the ministers
Appointed to conduct him to the light
Of those beloved eyes the Poet sate
Holding the steady helm Evening came on
The beams of sunset hung their rainbow hues
High 'mid the shifting domes of sheeted spray
That canopied his path o'er the waste deep
Twilight ascending slowly from the east
Entwined in duskier wreaths her braided locks
O'er the fair front and radiant eyes of day
Night followed clad with stars On every side
More horribly the multitudinous streams
Of ocean mountainous waste to mutual war
Rushed in dark tumult thundering as to mock
The calm and spangled sky The little boat
Still fled before the storm still fled like foam
Down the steep cataract of a wintry river
Now pausing on the edge of the riven wave
Now leaving far behind the bursting mass
That fell convulsing ocean safely fled 
As if that frail and wasted human form
Had been an elemental god At midnight
The moon arose and lo the ethereal cliffs
Of Caucasus whose icy summits shone
Among the stars like sunlight and around
Whose caverned base the whirlpools and the waves
Bursting and eddying irresistibly
Rage and resound forever Who shall save 
The boat fled on the boiling torrent drove 
The crags closed round with black and jagged arms
The shattered mountain overhung the sea
And faster still beyond all human speed
Suspended on the sweep of the smooth wave
The little boat was driven A cavern there
Yawned and amid its slant and winding depths
Ingulfed the rushing sea The boat fled on
With unrelaxing speed 'Vision and Love
The Poet cried aloud 'I have beheld
The path of thy departure Sleep and death
Shall not divide us long' The boat pursued
The windings of the cavern Daylight shone
At length upon that gloomy river flow
Now where the fiercest war among the waves
Is calm on the unfathomable stream
The boat moved slowly Where the mountain riven
Exposed those black depths to the azure sky
Ere yet the flood enormous volume fell
Even to the base of Caucasus with sound
That shook the everlasting rocks the mass
Filled with one whirlpool all that ample chasm
Stair above stair the eddying waters rose
Circling immeasurably fast and laved
With alternating dash the gnarled roots
Of mighty trees that stretched their giant arms
In darkness over it I' the midst was left
Reflecting yet distorting every cloud
A pool of treacherous and tremendous calm
Seized by the sway of the ascending stream
With dizzy swiftness round and round and round
Ridge after ridge the straining boat arose
Till on the verge of the extremest curve
Where through an opening of the rocky bank
The waters overflow and a smooth spot
Of glassy quiet mid those battling tides
Is left the boat paused shuddering Shall it sink
Down the abyss Shall the reverting stress
Of that resistless gulf embosom it
Now shall it fall A wandering stream of wind
Breathed from the west has caught the expanded sail
And lo with gentle motion between banks
Of mossy slope and on a placid stream
Beneath a woven grove it sails and hark
The ghastly torrent mingles its far roar
With the breeze murmuring in the musical woods
Where the embowering trees recede and leave
A little space of green expanse the cove
Is closed by meeting banks whose yellow flowers
For ever gaze on their own drooping eyes
Reflected in the crystal calm The wave
Of the boat motion marred their pensive task
Which naught but vagrant bird or wanton wind
Or falling spear-grass or their own decay
Had e'er disturbed before The Poet longed
To deck with their bright hues his withered hair
But on his heart its solitude returned
And he forbore Not the strong impulse hid
In those flushed cheeks bent eyes and shadowy frame
Had yet performed its ministry it hung
Upon his life as lightning in a cloud
Gleams hovering ere it vanish ere the floods
Of night close over it The noonday sun
Now shone upon the forest one vast mass
Of mingling shade whose brown magnificence
A narrow vale embosoms There huge caves
Scooped in the dark base of their aery rocks
Mocking its moans respond and roar for ever
The meeting boughs and implicated leaves
Wove twilight o'er the Poet path as led
By love or dream or god or mightier Death
He sought in Nature dearest haunt some bank
Her cradle and his sepulchre More dark
And dark the shades accumulate The oak
Expanding its immense and knotty arms
Embraces the light beech The pyramids
Of the tall cedar overarching frame
Most solemn domes within and far below
Like clouds suspended in an emerald sky
The ash and the acacia floating hang
Tremulous and pale Like restless serpents clothed
In rainbow and in fire the parasites
Starred with ten thousand blossoms flow around
The grey trunks and as gamesome infants' eyes
With gentle meanings and most innocent wiles
Fold their beams round the hearts of those that love
These twine their tendrils with the wedded boughs
Uniting their close union the woven leaves
Make net-work of the dark blue light of day
And the night noontide clearness mutable
As shapes in the weird clouds Soft mossy lawns
Beneath these canopies extend their swells
Fragrant with perfumed herbs and eyed with blooms
Minute yet beautiful One darkest glen
Sends from its woods of musk-rose twined with jasmine
A soul-dissolving odour to invite
To some more lovely mystery Through the dell
Silence and Twilight here twin-sisters keep
Their noonday watch and sail among the shades
Like vaporous shapes half-seen beyond a well
Dark gleaming and of most translucent wave
Images all the woven boughs above
And each depending leaf and every speck
Of azure sky darting between their chasms
Nor aught else in the liquid mirror laves
Its portraiture but some inconstant star
Between one foliaged lattice twinkling fair
Or painted bird sleeping beneath the moon
Or gorgeous insect floating motionless
Unconscious of the day ere yet his wings
Have spread their glories to the gaze of noon
Hither the Poet came His eyes beheld
Their own wan light through the reflected lines
Of his thin hair distinct in the dark depth
Of that still fountain as the human heart
Gazing in dreams over the gloomy grave
Sees its own treacherous likeness there He heard
The motion of the leaves the grass that sprung
Startled and glanced and trembled even to feel
An unaccustomed presence and the sound
Of the sweet brook that from the secret springs
Of that dark fountain rose A Spirit seemed
To stand beside him clothed in no bright robes
Of shadowy silver or enshrining light
Borrowed from aught the visible world affords
Of grace or majesty or mystery 
But undulating woods and silent well
And leaping rivulet and evening gloom
Now deepening the dark shades for speech assuming
Held commune with him as if he and it
Were all that was onlywhen his regard
Was raised by intense pensivenesstwo eyes
Two starry eyes hung in the gloom of thought
And seemed with their serene and azure smiles
To beckon him Obedient to the light
That shone within his soul he went pursuing
The windings of the dell The rivulet
Wanton and wild through many a green ravine
Beneath the forest flowed Sometimes it fell
Among the moss with hollow harmony
Dark and profound Now on the polished stones
It danced like childhood laughing as it went
Then through the plain in tranquil wanderings crept
Reflecting every herb and drooping bud
That overhung its quietness 'O stream
Whose source is inaccessibly profound
Whither do thy mysterious waters tend
Thou imagest my life Thy darksome stillness
Thy dazzling waves thy loud and hollow gulfs
Thy searchless fountain and invisible course
Have each their type in me and the wide sky
And measureless ocean may declare as soon
What oozy cavern or what wandering cloud
Contains thy waters as the universe
Tell where these living thoughts reside when stretched
Upon thy flowers my bloodless limbs shall waste
I' the passing wind' Beside the grassy shore
Of the small stream he went he did impress
On the green moss his tremulous step that caught
Strong shuddering from his burning limbs As one
Roused by some joyous madness from the couch
Of fever he did move yet not like him
Forgetful of the grave where when the flame
Of his frail exultation shall be spent
He must descend With rapid steps he went
Beneath the shade of trees beside the flow
Of the wild babbling rivulet and now
The forest solemn canopies were changed
For the uniform and lightsome evening sky
Grey rocks did peep from the spare moss and stemmed
The struggling brook tall spires of windlestrae
Threw their thin shadows down the rugged slope
And nought but gnarled roots of ancient pines
Branchless and blasted clenched with grasping roots
The unwilling soil A gradual change was here
Yet ghastly For as fast years flow away
The smooth brow gathers and the hair grows thin
And white and where irradiate dewy eyes
Had shone gleam stony orbs so from his steps
Bright flowers departed and the beautiful shade
Of the green groves with all their odorous winds
And musical motions Calm he still pursued
The stream that with a larger volume now
Rolled through the labyrinthine dell and there
Fretted a path through its descending curves
With its wintry speed On every side now rose
Rocks which in unimaginable forms
Lifted their black and barren pinnacles
In the light of evening and its precipice
Obscuring the ravine disclosed above
Mid toppling stones black gulfs and yawning caves
Whose windings gave ten thousand various tongues
To the loud stream Lo where the pass expands
Its stony jaws the abrupt mountain breaks
And seems with its accumulated crags
To overhang the world for wide expand
Beneath the wan stars and descending moon
Islanded seas blue mountains mighty streams
Dim tracts and vast robed in the lustrous gloom
Of leaden-coloured even and fiery hills
Mingling their flames with twilight on the verge
Of the remote horizon The near scene
In naked and severe simplicity
Made contrast with the universe A pine
Rock-rooted stretched athwart the vacancy
Its swinging boughs to each inconstant blast
Yielding one only response at each pause
In most familiar cadence with the howl
The thunder and the hiss of homeless streams
Mingling its solemn song whilst the broad river
Foaming and hurrying o'er its rugged path
Fell into that immeasurable void
Scattering its waters to the passing winds
Yet the grey precipice and solemn pine
And torrent were not all one silent nook
Was there Even on the edge of that vast mountain
Upheld by knotty roots and fallen rocks
It overlooked in its serenity
The dark earth and the bending vault of stars
It was a tranquil spot that seemed to smile
Even in the lap of horror Ivy clasped
The fissured stones with its entwining arms
And did embower with leaves for ever green
And berries dark the smooth and even space
Of its inviolated floor and here
The children of the autumnal whirlwind bore
In wanton sport those bright leaves whose decay
Red yellow or ethereally pale
Rivals the pride of summer 'Tis the haunt
Of every gentle wind whose breath can teach
The wilds to love tranquillity One step
One human step alone has ever broken
The stillness of its solitude one voice
Alone inspired its echoes even that voice
Which hither came floating among the winds
And led the loveliest among human forms
To make their wild haunts the depository
Of all the grace and beauty that endued
Its motions render up its majesty
Scatter its music on the unfeeling storm
And to the damp leaves and blue cavern mould
Nurses of rainbow flowers and branching moss
Commit the colours of that varying cheek
That snowy breast those dark and drooping eyes
The dim and horned moon hung low and poured
A sea of lustre on the horizon verge
That overflowed its mountains Yellow mist
Filled the unbounded atmosphere and drank
Wan moonlight even to fulness not a star
Shone not a sound was heard the very winds
Danger grim playmates on that precipice
Slept clasped in his embrace O storm of death
Whose sightless speed divides this sullen night
And thou colossal Skeleton that still
Guiding its irresistible career
In thy devastating omnipotence
Art king of this frail world from the red field
Of slaughter from the reeking hospital
The patriot sacred couch the snowy bed
Of innocence the scaffold and the throne
A mighty voice invokes thee Ruin calls
His brother Death A rare and regal prey
He hath prepared prowling around the world
Glutted with which thou mayst repose and men
Go to their graves like flowers or creeping worms
Nor ever more offer at thy dark shrine
The unheeded tribute of a broken heart
When on the threshold of the green recess
The wanderer footsteps fell he knew that death
Was on him Yet a little ere it fled
Did he resign his high and holy soul
To images of the majestic past
That paused within his passive being now
Like winds that bear sweet music when they breathe
Through some dim latticed chamber He did place
His pale lean hand upon the rugged trunk
Of the old pine Upon an ivied stone
Reclined his languid head his limbs did rest
Diffused and motionless on the smooth brink
Of that obscurest chasm and thus he lay
Surrendering to their final impulses
The hovering powers of life Hope and despair
The torturers slept no mortal pain or fear
Marred his repose the influxes of sense
And his own being unalloyed by pain
Yet feebler and more feeble calmly fed
The stream of thought till he lay breathing there
At peace and faintly smiling his last sight
Was the great moon which o'er the western line
Of the wide world her mighty horn suspended
With whose dun beams inwoven darkness seemed
To mingle Now upon the jagged hills
It rests and still as the divided frame
Of the vast meteor sunk the Poet blood
That ever beat in mystic sympathy
With nature ebb and flow grew feebler still
And when two lessening points of light alone
Gleamed through the darkness the alternate gasp
Of his faint respiration scarce did stir
The stagnate night till the minutest ray
Was quenched the pulse yet lingered in his heart
It paused it fluttered But when heaven remained
Utterly black the murky shades involved
An image silent cold and motionless
As their own voiceless earth and vacant air
Even as a vapour fed with golden beams
That ministered on sunlight ere the west
Eclipses it was now that wondrous frame 
No sense no motion no divinity 
A fragile lute on whose harmonious strings
The breath of heaven did wander a bright stream
Once fed with many-voiced waves a dream
Of youth which night and time have quenched for ever
Still dark and dry and unremembered now
Oh for Medea wondrous alchemy
Which wheresoe'er it fell made the earth gleam
With bright flowers and the wintry boughs exhale
From vernal blooms fresh fragrance O that God
Profuse of poisons would concede the chalice
Which but one living man has drained who now
Vessel of deathless wrath a slave that feels
No proud exemption in the blighting curse
He bears over the world wanders for ever
Lone as incarnate death O that the dream
Of dark magician in his visioned cave
Raking the cinders of a crucible
For life and power even when his feeble hand
Shakes in its last decay were the true law
Of this so lovely world But thou art fled
Like some frail exhalation which the dawn
Robes in its golden beams ah thou hast fled
The brave the gentle and the beautiful
The child of grace and genius Heartless things
Are done and said i' the world and many worms
And beasts and men live on and mighty Earth
From sea and mountain city and wilderness
In vesper low or joyous orison
Lifts still its solemn voice but thou art fled 
Thou canst no longer know or love the shapes
Of this phantasmal scene who have to thee
Been purest ministers who are alas
Now thou art not Upon those pallid lips
So sweet even in their silence on those eyes
That image sleep in death upon that form
Yet safe from the worm outrage let no tear
Be shed not even in thought Nor when those hues
Are gone and those divinest lineaments
Worn by the senseless wind shall live alone
In the frail pauses of this simple strain
Let not high verse mourning the memory
Of that which is no more or painting woe
Or sculpture speak in feeble imagery
Their own cold powers Art and eloquence
And all the shows o' the world are frail and vain
To weep a loss that turns their lights to shade
It is a woe too deep for tears when all
Is reft at once when some surpassing Spirit
Whose light adorned the world around it leaves
Those who remain behind not sobs or groans
The passionate tumult of a clinging hope
But pale despair and cold tranquillity
Nature vast frame the web of human things
So now my summer-task is ended Mary
And I return to thee mine own heart home
As to his Queen some victor Knight of Faery
Earning bright spoils for her enchanted dome
Nor thou disdain that ere my fame become
A star among the stars of mortal night
If it indeed may cleave its natal gloom
Its doubtful promise thus I would unite
The toil which stole from thee so many an hour
Is ended and the fruit is at thy feet
No longer where the woods to frame a bower
With interlaced branches mix and meet
Or where with sound like many voices sweet
Waterfalls leap among wild islands green
Which framed for my lone boat a lone retreat
Of moss-grown trees and weeds shall I be seen
Thoughts of great deeds were mine dear Friend when first
The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass
I do remember well the hour which burst
My spirit sleep A fresh May-dawn it was
When I walked forth upon the glittering grass
And wept I knew not why until there rose
From the near schoolroom voices that alas
Were but one echo from a world of woes 
And then I clasped my hands and looked around 
 But none was near to mock my streaming eyes
Which poured their warm drops on the sunny ground 
So without shame I spake 'I will be wise
And just and free and mild if in me lies
Such power for I grow weary to behold
The selfish and the strong still tyrannise
Without reproach or check' I then controlled
And from that hour did I with earnest thought
Heap knowledge from forbidden mines of lore
Yet nothing that my tyrants knew or taught
I cared to learn but from that secret store
Wrought linked armour for my soul before
It might walk forth to war among mankind
Thus power and hope were strengthened more and more
Within me till there came upon my mind
Alas that love should be a blight and snare
To those who seek all sympathies in one 
Such once I sought in vain then black despair
The shadow of a starless night was thrown
Over the world in which I moved alone 
Yet never found I one not false to me
Hard hearts and cold like weights of icy stone
Which crushed and withered mine that could not be
Thou Friend whose presence on my wintry heart
Fell like bright Spring upon some herbless plain
How beautiful and calm and free thou wert
In thy young wisdom when the mortal chain
Of Custom thou didst burst and rend in twain
And walked as free as light the clouds among
Which many an envious slave then breathed in vain
From his dim dungeon and my spirit sprung
No more alone through the world wilderness
Although I trod the paths of high intent
I journeyed now no more companionless
Where solitude is like despair I went 
There is the wisdom of a stern content
When Poverty can blight the just and good
When Infamy dares mock the innocent
And cherished friends turn with the multitude
Now has descended a serener hour
And with inconstant fortune friends return
Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power
Which says Let scorn be not repaid with scorn
And from thy side two gentle babes are born
To fill our home with smiles and thus are we
Most fortunate beneath life beaming morn
And these delights and thou have been to me
Is it that now my inexperienced fingers
But strike the prelude of a loftier strain
Or must the lyre on which my spirit lingers
Soon pause in silence ne'er to sound again
Though it might shake the Anarch Custom reign
And charm the minds of men to Truth own sway
Holier than was Amphion I would fain
Reply in hope but I am worn away
And what art thou I know but dare not speak
Time may interpret to his silent years
Yet in the paleness of thy thoughtful cheek
And in the light thine ample forehead wears
And in thy sweetest smiles and in thy tears
And in thy gentle speech a prophecy
Is whispered to subdue my fondest fears
And through thine eyes even in thy soul I see
They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth
Of glorious parents thou aspiring Child
I wonder not for One then left this earth
Whose life was like a setting planet mild
Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled
Of its departing glory still her fame
Shines on thee through the tempests dark and wild
Which shake these latter days and thou canst claim
One voice came forth from many a mighty spirit
Which was the echo of three thousand years
And the tumultuous world stood mute to hear it
As some lone man who in a desert hears
The music of his home unwonted fears
Fell on the pale oppressors of our race
And Faith and Custom and low-thoughted cares
Like thunder-stricken dragons for a space
Truth deathless voice pauses among mankind
If there must be no response to my cry 
If men must rise and stamp with fury blind
On his pure name who loves them thou and I
Sweet friend can look from our tranquillity
Like lamps into the world tempestuous night 
Two tranquil stars while clouds are passing by
Which wrap them from the foundering seaman sight
When the last hope of trampled France had failed
Like a brief dream of unremaining glory
From visions of despair I rose and scaled
The peak of an aerial promontory
Whose caverned base with the vexed surge was hoary
And saw the golden dawn break forth and waken
Each cloud and every wave but transitory
The calm for sudden the firm earth was shaken
So as I stood one blast of muttering thunder
Burst in far peals along the waveless deep
When gathering fast around above and under
Long trains of tremulous mist began to creep
Until their complicating lines did steep
The orient sun in shadow not a sound
Was heard one horrible repose did keep
The forests and the floods and all around
Hark 'tis the rushing of a wind that sweeps
Earth and the ocean See the lightnings yawn
Deluging Heaven with fire and the lashed deeps
Glitter and boil beneath it rages on
One mighty stream whirlwind and waves upthrown
Lightning and hail and darkness eddying by
There is a pause the sea-birds that were gone
Into their caves to shriek come forth to spy
For where the irresistible storm had cloven
That fearful darkness the blue sky was seen
Fretted with many a fair cloud interwoven
Most delicately and the ocean green
Beneath that opening spot of blue serene
Quivered like burning emerald calm was spread
On all below but far on high between
Earth and the upper air the vast clouds fled
For ever as the war became more fierce
Between the whirlwinds and the rack on high
That spot grew more serene blue light did pierce
The woof of those white clouds which seem to lie
Far deep and motionless while through the sky
The pallid semicircle of the moon
Passed on in slow and moving majesty
Its upper horn arrayed in mists which soon
I could not choose but gaze a fascination
Dwelt in that moon and sky and clouds which drew
My fancy thither and in expectation
Of what I knew not I remained the hue
Of the white moon amid that heaven so blue
Suddenly stained with shadow did appear
A speck a cloud a shape approaching grew
Like a great ship in the sun sinking sphere
Even like a bark which from a chasm of mountains
Dark vast and overhanging on a river
Which there collects the strength of all its fountains
Comes forth whilst with the speed its frame doth quiver
Sails oars and stream tending to one endeavour
So from that chasm of light a winged Form
On all the winds of heaven approaching ever
Floated dilating as it came the storm
A course precipitous of dizzy speed
Suspending thought and breath a monstrous sight
For in the air do I behold indeed
An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight 
And now relaxing its impetuous flight
Before the aerial rock on which I stood
The Eagle hovering wheeled to left and right
And hung with lingering wings over the flood
A shaft of light upon its wings descended
And every golden feather gleamed therein 
Feather and scale inextricably blended
The Serpent mailed and many-coloured skin
Shone through the plumes its coils were twined within
By many a swoln and knotted fold and high
And far the neck receding lithe and thin
Sustained a crested head which warily
Around around in ceaseless circles wheeling
With clang of wings and scream the Eagle sailed
Incessantly sometimes on high concealing
Its lessening orbs sometimes as if it failed
Drooped through the air and still it shrieked and wailed
And casting back its eager head with beak
And talon unremittingly assailed
The wreathed Serpent who did ever seek
What life what power was kindled and arose
Within the sphere of that appalling fray
For from the encounter of those wondrous foes
A vapour like the sea suspended spray
Hung gathered in the void air far away
Floated the shattered plumes bright scales did leap
Where'er the Eagle talons made their way
Like sparks into the darkness as they sweep
Swift chances in that combat many a check
And many a change a dark and wild turmoil
Sometimes the Snake around his enemy neck
Locked in stiff rings his adamantine coil
Until the Eagle faint with pain and toil
Remitted his strong flight and near the sea
Languidly fluttered hopeless so to foil
His adversary who then reared on high
Then on the white edge of the bursting surge
Where they had sunk together would the Snake
Relax his suffocating grasp and scourge
The wind with his wild writhings for to break
That chain of torment the vast bird would shake
The strength of his unconquerable wings
As in despair and with his sinewy neck
Dissolve in sudden shock those linked rings 
Wile baffled wile and strength encountered strength
Thus long but unprevailing the event
Of that portentous fight appeared at length
Until the lamp of day was almost spent
It had endured when lifeless stark and rent
Hung high that mighty Serpent and at last
Fell to the sea while o'er the continent
With clang of wings and scream the Eagle passed
And with it fled the tempest so that ocean
And earth and sky shone through the atmosphere 
Only 'twas strange to see the red commotion
Of waves like mountains o'er the sinking sphere
Of sunset sweep and their fierce roar to hear
Amid the calm down the steep path I wound
To the sea-shore the evening was most clear
And beautiful and there the sea I found
There was a Woman beautiful as morning
Sitting beneath the rocks upon the sand
Of the waste sea fair as one flower adorning
An icy wilderness each delicate hand
Lay crossed upon her bosom and the band
Of her dark hair had fall'n and so she sate
Looking upon the waves on the bare strand
Upon the sea-mark a small boat did wait
It seemed that this fair Shape had looked upon
That unimaginable fight and now
That her sweet eyes were weary of the sun
As brightly it illustrated her woe
For in the tears which silently to flow
Paused not its lustre hung she watching aye
The foam-wreaths which the faint tide wove below
Upon the spangled sands groaned heavily
And when she saw the wounded Serpent make
His path between the waves her lips grew pale
Parted and quivered the tears ceased to break
From her immovable eyes no voice of wail
Escaped her but she rose and on the gale
Loosening her star-bright robe and shadowy hair
Poured forth her voice the caverns of the vale
That opened to the ocean caught it there
She spake in language whose strange melody
Might not belong to earth I heard alone
What made its music more melodious be
The pity and the love of every tone
But to the Snake those accents sweet were known
His native tongue and hers nor did he beat
The hoar spray idly then but winding on
Through the green shadows of the waves that meet
Then on the sands the Woman sate again
And wept and clasped her hands and all between
Renewed the unintelligible strain
Of her melodious voice and eloquent mien
And she unveiled her bosom and the green
And glancing shadows of the sea did play
O'er its marmoreal depth one moment seen
For ere the next the Serpent did obey
Then she arose and smiled on me with eyes
Serene yet sorrowing like that planet fair
While yet the daylight lingereth in the skies
Which cleaves with arrowy beams the dark-red air
And said 'To grieve is wise but the despair
Was weak and vain which led thee here from sleep
This shalt thou know and more if thou dost dare
With me and with this Serpent o'er the deep
Her voice was like the wildest saddest tone
Yet sweet of some loved voice heard long ago
I wept 'Shall this fair woman all alone
Over the sea with that fierce Serpent go
His head is on her heart and who can know
How soon he may devour his feeble prey' 
Such were my thoughts when the tide gan to flow
And that strange boat like the moon shade did sway
A boat of rare device which had no sail
But its own curved prow of thin moonstone
Wrought like a web of texture fine and frail
To catch those gentlest winds which are not known
To breathe but by the steady speed alone
With which it cleaves the sparkling sea and now
We are embarked the mountains hang and frown
Over the starry deep that gleams below
And as we sailed a strange and awful tale
That Woman told like such mysterious dream
As makes the slumberer cheek with wonder pale
'Twas midnight and around a shoreless stream
Wide ocean rolled when that majestic theme
Shrined in her heart found utterance and she bent
Her looks on mine those eyes a kindling beam
Of love divine into my spirit sent
'Speak not to me but hear Much shalt thou learn
Much must remain unthought and more untold
In the dark Future ever-flowing urn
Know then that from the depth of ages old
Two Powers o'er mortal things dominion hold
Ruling the world with a divided lot
Immortal all-pervading manifold
Twin Genii equal Gods when life and thought
'The earliest dweller of the world alone
Stood on the verge of chaos Lo afar
O'er the wide wild abyss two meteors shone
Sprung from the depth of its tempestuous jar
A blood-red Comet and the Morning Star
Mingling their beams in combat as he stood
All thoughts within his mind waged mutual war
In dreadful sympathy when to the flood
'Thus evil triumphed and the Spirit of evil
One Power of many shapes which none may know
One Shape of many names the Fiend did revel
In victory reigning o'er a world of woe
For the new race of man went to and fro
Famished and homeless loathed and loathing wild
And hating good for his immortal foe
He changed from starry shape beauteous and mild
'The darkness lingering o'er the dawn of things
Was Evil breath and life this made him strong
To soar aloft with overshadowing wings
And the great Spirit of Good did creep among
The nations of mankind and every tongue
Cursed and blasphemed him as he passed for none
Knew good from evil though their names were hung
In mockery o'er the fane where many a groan
'The Fiend whose name was Legion Death Decay
Earthquake and Blight and Want and Madness pale
Winged and wan diseases an array
Numerous as leaves that strew the autumnal gale
Poison a snake in flowers beneath the veil
Of food and mirth hiding his mortal head
And without whom all these might nought avail
Fear Hatred Faith and Tyranny who spread
'His spirit is their power and they his slaves
In air and light and thought and language dwell
And keep their state from palaces to graves
In all resorts of men invisible
But when in ebon mirror Nightmare fell
To tyrant or impostor bids them rise
Black winged demon forms whom from the hell
His reign and dwelling beneath nether skies
'In the world youth his empire was as firm
As its foundationsSoon the Spirit of Good
Though in the likeness of a loathsome worm
Sprang from the billows of the formless flood
Which shrank and fled and with that Fiend of blood
Renewed the doubtful warThrones then first shook
And earth immense and trampled multitude
In hope on their own powers began to look
'Then Greece arose and to its bards and sages
In dream the golden-pinioned Genii came
Even where they slept amid the night of ages
Steeping their hearts in the divinest flame
Which thy breath kindled Power of holiest name
And oft in cycles since when darkness gave
New weapons to thy foe their sunlike fame
Upon the combat shone a light to save
'Such is this conflict when mankind doth strive
With its oppressors in a strife of blood
Or when free thoughts like lightnings are alive
And in each bosom of the multitude
Justice and truth with Custom hydra brood
Wage silent war when Priests and Kings dissemble
In smiles or frowns their fierce disquietude
When round pure hearts a host of hopes assemble
'Thou hast beheld that fight when to thy home
Thou dost return steep not its hearth in tears
Though thou may'st hear that earth is now become
The tyrant garbage which to his compeers
The vile reward of their dishonoured years
He will dividing give The victor Fiend
Omnipotent of yore now quails and fears
His triumph dearly won which soon will lend
'List stranger list mine is an human form
Like that thou wearest touch me shrink not now
My hand thou feel'st is not a ghost but warm
With human blood 'Twas many years ago
Since first my thirsting soul aspired to know
The secrets of this wondrous world when deep
My heart was pierced with sympathy for woe
Which could not be mine own and thought did keep
'Woe could not be mine own since far from men
I dwelt a free and happy orphan child
By the sea-shore in a deep mountain glen
And near the waves and through the forests wild
I roamed to storm and darkness reconciled
For I was calm while tempest shook the sky
But when the breathless heavens in beauty smiled
I wept sweet tears yet too tumultuously
'These were forebodings of my fate before
A woman heart beat in my virgin breast
It had been nurtured in divinest lore
A dying poet gave me books and blessed
With wild but holy talk the sweet unrest
In which I watched him as he died away 
A youth with hoary hair a fleeting guest
Of our lone mountains and this lore did sway
'Thus the dark tale which history doth unfold
I knew but not methinks as others know
For they weep not and Wisdom had unrolled
The clouds which hide the gulf of mortal woe 
To few can she that warning vision show 
For I loved all things with intense devotion
So that when Hope deep source in fullest flow
'When first the living blood through all these veins
Kindled a thought in sense great France sprang forth
And seized as if to break the ponderous chains
Which bind in woe the nations of the earth
I saw and started from my cottage-hearth
And to the clouds and waves in tameless gladness
Shrieked till they caught immeasurable mirth 
'Deep slumber fell on me my dreams were fire 
Soft and delightful thoughts did rest and hover
Like shadows o'er my brain and strange desire
The tempest of a passion raging over
My tranquil soul its depths with light did cover
Which passed and calm and darkness sweeter far
Came then I loved but not a human lover
For when I rose from sleep the Morning Star
''Twas like an eye which seemed to smile on me
I watched till by the sun made pale it sank
Under the billows of the heaving sea
But from its beams deep love my spirit drank
And to my brain the boundless world now shrank
Into one thought one image yes for ever
Even like the dayspring poured on vapours dank
The beams of that one Star did shoot and quiver
'The day passed thus at night methought in dream
A shape of speechless beauty did appear
It stood like light on a careering stream
Of golden clouds which shook the atmosphere
A winged youth his radiant brow did wear
The Morning Star a wild dissolving bliss
Over my frame he breathed approaching near
And bent his eyes of kindling tenderness
'And said A Spirit loves thee mortal maiden
How wilt thou prove thy worth Then joy and sleep
Together fled my soul was deeply laden
And to the shore I went to muse and weep
But as I moved over my heart did creep
A joy less soft but more profound and strong
Than my sweet dream and it forbade to keep
The path of the sea-shore that Spirit tongue
'How to that vast and peopled city led
Which was a field of holy warfare then
I walked among the dying and the dead
And shared in fearless deeds with evil men
Calm as an angel in the dragon den 
How I braved death for liberty and truth
And spurned at peace and power and fame and when
Those hopes had lost the glory of their youth
'Warm tears throng fast the tale may not be said 
Know then that when this grief had been subdued
I was not left like others cold and dead
The Spirit whom I loved in solitude
Sustained his child the tempest-shaken wood
The waves the fountains and the hush of night 
These were his voice and well I understood
His smile divine when the calm sea was bright
'In lonely glens amid the roar of rivers
When the dim nights were moonless have I known
Joys which no tongue can tell my pale lip quivers
When thought revisits them know thou alone
That after many wondrous years were flown
I was awakened by a shriek of woe
And over me a mystic robe was thrown
By viewless hands and a bright Star did glow
'Thou fearest not then the Serpent on thy heart
'Fear it' she said with brief and passionate cry
And spake no more that silence made me start 
I looked and we were sailing pleasantly
Swift as a cloud between the sea and sky
Beneath the rising moon seen far away
Mountains of ice like sapphire piled on high
Hemming the horizon round in silence lay
And swift and swifter grew the vessel motion
So that a dizzy trance fell on my brain 
Wild music woke me we had passed the ocean
Which girds the pole Nature remotest reign 
And we glode fast o'er a pellucid plain
Of waters azure with the noontide day
Ethereal mountains shone around a Fane
Stood in the midst girt by green isles which lay
It was a Temple such as mortal hand
Has never built nor ecstasy nor dream
Reared in the cities of enchanted land
'Twas likest Heaven ere yet day purple stream
Ebbs o'er the western forest while the gleam
Of the unrisen moon among the clouds
Is gathering when with many a golden beam
The thronging constellations rush in crowds
Like what may be conceived of this vast dome
When from the depths which thought can seldom pierce
Genius beholds it rise his native home
Girt by the deserts of the Universe
Yet nor in painting light or mightier verse
Or sculpture marble language can invest
That shape to mortal sense such glooms immerse
That incommunicable sight and rest
Winding among the lawny islands fair
Whose blosmy forests starred the shadowy deep
The wingless boat paused where an ivory stair
Its fretwork in the crystal sea did steep
Encircling that vast Fane aerial heap
We disembarked and through a portal wide
We passed whose roof of moonstone carved did keep
A glimmering o'er the forms on every side
We came to a vast hall whose glorious roof
Was diamond which had drunk the lightning sheen
In darkness and now poured it through the woof
Of spell-inwoven clouds hung there to screen
Its blinding splendour through such veil was seen
That work of subtlest power divine and rare
Orb above orb with starry shapes between
And horned moons and meteors strange and fair
Ten thousand columns in that quivering light
Distinct between whose shafts wound far away
The long and labyrinthine aisles more bright
With their own radiance than the Heaven of Day
And on the jasper walls around there lay
Paintings the poesy of mightiest thought
Which did the Spirit history display
A tale of passionate change divinely taught
Beneath there sate on many a sapphire throne
The Great who had departed from mankind
A mighty Senate some whose white hair shone
Like mountain snow mild beautiful and blind
Some female forms whose gestures beamed with mind
And ardent youths and children bright and fair
And some had lyres whose strings were intertwined
With pale and clinging flames which ever there
One seat was vacant in the midst a throne
Reared on a pyramid like sculptured flame
Distinct with circling steps which rested on
Their own deep fire soon as the Woman came
Into that hall she shrieked the Spirit name
And fell and vanished slowly from the sight
Darkness arose from her dissolving frame
Which gathering filled that dome of woven light
Then first two glittering lights were seen to glide
In circles on the amethystine floor
Small serpent eyes trailing from side to side
Like meteors on a river grassy shore
They round each other rolled dilating more
And more then rose commingling into one
One clear and mighty planet hanging o'er
A cloud of deepest shadow which was thrown
The cloud which rested on that cone of flame
Was cloven beneath the planet sate a Form
Fairer than tongue can speak or thought may frame
The radiance of whose limbs rose-like and warm
Flowed forth and did with softest light inform
The shadowy dome the sculptures and the state
Of those assembled shapes with clinging charm
Sinking upon their hearts and mine He sate
Wonder and joy a passing faintness threw
Over my brow a hand supported me
Whose touch was magic strength an eye of blue
Looked into mine like moonlight soothingly
And a voice said 'Thou must a listener be
This day two mighty Spirits now return
Like birds of calm from the world raging sea
They pour fresh light from Hope immortal urn
I looked and lo one stood forth eloquently
His eyes were dark and deep and the clear brow
Which shadowed them was like the morning sky
The cloudless Heaven of Spring when in their flow
Through the bright air the soft winds as they blow
Wake the green world his gestures did obey
The oracular mind that made his features glow
And where his curved lips half-open lay
Beneath the darkness of his outspread hair
He stood thus beautiful but there was One
Who sate beside him like his shadow there
And held his hand far lovelier she was known
To be thus fair by the few lines alone
Which through her floating locks and gathered cloak
Glances of soul-dissolving glory shone 
None else beheld her eyes in him they woke
The starlight smile of children the sweet looks
Of women the fair breast from which I fed
The murmur of the unreposing brooks
And the green light which shifting overhead
Some tangled bower of vines around me shed
The shells on the sea-sand and the wild flowers
The lamp-light through the rafters cheerly spread
And on the twining flax in life young hours
In Argolis beside the echoing sea
Such impulses within my mortal frame
Arose and they were dear to memory
Like tokens of the dead but others came
Soon in another shape the wondrous fame
Of the past world the vital words and deeds
Of minds whom neither time nor change can tame
Traditions dark and old whence evil creeds
I heard as all have heard the various story
Of human life and wept unwilling tears
Feeble historians of its shame and glory
False disputants on all its hopes and fears
Victims who worshipped ruin chroniclers
Of daily scorn and slaves who loathed their state
Yet flattering power had given its ministers
A throne of judgement in the grave 'twas fate
The land in which I lived by a fell bane
Was withered up Tyrants dwelt side by side
And stabled in our homes until the chain
Stifled the captive cry and to abide
That blasting curse men had no shame all vied
In evil slave and despot fear with lust
Strange fellowship through mutual hate had tied
Like two dark serpents tangled in the dust
Earth our bright home its mountains and its waters
And the ethereal shapes which are suspended
Over its green expanse and those fair daughters
The clouds of Sun and Ocean who have blended
The colours of the air since first extended
It cradled the young world none wandered forth
To see or feel a darkness had descended
On every heart the light which shows its worth
This vital world this home of happy spirits
Was as a dungeon to my blasted kind
All that despair from murdered hope inherits
They sought and in their helpless misery blind
A deeper prison and heavier chains did find
And stronger tyrants a dark gulf before
The realm of a stern Ruler yawned behind
Terror and Time conflicting drove and bore
Out of that Ocean wrecks had Guilt and Woe
Framed a dark dwelling for their homeless thought
And starting at the ghosts which to and fro
Glide o'er its dim and gloomy strand had brought
The worship thence which they each other taught
Well might men loathe their life well might they turn
Even to the ills again from which they sought
Such refuge after death well might they learn
For they all pined in bondage body and soul
Tyrant and slave victim and torturer bent
Before one Power to which supreme control
Over their will by their own weakness lent
Made all its many names omnipotent
All symbols of things evil all divine
And hymns of blood or mockery which rent
The air from all its fanes did intertwine
I heard as all have heard life various story
And in no careless heart transcribed the tale
But from the sneers of men who had grown hoary
In shame and scorn from groans of crowds made pale
By famine from a mother desolate wail
O'er her polluted child from innocent blood
Poured on the earth and brows anxious and pale
With the heart warfare did I gather food
I wandered through the wrecks of days departed
Far by the desolated shore when even
O'er the still sea and jagged islets darted
The light of moonrise in the northern Heaven
Among the clouds near the horizon driven
The mountains lay beneath one planet pale
Around me broken tombs and columns riven
Looked vast in twilight and the sorrowing gale
I knew not who had framed these wonders then
Nor had I heard the story of their deeds
But dwellings of a race of mightier men
And monuments of less ungentle creeds
Tell their own tale to him who wisely heeds
The language which they speak and now to me
The moonlight making pale the blooming weeds
The bright stars shining in the breathless sea
Such man has been and such may yet become
Ay wiser greater gentler even than they
Who on the fragments of yon shattered dome
Have stamped the sign of power I felt the sway
Of the vast stream of ages bear away
My floating thoughts my heart beat loud and fast 
Even as a storm let loose beneath the ray
Of the still moon my spirit onward passed
It shall be thus no more too long too long
Sons of the glorious dead have ye lain bound
In darkness and in ruin Hope is strong
Justice and Truth their winged child have found 
Awake arise until the mighty sound
Of your career shall scatter in its gust
The thrones of the oppressor and the ground
Hide the last altar unregarded dust
It must be so I will arise and waken
The multitude and like a sulphurous hill
Which on a sudden from its snows has shaken
The swoon of ages it shall burst and fill
The world with cleansing fire it must it will 
It may not be restrained and who shall stand
Amid the rocking earthquake steadfast still
But Laon on high Freedom desert land
One summer night in commune with the hope
Thus deeply fed amid those ruins gray
I watched beneath the dark sky starry cope
And ever from that hour upon me lay
The burden of this hope and night or day
In vision or in dream clove to my breast
Among mankind or when gone far away
To the lone shores and mountains 'twas a guest
These hopes found words through which my spirit sought
To weave a bondage of such sympathy
As might create some response to the thought
Which ruled me now and as the vapours lie
Bright in the outspread morning radiancy
So were these thoughts invested with the light
Of language and all bosoms made reply
On which its lustre streamed whene'er it might
Yes many an eye with dizzy tears was dim
And oft I thought to clasp my own heart brother
When I could feel the listener senses swim
And hear his breath its own swift gaspings smother
Even as my words evoked them and another
And yet another I did fondly deem
Felt that we all were sons of one great mother
And the cold truth such sad reverse did seem
Yes oft beside the ruined labyrinth
Which skirts the hoary caves of the green deep
Did Laon and his friend on one gray plinth
Round whose worn base the wild waves hiss and leap
Resting at eve a lofty converse keep
And that this friend was false may now be said
Calmly that he like other men could weep
Tears which are lies and could betray and spread
Then had no great aim recompensed my sorrow
I must have sought dark respite from its stress
In dreamless rest in sleep that sees no morrow 
For to tread life dismaying wilderness
Without one smile to cheer one voice to bless
Amid the snares and scoffs of human kind
Is hard but I betrayed it not nor less
With love that scorned return sought to unbind
With deathless minds which leave where they have passed
A path of light my soul communion knew
Till from that glorious intercourse at last
As from a mine of magic store I drew
Words which were weapons round my heart there grew
The adamantine armour of their power
And from my fancy wings of golden hue
Sprang forth yet not alone from wisdom tower
An orphan with my parents lived whose eyes
Were lodestars of delight which drew me home
When I might wander forth nor did I prize
Aught human thing beneath Heaven mighty dome
Beyond this child so when sad hours were come
And baffled hope like ice still clung to me
Since kin were cold and friends had now become
Heartless and false I turned from all to be
What wert thou then A child most infantine
Yet wandering far beyond that innocent age
In all but its sweet looks and mien divine
Even then methought with the world tyrant rage
A patient warfare thy young heart did wage
When those soft eyes of scarcely conscious thought
Some tale or thine own fancies would engage
To overflow with tears or converse fraught
She moved upon this earth a shape of brightness
A power that from its objects scarcely drew
One impulse of her being in her lightness
Most like some radiant cloud of morning dew
Which wanders through the waste air pathless blue
To nourish some far desert she did seem
Beside me gathering beauty as she grew
Like the bright shade of some immortal dream
As mine own shadow was this child to me
A second self far dearer and more fair
Which clothed in undissolving radiancy
All those steep paths which languor and despair
Of human things had made so dark and bare
But which I trod alone nor till bereft
Of friends and overcome by lonely care
Knew I what solace for that loss was left
Once she was dear now she was all I had
To love in human life this playmate sweet
This child of twelve years old so she was made
My sole associate and her willing feet
Wandered with mine where earth and ocean meet
Beyond the aereal mountains whose vast cells
The unreposing billows ever beat
Through forests wild and old and lawny dells
And warm and light I felt her clasping hand
When twined in mine she followed where I went
Through the lone paths of our immortal land
It had no waste but some memorial lent
Which strung me to my toil some monument
Vital with mind then Cythna by my side
Until the bright and beaming day were spent
Would rest with looks entreating to abide
And soon I could not have refused her thus
For ever day and night we two were ne'er
Parted but when brief sleep divided us
And when the pauses of the lulling air
Of noon beside the sea had made a lair
For her soothed senses in my arms she slept
And I kept watch over her slumbers there
While as the shifting visions over her swept
And in the murmur of her dreams was heard
Sometimes the name of Laon suddenly
She would arise and like the secret bird
Whom sunset wakens fill the shore and sky
With her sweet accents a wild melody
Hymns which my soul had woven to Freedom strong
The source of passion whence they rose to be
Triumphant strains which like a spirit tongue
Her white arms lifted through the shadowy stream
Of her loose hair Oh excellently great
Seemed to me then my purpose the vast theme
Of those impassioned songs when Cythna sate
Amid the calm which rapture doth create
After its tumult her heart vibrating
Her spirit o'er the Ocean floating state
From her deep eyes far wandering on the wing
For before Cythna loved it had my song
Peopled with thoughts the boundless universe
A mighty congregation which were strong
Where'er they trod the darkness to disperse
The cloud of that unutterable curse
Which clings upon mankind all things became
Slaves to my holy and heroic verse
Earth sea and sky the planets life and fame
And this beloved child thus felt the sway
Of my conceptions gathering like a cloud
The very wind on which it rolls away
Hers too were all my thoughts ere yet endowed
With music and with light their fountains flowed
In poesy and her still and earnest face
Pallid with feelings which intensely glowed
Within was turned on mine with speechless grace
In me communion with this purest being
Kindled intenser zeal and made me wise
In knowledge which in hers mine own mind seeing
Left in the human world few mysteries
How without fear of evil or disguise
Was Cythna what a spirit strong and mild
Which death or pain or peril could despise
Yet melt in tenderness what genius wild
New lore was this old age with its gray hair
And wrinkled legends of unworthy things
And icy sneers is nought it cannot dare
To burst the chains which life for ever flings
On the entangled soul aspiring wings
So is it cold and cruel and is made
The careless slave of that dark power which brings
Evil like blight on man who still betrayed
Nor are the strong and the severe to keep
The empire of the world thus Cythna taught
Even in the visions of her eloquent sleep
Unconscious of the power through which she wrought
The woof of such intelligible thought
As from the tranquil strength which cradled lay
In her smile-peopled rest my spirit sought
Why the deceiver and the slave has sway
Within that fairest form the female mind
Untainted by the poison clouds which rest
On the dark world a sacred home did find
But else from the wide earth maternal breast
Victorious Evil which had dispossessed
All native power had those fair children torn
And made them slaves to soothe his vile unrest
And minister to lust its joys forlorn
This misery was but coldly felt till she
Became my only friend who had endued
My purpose with a wider sympathy
Thus Cythna mourned with me the servitude
In which the half of humankind were mewed
Victims of lust and hate the slaves of slaves
She mourned that grace and power were thrown as food
To the hyena lust who among graves
And I still gazing on that glorious child
Even as these thoughts flushed o'er her 'Cythna sweet
Well with the world art thou unreconciled
Never will peace and human nature meet
Till free and equal man and woman greet
Domestic peace and ere this power can make
In human hearts its calm and holy seat
This slavery must be broken' as I spake
She replied earnestly 'It shall be mine
This task mine Laon thou hast much to gain
Nor wilt thou at poor Cythna pride repine
If she should lead a happy female train
To meet thee over the rejoicing plain
When myriads at thy call shall throng around
The Golden City' Then the child did strain
My arm upon her tremulous heart and wound
I smiled and spake not 'Wherefore dost thou smile
At what I say Laon I am not weak
And though my cheek might become pale the while
With thee if thou desirest will I seek
Through their array of banded slaves to wreak
Ruin upon the tyrants I had thought
It was more hard to turn my unpractised cheek
To scorn and shame and this beloved spot
'Whence came I what I am Thou Laon knowest
How a young child should thus undaunted be
Methinks it is a power which thou bestowest
Through which I seek by most resembling thee
So to become most good and great and free
Yet far beyond this Ocean utmost roar
In towers and huts are many like to me
Who could they see thine eyes or feel such lore
'Think'st thou that I shall speak unskilfully
And none will heed me I remember now
How once a slave in tortures doomed to die
Was saved because in accents sweet and low
He sung a song his Judge loved long ago
As he was led to death All shall relent
Who hear me tears as mine have flowed shall flow
Hearts beat as mine now beats with such intent
'Yes I will tread Pride golden palaces
Through Penury roofless huts and squalid cells
Will I descend where'er in abjectness
Woman with some vile slave her tyrant dwells
There with the music of thine own sweet spells
Will disenchant the captives and will pour
For the despairing from the crystal wells
Of thy deep spirit reason mighty lore
'Can man be free if woman be a slave
Chain one who lives and breathes this boundless air
To the corruption of a closed grave
Can they whose mates are beasts condemned to bear
Scorn heavier far than toil or anguish dare
To trample their oppressors in their home
Among their babes thou knowest a curse would wear
The shape of woman hoary Crime would come
'I am a child I would not yet depart
When I go forth alone bearing the lamp
Aloft which thou hast kindled in my heart
Millions of slaves from many a dungeon damp
Shall leap in joy as the benumbing cramp
Of ages leaves their limbs no ill may harm
Thy Cythna ever truth its radiant stamp
Has fixed as an invulnerable charm
'Wait yet awhile for the appointed day 
Thou wilt depart and I with tears shall stand
Watching thy dim sail skirt the ocean gray
Amid the dwellers of this lonely land
I shall remain alone and thy command
Shall then dissolve the world unquiet trance
And multitudinous as the desert sand
Borne on the storm its millions shall advance
'Then like the forests of some pathless mountain
Which from remotest glens two warring winds
Involve in fire which not the loosened fountain
Of broadest floods might quench shall all the kinds
Of evil catch from our uniting minds
The spark which must consume them Cythna then
Will have cast off the impotence that binds
Her childhood now and through the paths of men
'We part O Laon I must dare nor tremble
To meet those looks no more Oh heavy stroke
Sweet brother of my soul can I dissemble
The agony of this thought' As thus she spoke
The gathered sobs her quivering accents broke
And in my arms she hid her beating breast
I remained still for tears sudden she woke
As one awakes from sleep and wildly pressed
'We part to meet again but yon blue waste
Yon desert wide and deep holds no recess
Within whose happy silence thus embraced
We might survive all ills in one caress
Nor doth the grave I fear 'tis passionless 
Nor yon cold vacant Heaven we meet again
Within the minds of men whose lips shall bless
Our memory and whose hopes its light retain
I could not speak though she had ceased for now
The fountains of her feeling swift and deep
Seemed to suspend the tumult of their flow
So we arose and by the starlight steep
Went homeward neither did we speak nor weep
But pale were calm with passion thus subdued
Like evening shades that o'er the mountains creep
We moved towards our home where in this mood
What thoughts had sway o'er Cythna lonely slumber
That night I know not but my own did seem
As if they might ten thousand years outnumber
Of waking life the visions of a dream
Which hid in one dim gulf the troubled stream
Of mind a boundless chaos wild and vast
Whose limits yet were never memory theme
And I lay struggling as its whirlwinds passed
Two hours whose mighty circle did embrace
More time than might make gray the infant world
Rolled thus a weary and tumultuous space
When the third came like mist on breezes curled
From my dim sleep a shadow was unfurled
Methought upon the threshold of a cave
I sate with Cythna drooping briony pearled
With dew from the wild streamlet shattered wave
We lived a day as we were wont to live
But Nature had a robe of glory on
And the bright air o'er every shape did weave
Intenser hues so that the herbless stone
The leafless bough among the leaves alone
Had being clearer than its own could be
And Cythna pure and radiant self was shown
In this strange vision so divine to me
Morn fled noon came evening then night descended
And we prolonged calm talk beneath the sphere
Of the calm moon when suddenly was blended
With our repose a nameless sense of fear
And from the cave behind I seemed to hear
Sounds gathering upwards accents incomplete
And stifled shrieks and now more near and near
A tumult and a rush of thronging feet
The scene was changed and away away away
Through the air and over the sea we sped
And Cythna in my sheltering bosom lay
And the winds bore me through the darkness spread
Around the gaping earth then vomited
Legions of foul and ghastly shapes which hung
Upon my flight and ever as we fled
They plucked at Cythna soon to me then clung
And I lay struggling in the impotence
Of sleep while outward life had burst its bound
Though still deluded strove the tortured sense
To its dire wanderings to adapt the sound
Which in the light of morn was poured around
Our dwelling breathless pale and unaware
I rose and all the cottage crowded found
With armed men whose glittering swords were bare
And ere with rapid lips and gathered brow
I could demand the cause a feeble shriek 
It was a feeble shriek faint far and low
Arrested me my mien grew calm and meek
And grasping a small knife I went to seek
That voice among the crowd 'twas Cythna cry
Beneath most calm resolve did agony wreak
Its whirlwind rage so I passed quietly
I started to behold her for delight
And exultation and a joyance free
Solemn serene and lofty filled the light
Of the calm smile with which she looked on me
So that I feared some brainless ecstasy
Wrought from that bitter woe had wildered her 
'Farewell farewell' she said as I drew nigh
'At first my peace was marred by this strange stir
'Look not so Laon say farewell in hope
These bloody men are but the slaves who bear
Their mistress to her task it was my scope
The slavery where they drag me now to share
And among captives willing chains to wear
Awhile the rest thou knowest return dear friend
Let our first triumph trample the despair
Which would ensnare us now for in the end
These words had fallen on my unheeding ear
Whilst I had watched the motions of the crew
With seeming-careless glance not many were
Around her for their comrades just withdrew
To guard some other victim so I drew
My knife and with one impulse suddenly
All unaware three of their number slew
And grasped a fourth by the throat and with loud cry
What followed then I know not for a stroke
On my raised arm and naked head came down
Filling my eyes with blood When I awoke
I felt that they had bound me in my swoon
And up a rock which overhangs the town
By the steep path were bearing me below
The plain was filled with slaughter overthrown
The vineyards and the harvests and the glow
Upon that rock a mighty column stood
Whose capital seemed sculptured in the sky
Which to the wanderers o'er the solitude
Of distant seas from ages long gone by
Had made a landmark o'er its height to fly
Scarcely the cloud the vulture or the blast
Has power and when the shades of evening lie
On Earth and Ocean its carved summits cast
They bore me to a cavern in the hill
Beneath that column and unbound me there
And one did strip me stark and one did fill
A vessel from the putrid pool one bare
A lighted torch and four with friendless care
Guided my steps the cavern-paths along
Then up a steep and dark and narrow stair
We wound until the torch fiery tongue
They raised me to the platform of the pile
That column dizzy height the grate of brass
Through which they thrust me open stood the while
As to its ponderous and suspended mass
With chains which eat into the flesh alas
With brazen links my naked limbs they bound
The grate as they departed to repass
With horrid clangour fell and the far sound
The noon was calm and bright around that column
The overhanging sky and circling sea
Spread forth in silentness profound and solemn
The darkness of brief frenzy cast on me
So that I knew not my own misery
The islands and the mountains in the day
Like clouds reposed afar and I could see
The town among the woods below that lay
It was so calm that scarce the feathery weed
Sown by some eagle on the topmost stone
Swayed in the air so bright that noon did breed
No shadow in the sky beside mine own 
Mine and the shadow of my chain alone
Below the smoke of roofs involved in flame
Rested like night all else was clearly shown
In that broad glare yet sound to me none came
The peace of madness fled and ah too soon
A ship was lying on the sunny main
Its sails were flagging in the breathless noon 
Its shadow lay beyond that sight again
Waked with its presence in my tranced brain
The stings of a known sorrow keen and cold
I knew that ship bore Cythna o'er the plain
Of waters to her blighting slavery sold
I watched until the shades of evening wrapped
Earth like an exhalation then the bark
Moved for that calm was by the sunset snapped
It moved a speck upon the Ocean dark
Soon the wan stars came forth and I could mark
Its path no more I sought to close mine eyes
But like the balls their lids were stiff and stark
I would have risen but ere that I could rise
I gnawed my brazen chain and sought to sever
Its adamantine links that I might die
O Liberty forgive the base endeavour
Forgive me if reserved for victory
The Champion of thy faith e'er sought to fly 
That starry night with its clear silence sent
Tameless resolve which laughed at misery
Into my soul linked remembrance lent
To breathe to be to hope or to despair
And die I questioned not nor though the Sun
Its shafts of agony kindling through the air
Moved over me nor though in evening dun
Or when the stars their visible courses run
Or morning the wide universe was spread
In dreary calmness round me did I shun
Its presence nor seek refuge with the dead
Two days thus passed I neither raved nor died 
Thirst raged within me like a scorpion nest
Built in mine entrails I had spurned aside
The water-vessel while despair possessed
My thoughts and now no drop remained The uprest
Of the third sun brought hunger but the crust
Which had been left was to my craving breast
Fuel not food I chewed the bitter dust
My brain began to fail when the fourth morn
Burst o'er the golden isles a fearful sleep
Which through the caverns dreary and forlorn
Of the riven soul sent its foul dreams to sweep
With whirlwind swiftness a fall far and deep 
A gulf a void a sense of senselessness 
These things dwelt in me even as shadows keep
Their watch in some dim charnel loneliness
The forms which peopled this terrific trance
I well remember like a choir of devils
Around me they involved a giddy dance
Legions seemed gathering from the misty levels
Of Ocean to supply those ceaseless revels
Foul ceaseless shadows thought could not divide
The actual world from these entangling evils
Which so bemocked themselves that I descried
The sense of day and night of false and true
Was dead within me Yet two visions burst
That darkness one as since that hour I knew
Was not a phantom of the realms accursed
Where then my spirit dwelt but of the first
I know not yet was it a dream or no
But both though not distincter were immersed
In hues which when through memory waste they flow
Methought that grate was lifted and the seven
Who brought me thither four stiff corpses bare
And from the frieze to the four winds of Heaven
Hung them on high by the entangled hair
Swarthy were three the fourth was very fair
As they retired the golden moon upsprung
And eagerly out in the giddy air
Leaning that I might eat I stretched and clung
A woman shape now lank and cold and blue
The dwelling of the many-coloured worm
Hung there the white and hollow cheek I drew
To my dry lips what radiance did inform
Those horny eyes whose was that withered form
Alas alas it seemed that Cythna ghost
Laughed in those looks and that the flesh was warm
Within my teeth a whirlwind keen as frost
Then seemed it that a tameless hurricane
Arose and bore me in its dark career
Beyond the sun beyond the stars that wane
On the verge of formless space it languished there
And dying left a silence lone and drear
More horrible than famine in the deep
The shape of an old man did then appear
Stately and beautiful that dreadful sleep
And when the blinding tears had fallen I saw
That column and those corpses and the moon
And felt the poisonous tooth of hunger gnaw
My vitals I rejoiced as if the boon
Of senseless death would be accorded soon 
When from that stony gloom a voice arose
Solemn and sweet as when low winds attune
The midnight pines the grate did then unclose
He struck my chains and gently spake and smiled
As they were loosened by that Hermit old
Mine eyes were of their madness half beguiled
To answer those kind looks he did enfold
His giant arms around me to uphold
My wretched frame my scorched limbs he wound
In linen moist and balmy and as cold
As dew to drooping leaves the chain with sound
As lifting me it fell What next I heard
Were billows leaping on the harbour-bar
And the shrill sea-wind whose breath idly stirred
My hair I looked abroad and saw a star
Shining beside a sail and distant far
That mountain and its column the known mark
Of those who in the wide deep wandering are
So that I feared some Spirit fell and dark
For now indeed over the salt sea-billow
I sailed yet dared not look upon the shape
Of him who ruled the helm although the pillow
For my light head was hollowed in his lap
And my bare limbs his mantle did enwrap
Fearing it was a fiend at last he bent
O'er me his aged face as if to snap
Those dreadful thoughts the gentle grandsire bent
A soft and healing potion to my lips
At intervals he raised now looked on high
To mark if yet the starry giant dips
His zone in the dim sea now cheeringly
Though he said little did he speak to me
'It is a friend beside thee take good cheer
Poor victim thou art now at liberty
I joyed as those a human tone to hear
A dim and feeble joy whose glimpses oft
Were quenched in a relapse of wildering dreams
Yet still methought we sailed until aloft
The stars of night grew pallid and the beams
Of morn descended on the ocean-streams
And still that aged man so grand and mild
Tended me even as some sick mother seems
To hang in hope over a dying child
And then the night-wind steaming from the shore
Sent odours dying sweet across the sea
And the swift boat the little waves which bore
Were cut by its keen keel though slantingly
Soon I could hear the leaves sigh and could see
The myrtle-blossoms starring the dim grove
As past the pebbly beach the boat did flee
On sidelong wing into a silent cove
The old man took the oars and soon the bark
Smote on the beach beside a tower of stone
It was a crumbling heap whose portal dark
With blooming ivy-trails was overgrown
Upon whose floor the spangling sands were strown
And rarest sea-shells which the eternal flood
Slave to the mother of the months had thrown
Within the walls of that gray tower which stood
When the old man his boat had anchored
He wound me in his arms with tender care
And very few but kindly words he said
And bore me through the tower adown a stair
Whose smooth descent some ceaseless step to wear
For many a year had fallen We came at last
To a small chamber which with mosses rare
Was tapestried where me his soft hands placed
The moon was darting through the lattices
Its yellow light warm as the beams of day 
So warm that to admit the dewy breeze
The old man opened them the moonlight lay
Upon a lake whose waters wove their play
Even to the threshold of that lonely home
Within was seen in the dim wavering ray
The antique sculptured roof and many a tome
The rock-built barrier of the sea was past 
And I was on the margin of a lake
A lonely lake amid the forests vast
And snowy mountains did my spirit wake
From sleep as many-coloured as the snake
That girds eternity in life and truth
Might not my heart its cravings ever slake
Was Cythna then a dream and all my youth
Thus madness came again a milder madness
Which darkened nought but time unquiet flow
With supernatural shades of clinging sadness
That gentle Hermit in my helpless woe
By my sick couch was busy to and fro
Like a strong spirit ministrant of good
When I was healed he led me forth to show
The wonders of his sylvan solitude
He knew his soothing words to weave with skill
From all my madness told like mine own heart
Of Cythna would he question me until
That thrilling name had ceased to make me start
From his familiar lips it was not art
Of wisdom and of justice when he spoke 
When mid soft looks of pity there would dart
A glance as keen as is the lightning stroke
Thus slowly from my brain the darkness rolled
My thoughts their due array did re-assume
Through the enchantments of that Hermit old
Then I bethought me of the glorious doom
Of those who sternly struggle to relume
The lamp of Hope o'er man bewildered lot
And sitting by the waters in the gloom
Of eve to that friend heart I told my thought 
That hoary man had spent his livelong age
In converse with the dead who leave the stamp
Of ever-burning thoughts on many a page
When they are gone into the senseless damp
Of graves his spirit thus became a lamp
Of splendour like to those on which it fed
Through peopled haunts the City and the Camp
Deep thirst for knowledge had his footsteps led
But custom maketh blind and obdurate
The loftiest hearts he had beheld the woe
In which mankind was bound but deemed that fate
Which made them abject would preserve them so
And in such faith some steadfast joy to know
He sought this cell but when fame went abroad
That one in Argolis did undergo
Torture for liberty and that the crowd
And that the multitude was gathering wide 
His spirit leaped within his aged frame
In lonely peace he could no more abide
But to the land on which the victor flame
Had fed my native land the Hermit came
Each heart was there a shield and every tongue
Was as a sword of truth young Laon name
Rallied their secret hopes though tyrants sung
He came to the lone column on the rock
And with his sweet and mighty eloquence
The hearts of those who watched it did unlock
And made them melt in tears of penitence
They gave him entrance free to bear me thence
'Since this' the old man said 'seven years are spent
While slowly truth on thy benighted sense
Has crept the hope which wildered it has lent
'Yes from the records of my youthful state
And from the lore of bards and sages old
From whatsoe'er my wakened thoughts create
Out of the hopes of thine aspirings bold
Have I collected language to unfold
Truth to my countrymen from shore to shore
Doctrines of human power my words have told
They have been heard and men aspire to more
'In secret chambers parents read and weep
My writings to their babes no longer blind
And young men gather when their tyrants sleep
And vows of faith each to the other bind
And marriageable maidens who have pined
With love till life seemed melting through their look
A warmer zeal a nobler hope now find
And every bosom thus is rapt and shook
'The tyrants of the Golden City tremble
At voices which are heard about the streets
The ministers of fraud can scarce dissemble
The lies of their own heart but when one meets
Another at the shrine he inly weets
Though he says nothing that the truth is known
Murderers are pale upon the judgement-seats
And gold grows vile even to the wealthy crone
'Kind thoughts and mighty hopes and gentle deeds
Abound for fearless love and the pure law
Of mild equality and peace succeeds
To faiths which long have held the world in awe
Bloody and false and cold as whirlpools draw
All wrecks of Ocean to their chasm the sway
Of thy strong genius Laon which foresaw
This hope compels all spirits to obey
'For I have been thy passive instrument' 
As thus the old man spake his countenance
Gleamed on me like a spirit 'thou hast lent
To me to all the power to advance
Towards this unforeseen deliverance
From our ancestral chains ay thou didst rear
That lamp of hope on high which time nor chance
Nor change may not extinguish and my share
'But I alas am both unknown and old
And though the woof of wisdom I know well
To dye in hues of language I am cold
In seeming and the hopes which inly dwell
My manners note that I did long repel
But Laon name to the tumultuous throng
Were like the star whose beams the waves compel
And tempests and his soul-subduing tongue
'Perchance blood need not flow if thou at length
Wouldst rise perchance the very slaves would spare
Their brethren and themselves great is the strength
Of words for lately did a maiden fair
Who from her childhood has been taught to bear
The Tyrant heaviest yoke arise and make
Her sex the law of truth and freedom hear
And with these quiet words for thine own sake
'All hearts that even the torturer who had bound
Her meek calm frame ere it was yet impaled
Loosened her weeping then nor could be found
One human hand to harm her unassailed
Therefore she walks through the great City veiled
In virtue adamantine eloquence
'Gainst scorn and death and pain thus trebly mailed
And blending in the smiles of that defence
'The wild-eyed women throng around her path
From their luxurious dungeons from the dust
Of meaner thralls from the oppressor wrath
Or the caresses of his sated lust
They congregate in her they put their trust
The tyrants send their armed slaves to quell
Her power they even like a thunder-gust
Caught by some forest bend beneath the spell
'Thus she doth equal laws and justice teach
To woman outraged and polluted long
Gathering the sweetest fruit in human reach
For those fair hands now free while armed wrong
Trembles before her look though it be strong
Thousands thus dwell beside her virgins bright
And matrons with their babes a stately throng
Lovers renew the vows which they did plight
'And homeless orphans find a home near her
And those poor victims of the proud no less
Fair wrecks on whom the smiling world with stir
Thrusts the redemption of its wickedness 
In squalid huts and in its palaces
Sits Lust alone while o'er the land is borne
Her voice whose awful sweetness doth repress
All evil and her foes relenting turn
'So in the populous City a young maiden
Has baffled Havoc of the prey which he
Marks as his own whene'er with chains o'erladen
Men make them arms to hurl down tyranny 
False arbiter between the bound and free
And o'er the land in hamlets and in towns
The multitudes collect tumultuously
And throng in arms but tyranny disowns
'Blood soon although unwillingly to shed
The free cannot forbear the Queen of Slaves
The hoodwinked Angel of the blind and dead
Custom with iron mace points to the graves
Where her own standard desolately waves
Over the dust of Prophets and of Kings
Many yet stand in her array she paves
Her path with human hearts and o'er it flings
'There is a plain beneath the City wall
Bounded by misty mountains wide and vast
Millions there lift at Freedom thrilling call
Ten thousand standards wide they load the blast
Which bears one sound of many voices past
And startles on his throne their sceptred foe
He sits amid his idle pomp aghast
And that his power hath passed away doth know 
'The tyrant guards resistance yet maintain
Fearless and fierce and hard as beasts of blood
They stand a speck amid the peopled plain
Carnage and ruin have been made their food
From infancy ill has become their good
And for its hateful sake their will has wove
The chains which eat their hearts The multitude
Surrounding them with words of human love
'Over the land is felt a sudden pause
As night and day those ruthless bands around
The watch of love is kept a trance which awes
The thoughts of men with hope as when the sound
Of whirlwind whose fierce blasts the waves and clouds confound
Dies suddenly the mariner in fear
Feels silence sink upon his heart thus bound
The conquerors pause and oh may freemen ne'er
'If blood be shed 'tis but a change and choice
Of bonds from slavery to cowardice
A wretched fall Uplift thy charmed voice
Pour on those evil men the love that lies
Hovering within those spirit-soothing eyes 
Arise my friend farewell' As thus he spake
From the green earth lightly I did arise
As one out of dim dreams that doth awake
I saw my countenance reflected there 
And then my youth fell on me like a wind
Descending on still waters my thin hair
Was prematurely gray my face was lined
With channels such as suffering leaves behind
Not age my brow was pale but in my cheek
And lips a flush of gnawing fire did find
Their food and dwelling though mine eyes might speak
And though their lustre now was spent and faded
Yet in my hollow looks and withered mien
The likeness of a shape for which was braided
The brightest woof of genius still was seen 
One who methought had gone from the world scene
And left it vacant 'twas her lover face 
It might resemble her it once had been
The mirror of her thoughts and still the grace
What then was I She slumbered with the dead
Glory and joy and peace had come and gone
Doth the cloud perish when the beams are fled
Which steeped its skirts in gold or dark and lone
Doth it not through the paths of night unknown
On outspread wings of its own wind upborne
Pour rain upon the earth The stars are shown
When the cold moon sharpens her silver horn
Strengthened in heart yet sad that aged man
I left with interchange of looks and tears
And lingering speech and to the Camp began
My war O'er many a mountain-chain which rears
Its hundred crests aloft my spirit bears
My frame o'er many a dale and many a moor
And gaily now meseems serene earth wears
The blosmy spring star-bright investiture
My powers revived within me and I went
As one whom winds waft o'er the bending grass
Through many a vale of that broad continent
At night when I reposed fair dreams did pass
Before my pillow my own Cythna was
Not like a child of death among them ever
When I arose from rest a woful mass
That gentlest sleep seemed from my life to sever
Aye as I went that maiden who had reared
The torch of Truth afar of whose high deeds
The Hermit in his pilgrimage had heard
Haunted my thoughts Ah Hope its sickness feeds
With whatsoe'er it finds or flowers or weeds
Could she be Cythna Was that corpse a shade
Such as self-torturing thought from madness breeds
Why was this hope not torture Yet it made
Over the utmost hill at length I sped
A snowy steep the moon was hanging low
Over the Asian mountains and outspread
The plain the City and the Camp below
Skirted the midnight Ocean glimmering flow
The City moonlit spires and myriad lamps
Like stars in a sublunar sky did glow
And fires blazed far amid the scattered camps
All slept but those in watchful arms who stood
And those who sate tending the beacon light
And the few sounds from that vast multitude
Made silence more profound Oh what a might
Of human thought was cradled in that night
How many hearts impenetrably veiled
Beat underneath its shade what secret fight
Evil and good in woven passions mailed
And now the Power of Good held victory
So through the labyrinth of many a tent
Among the silent millions who did lie
In innocent sleep exultingly I went
The moon had left Heaven desert now but lent
From eastern morn the first faint lustre showed
An armed youth over his spear he bent
His downward face 'A friend' I cried aloud
I sate beside him while the morning beam
Crept slowly over Heaven and talked with him
Of those immortal hopes a glorious theme
Which led us forth until the stars grew dim
And all the while methought his voice did swim
As if it drowned in remembrance were
Of thoughts which make the moist eyes overbrim
At last when daylight 'gan to fill the air
Then suddenly I knew it was the youth
In whom its earliest hopes my spirit found
But envious tongues had stained his spotless truth
And thoughtless pride his love in silence bound
And shame and sorrow mine in toils had wound
Whilst he was innocent and I deluded
The truth now came upon me on the ground
Tears of repenting joy which fast intruded
Thus while with rapid lips and earnest eyes
We talked a sound of sweeping conflict spread
As from the earth did suddenly arise
From every tent roused by that clamour dread
Our bands outsprung and seized their arms we sped
Towards the sound our tribes were gathering far
Those sanguine slaves amid ten thousand dead
Stabbed in their sleep trampled in treacherous war
Like rabid snakes that sting some gentle child
Who brings them food when winter false and fair
Allures them forth with its cold smiles so wild
They rage among the camp they overbear
The patriot hosts confusion then despair
Descends like night when 'Laon' one did cry
Like a bright ghost from Heaven that shout did scare
The slaves and widening through the vaulted sky
In sudden panic those false murderers fled
Like insect tribes before the northern gale
But swifter still our hosts encompassed
Their shattered ranks and in a craggy vale
Where even their fierce despair might nought avail
Hemmed them around and then revenge and fear
Made the high virtue of the patriots fail
One pointed on his foe the mortal spear 
The spear transfixed my arm that was uplifted
In swift expostulation and the blood
Gushed round its point I smiled and 'Oh thou gifted
With eloquence which shall not be withstood
Flow thus' I cried in joy 'thou vital flood
Until my heart be dry ere thus the cause
For which thou wert aught worthy be subdued 
Ah ye are pale ye weep your passions pause 
'Soldiers our brethren and our friends are slain
Ye murdered them I think as they did sleep
Alas what have ye done the slightest pain
Which ye might suffer there were eyes to weep
But ye have quenched them there were smiles to steep
Your hearts in balm but they are lost in woe
And those whom love did set his watch to keep
Around your tents truth freedom to bestow
'Oh wherefore should ill ever flow from ill
And pain still keener pain for ever breed
We all are brethren even the slaves who kill
For hire are men and to avenge misdeed
On the misdoer doth but Misery feed
With her own broken heart O Earth O Heaven
And thou dread Nature which to every deed
And all that lives or is to be hath given
'Join then your hands and hearts and let the past
Be as a grave which gives not up its dead
To evil thoughts' A film then overcast
My sense with dimness for the wound which bled
Freshly swift shadows o'er mine eyes had shed
When I awoke I lay mid friends and foes
And earnest countenances on me shed
The light of questioning looks whilst one did close
And one whose spear had pierced me leaned beside
With quivering lips and humid eyes and all
Seemed like some brothers on a journey wide
Gone forth whom now strange meeting did befall
In a strange land round one whom they might call
Their friend their chief their father for assay
Of peril which had saved them from the thrall
Of death now suffering Thus the vast array
Lifting the thunder of their acclamation
Towards the City then the multitude
And I among them went in joy a nation
Made free by love a mighty brotherhood
Linked by a jealous interchange of good
A glorious pageant more magnificent
Than kingly slaves arrayed in gold and blood
When they return from carnage and are sent
Afar the city-walls were thronged on high
And myriads on each giddy turret clung
And to each spire far lessening in the sky
Bright pennons on the idle winds were hung
As we approached a shout of joyance sprung
At once from all the crowd as if the vast
And peopled Earth its boundless skies among
The sudden clamour of delight had cast
Our armies through the City hundred gates
Were poured like brooks which to the rocky lair
Of some deep lake whose silence them awaits
Throng from the mountains when the storms are there
And as we passed through the calm sunny air
A thousand flower-inwoven crowns were shed
The token flowers of truth and freedom fair
And fairest hands bound them on many a head
I trod as one tranced in some rapturous vision
Those bloody bands so lately reconciled
Were ever as they went by the contrition
Of anger turned to love from ill beguiled
And every one on them more gently smiled
Because they had done evil the sweet awe
Of such mild looks made their own hearts grow mild
And did with soft attraction ever draw
And they and all in one loud symphony
My name with Liberty commingling lifted
'The friend and the preserver of the free
The parent of this joy' and fair eyes gifted
With feelings caught from one who had uplifted
The light of a great spirit round me shone
And all the shapes of this grand scenery shifted
Like restless clouds before the steadfast sun 
Laone was the name her love had chosen
For she was nameless and her birth none knew
Where was Laone now The words were frozen
Within my lips with fear but to subdue
Such dreadful hope to my great task was due
And when at length one brought reply that she
To-morrow would appear I then withdrew
To judge what need for that great throng might be
Yet need was none for rest or food to care
Even though that multitude was passing great
Since each one for the other did prepare
All kindly succour Therefore to the gate
Of the Imperial House now desolate
I passed and there was found aghast alone
The fallen Tyrant Silently he sate
Upon the footstool of his golden throne
Alone but for one child who led before him
A graceful dance the only living thing
Of all the crowd which thither to adore him
Flocked yesterday who solace sought to bring
In his abandonment She knew the King
Had praised her dance of yore and now she wove
Its circles aye weeping and murmuring
Mid her sad task of unregarded love
She fled to him and wildly clasped his feet
When human steps were heard he moved nor spoke
Nor changed his hue nor raised his looks to meet
The gaze of strangers our loud entrance woke
The echoes of the hall which circling broke
The calm of its recesses like a tomb
Its sculptured walls vacantly to the stroke
Of footfalls answered and the twilight gloom
The little child stood up when we came nigh
Her lips and cheeks seemed very pale and wan
But on her forehead and within her eye
Lay beauty which makes hearts that feed thereon
Sick with excess of sweetness on the throne
She leaned the King with gathered brow and lips
Wreathed by long scorn did inly sneer and frown
With hue like that when some great painter dips
She stood beside him like a rainbow braided
Within some storm when scarce its shadows vast
From the blue paths of the swift sun have faded
A sweet and solemn smile like Cythna cast
One moment light which made my heart beat fast
O'er that child parted lips a gleam of bliss
A shade of vanished days as the tears passed
Which wrapped it even as with a father kiss
The sceptred wretch then from that solitude
I drew and of his change compassionate
With words of sadness soothed his rugged mood
But he while pride and fear held deep debate
With sullen guile of ill-dissembled hate
Glared on me as a toothless snake might glare
Pity not scorn I felt though desolate
The desolator now and unaware
I led him forth from that which now might seem
A gorgeous grave through portals sculptured deep
With imagery beautiful as dream
We went and left the shades which tend on sleep
Over its unregarded gold to keep
Their silent watch The child trod faintingly
And as she went the tears which she did weep
Glanced in the starlight wildered seemed she
At last the tyrant cried 'She hungers slave
Stab her or give her bread' It was a tone
Such as sick fancies in a new-made grave
Might hear I trembled for the truth was known
He with this child had thus been left alone
And neither had gone forth for food but he
In mingled pride and awe cowered near his throne
And she a nursling of captivity
And he was troubled at a charm withdrawn
Thus suddenly that sceptres ruled no more 
That even from gold the dreadful strength was gone
Which once made all things subject to its power 
Such wonder seized him as if hour by hour
The past had come again and the swift fall
Of one so great and terrible of yore
To desolateness in the hearts of all
A mighty crowd such as the wide land pours
Once in a thousand years now gathered round
The fallen tyrant like the rush of showers
Of hail in spring pattering along the ground
Their many footsteps fell else came no sound
From the wide multitude that lonely man
Then knew the burden of his change and found
Concealing in the dust his visage wan
And he was faint withal I sate beside him
Upon the earth and took that child so fair
From his weak arms that ill might none betide him
Or her when food was brought to them her share
To his averted lips the child did bear
But when she saw he had enough she ate
And wept the while the lonely man despair
Hunger then overcame and of his state
Slowly the silence of the multitudes
Passed as when far is heard in some lone dell
The gathering of a wind among the woods 
'And he is fallen' they cry 'he who did dwell
Like famine or the plague or aught more fell
Among our homes is fallen the murderer
Who slaked his thirsting soul as from a well
Of blood and tears with ruin he is here
Then was heard 'He who judged let him be brought
To judgement blood for blood cries from the soil
On which his crimes have deep pollution wrought
Shall Othman only unavenged despoil
Shall they who by the stress of grinding toil
Wrest from the unwilling earth his luxuries
Perish for crime while his foul blood may boil
Or creep within his veins at will Arise
'What do ye seek what fear ye' then I cried
Suddenly starting forth 'that ye should shed
The blood of Othman if your hearts are tried
In the true love of freedom cease to dread
This one poor lonely man beneath Heaven spread
In purest light above us all through earth 
Maternal earth who doth her sweet smiles shed
For all let him go free until the worth
'What call ye justice Is there one who ne'er
In secret thought has wished another ill 
Are ye all pure Let those stand forth who hear
And tremble not Shall they insult and kill
If such they be their mild eyes can they fill
With the false anger of the hypocrite
Alas such were not pure the chastened will
Of virtue sees that justice is the light
The murmur of the people slowly dying
Paused as I spake then those who near me were
Cast gentle looks where the lone man was lying
Shrouding his head which now that infant fair
Clasped on her lap in silence through the air
Sobs were then heard and many kissed my feet
In pity madness and to the despair
Of him whom late they cursed a solace sweet
Then to a home for his repose assigned
Accompanied by the still throng he went
In silence where to soothe his rankling mind
Some likeness of his ancient state was lent
And if his heart could have been innocent
As those who pardoned him he might have ended
His days in peace but his straight lips were bent
Men said into a smile which guile portended
'Twas midnight now the eve of that great day
Whereon the many nations at whose call
The chains of earth like mist melted away
Decreed to hold a sacred Festival
A rite to attest the equality of all
Who live So to their homes to dream or wake
All went The sleepless silence did recall
Laone to my thoughts with hopes that make
The dawn flowed forth and from its purple fountains
I drank those hopes which make the spirit quail
As to the plain between the misty mountains
And the great City with a countenance pale
I went it was a sight which might avail
To make men weep exulting tears for whom
Now first from human power the reverend veil
Was torn to see Earth from her general womb
To see far glancing in the misty morning
The signs of that innumerable host
To hear one sound of many made the warning
Of Earth to Heaven from its free children tossed
While the eternal hills and the sea lost
In wavering light and starring the blue sky
The city myriad spires of gold almost
With human joy made mute society 
To see like some vast island from the Ocean
The Altar of the Federation rear
Its pile i' the midst a work which the devotion
Of millions in one night created there
Sudden as when the moonrise makes appear
Strange clouds in the east a marble pyramid
Distinct with steps that mighty shape did wear
The light of genius its still shadow hid
To hear the restless multitudes for ever
Around the base of that great Altar flow
As on some mountain-islet burst and shiver
Atlantic waves and solemnly and slow
As the wind bore that tumult to and fro
To feel the dreamlike music which did swim
Like beams through floating clouds on waves below
Falling in pauses from that Altar dim
To hear to see to live was on that morn
Lethean joy so that all those assembled
Cast off their memories of the past outworn
Two only bosoms with their own life trembled
And mine was one and we had both dissembled
So with a beating heart I went and one
Who having much covets yet more resembled
A lost and dear possession which not won
To the great Pyramid I came its stair
With female choirs was thronged the loveliest
Among the free grouped with its sculptures rare
As I approached the morning golden mist
Which now the wonder-stricken breezes kissed
With their cold lips fled and the summit shone
Like Athos seen from Samothracia dressed
In earliest light by vintagers and one
A Form most like the imagined habitant
Of silver exhalations sprung from dawn
By winds which feed on sunrise woven to enchant
The faiths of men all mortal eyes were drawn
As famished mariners through strange seas gone
Gaze on a burning watch-tower by the light
Of those divinest lineaments alone
With thoughts which none could share from that fair sight
And neither did I hear the acclamations
Which from brief silence bursting filled the air
With her strange name and mine from all the nations
Which we they said in strength had gathered there
From the sleep of bondage nor the vision fair
Of that bright pageantry beheld but blind
And silent as a breathing corpse did fare
Leaning upon my friend till like a wind
Like music of some minstrel heavenly gifted
To one whom fiends enthral this voice to me
Scarce did I wish her veil to be uplifted
I was so calm and joyous I could see
The platform where we stood the statues three
Which kept their marble watch on that high shrine
The multitudes the mountains and the sea
As when eclipse hath passed things sudden shine
At first Laone spoke most tremulously
But soon her voice the calmness which it shed
Gathered and 'Thou art whom I sought to see
And thou art our first votary here' she said
'I had a dear friend once but he is dead 
And of all those on the wide earth who breathe
Thou dost resemble him alone I spread
This veil between us two that thou beneath
'For this wilt thou not henceforth pardon me
Yes but those joys which silence well requite
Forbid reply why men have chosen me
To be the Priestess of this holiest rite
I scarcely know but that the floods of light
Which flow over the world have borne me hither
To meet thee long most dear and now unite
Thine hand with mine and may all comfort wither
'If our own will as others' law we bind
If the foul worship trampled here we fear
If as ourselves we cease to love our kind' 
She paused and pointed upwards sculptured there
Three shapes around her ivory throne appear
One was a Giant like a child asleep
On a loose rock whose grasp crushed as it were
In dream sceptres and crowns and one did keep
A Woman sitting on the sculptured disk
Of the broad earth and feeding from one breast
A human babe and a young basilisk
Her looks were sweet as Heaven when loveliest
In Autumn eves The third Image was dressed
In white wings swift as clouds in winter skies
Beneath his feet 'mongst ghastliest forms repressed
Lay Faith an obscene worm who sought to rise
Beside that Image then I sate while she
Stood mid the throngs which ever ebbed and flowed
Like light amid the shadows of the sea
Cast from one cloudless star and on the crowd
That touch which none who feels forgets bestowed
And whilst the sun returned the steadfast gaze
Of the great Image as o'er Heaven it glode
That rite had place it ceased when sunset blaze
Burned o'er the isles All stood in joy and deep amaze 
 When in the silence of all spirits there
Laone voice was felt and through the air
'Calm art thou as yon sunset swift and strong
As new-fledged Eagles beautiful and young
That float among the blinding beams of morning
And underneath thy feet writhe Faith and Folly
Custom and Hell and mortal Melancholy 
Hark the Earth starts to hear the mighty warning
Ere she had ceased the mists of night entwining
Their dim woof floated o'er the infinite throng
She like a spirit through the darkness shining
In tones whose sweetness silence did prolong
As if to lingering winds they did belong
Poured forth her inmost soul a passionate speech
With wild and thrilling pauses woven among
Which whoso heard was mute for it could teach
Her voice was as a mountain stream which sweeps
The withered leaves of Autumn to the lake
And in some deep and narrow bay then sleeps
In the shadow of the shores as dead leaves wake
Under the wave in flowers and herbs which make
Those green depths beautiful when skies are blue
The multitude so moveless did partake
Such living change and kindling murmurs flew
Over the plain the throngs were scattered then
In groups around the fires which from the sea
Even to the gorge of the first mountain-glen
Blazed wide and far the banquet of the free
Was spread beneath many a dark cypress-tree
Beneath whose spires which swayed in the red flame
Reclining as they ate of Liberty
And Hope and Justice and Laone name
Their feast was such as Earth the general mother
Pours from her fairest bosom when she smiles
In the embrace of Autumn to each other
As when some parent fondly reconciles
Her warring children she their wrath beguiles
With her own sustenance they relenting weep
Such was this Festival which from their isles
And continents and winds and oceans deep
Might share in peace and innocence for gore
Or poison none this festal did pollute
But piled on high an overflowing store
Of pomegranates and citrons fairest fruit
Melons and dates and figs and many a root
Sweet and sustaining and bright grapes ere yet
Accursed fire their mild juice could transmute
Into a mortal bane and brown corn set
Laone had descended from the shrine
And every deepest look and holiest mind
Fed on her form though now those tones divine
Were silent as she passed she did unwind
Her veil as with the crowds of her own kind
She mixed some impulse made my heart refrain
From seeking her that night so I reclined
Amidst a group where on the utmost plain
And joyous was our feast pathetic talk
And wit and harmony of choral strains
While far Orion o'er the waves did walk
That flow among the isles held us in chains
Of sweet captivity which none disdains
Who feels but when his zone grew dim in mist
Which clothes the Ocean bosom o'er the plains
The multitudes went homeward to their rest
Beside the dimness of the glimmering sea
Weaving swift language from impassioned themes
With that dear friend I lingered who to me
So late had been restored beneath the gleams
Of the silver stars and ever in soft dreams
Of future love and peace sweet converse lapped
Our willing fancies till the pallid beams
Of the last watchfire fell and darkness wrapped
And till we came even to the City wall
And the great gate then none knew whence or why
Disquiet on the multitudes did fall
And first one pale and breathless passed us by
And stared and spoke not then with piercing cry
A troop of wild-eyed women by the shrieks
Of their own terror driven tumultuously
Hither and thither hurrying with pale cheeks
Then rallying cries of treason and of danger
Resounded and 'They come to arms to arms
The Tyrant is amongst us and the stranger
Comes to enslave us in his name to arms
In vain for Panic the pale fiend who charms
Strength to forswear her right those millions swept
Like waves before the tempest these alarms
Came to me as to know their cause I lept
For to the North I saw the town on fire
And its red light made morning pallid now
Which burst over wide Asia louder higher
The yells of victory and the screams of woe
I heard approach and saw the throng below
Stream through the gates like foam-wrought waterfalls
Fed from a thousand storms the fearful glow
Of bombs flares overhead at intervals
And now the horsemen come and all was done
Swifter than I have spoken I beheld
Their red swords flash in the unrisen sun
I rushed among the rout to have repelled
That miserable flight one moment quelled
By voice and looks and eloquent despair
As if reproach from their own hearts withheld
Their steps they stood but soon came pouring there
I strove as drifted on some cataract
By irresistible streams some wretch might strive
Who hears its fatal roar the files compact
Whelmed me and from the gate availed to drive
With quickening impulse as each bolt did rive
Their ranks with bloodier chasm into the plain
Disgorged at length the dead and the alive
In one dread mass were parted and the stain
For now the despot bloodhounds with their prey
Unarmed and unaware were gorging deep
Their gluttony of death the loose array
Of horsemen o'er the wide fields murdering sweep
And with loud laughter for their tyrant reap
A harvest sown with other hopes the while
Far overhead ships from Propontis keep
A killing rain of fire when the waves smile
Thus sudden unexpected feast was spread
For the carrion-fowls of Heaven I saw the sight 
I moved I lived as o'er the heaps of dead
Whose stony eyes glared in the morning light
I trod to me there came no thought of flight
But with loud cries of scorn which whoso heard
That dreaded death felt in his veins the might
Of virtuous shame return the crowd I stirred
A band of brothers gathering round me made
Although unarmed a steadfast front and still
Retreating with stern looks beneath the shade
Of gathered eyebrows did the victors fill
With doubt even in success deliberate will
Inspired our growing troop not overthrown
It gained the shelter of a grassy hill
And ever still our comrades were hewn down
Immovably we stood in joy I found
Beside me then firm as a giant pine
Among the mountain-vapours driven around
The old man whom I loved his eyes divine
With a mild look of courage answered mine
And my young friend was near and ardently
His hand grasped mine a moment now the line
Of war extended to our rallying cry
For ever while the sun was climbing Heaven
The horseman hewed our unarmed myriads down
Safely though when by thirst of carnage driven
Too near those slaves were swiftly overthrown
By hundreds leaping on them flesh and bone
Soon made our ghastly ramparts then the shaft
Of the artillery from the sea was thrown
More fast and fiery and the conquerors laughed
For on one side alone the hill gave shelter
So vast that phalanx of unconquered men
And there the living in the blood did welter
Of the dead and dying which in that green glen
Like stifled torrents made a plashy fen
Under the feet thus was the butchery waged
While the sun clomb Heaven eastern steep but when
It 'gan to sink a fiercer combat raged
Within a cave upon the hill were found
A bundle of rude pikes the instrument
Of those who war but on their native ground
For natural rights a shout of joyance sent
Even from our hearts the wide air pierced and rent
As those few arms the bravest and the best
Seized and each sixth thus armed did now present
A line which covered and sustained the rest
That onset turned the foes to flight almost
But soon they saw their present strength and knew
That coming night would to our resolute host
Bring victory so dismounting close they drew
Their glittering files and then the combat grew
Unequal but most horrible and ever
Our myriads whom the swift bolt overthrew
Or the red sword failed like a mountain river
Sorrow and shame to see with their own kind
Our human brethren mix like beasts of blood
To mutual ruin armed by one behind
Who sits and scoffs That friend so mild and good
Who like its shadow near my youth had stood
Was stabbed my old preserver hoary hair
With the flesh clinging to its roots was strewed
Under my feet I lost all sense or care
The battle became ghastlier in the midst
I paused and saw how ugly and how fell
O Hate thou art even when thy life thou shedd'st
For love The ground in many a little dell
Was broken up and down whose steeps befell
Alternate victory and defeat and there
The combatants with rage most horrible
Strove and their eyes started with cracking stare
Flaccid and foamy like a mad dog hanging
Want and Moon-madness and the pest swift Bane
When its shafts smite while yet its bow is twanging 
Have each their mark and sign some ghastly stain
And this was thine O War of hate and pain
Thou loathed slave I saw all shapes of death
And ministered to many o'er the plain
While carnage in the sunbeam warmth did seethe
The few who yet survived resolute and firm
Around me fought At the decline of day
Winding above the mountain snowy term
New banners shone they quivered in the ray
Of the sun unseen orb ere night the array
Of fresh troops hemmed us in of those brave bands
I soon survived alone and now I lay
Vanquished and faint the grasp of bloody hands
When on my foes a sudden terror came
And they fled scattering lo with reinless speed
A black Tartarian horse of giant frame
Comes trampling over the dead the living bleed
Beneath the hoofs of that tremendous steed
On which like to an Angel robed in white
Sate one waving a sword the hosts recede
And fly as through their ranks with awful might
And its path made a solitude I rose
And marked its coming it relaxed its course
As it approached me and the wind that flows
Through night bore accents to mine ear whose force
Might create smiles in death the Tartar horse
Paused and I saw the shape its might which swayed
And heard her musical pants like the sweet source
Of waters in the desert as she said
Then 'Away away' she cried and stretched her sword
As 'twere a scourge over the courser head
And lightly shook the reins We spake no word
But like the vapour of the tempest fled
Over the plain her dark hair was dispread
Like the pine locks upon the lingering blast
Over mine eyes its shadowy strings it spread
Fitfully and the hills and streams fled fast
And his hoofs ground the rocks to fire and dust
His strong sides made the torrents rise in spray
And turbulence as of a whirlwind gust
Surrounded us and still away away
Through the desert night we sped while she alway
Gazed on a mountain which we neared whose crest
Crowned with a marble ruin in the ray
Of the obscure stars gleamed its rugged breast
A rocky hill which overhung the Ocean 
From that lone ruin when the steed that panted
Paused might be heard the murmur of the motion
Of waters as in spots for ever haunted
By the choicest winds of Heaven which are enchanted
To music by the wand of Solitude
That wizard wild and the far tents implanted
Upon the plain be seen by those who stood
One moment these were heard and seen another
Passed and the two who stood beneath that night
Each only heard or saw or felt the other
As from the lofty steed she did alight
Cythna for from the eyes whose deepest light
Of love and sadness made my lips feel pale
With influence strange of mournfullest delight
My own sweet Cythna looked with joy did quail
And for a space in my embrace she rested
Her head on my unquiet heart reposing
While my faint arms her languid frame invested
At length she looked on me and half unclosing
Her tremulous lips said 'Friend thy bands were losing
The battle as I stood before the King
In bonds I burst them then and swiftly choosing
The time did seize a Tartar sword and spring
'Have thou and I been borne beyond pursuer
And we are here' Then turning to the steed
She pressed the white moon on his front with pure
And rose-like lips and many a fragrant weed
From the green ruin plucked that he might feed 
But I to a stone seat that Maiden led
And kissing her fair eyes said 'Thou hast need
Of rest' and I heaped up the courser bed
Within that ruin where a shattered portal
Looks to the eastern stars abandoned now
By man to be the home of things immortal
Memories like awful ghosts which come and go
And must inherit all he builds below
When he is gone a hall stood o'er whose roof
Fair clinging weeds with ivy pale did grow
Clasping its gray rents with a verdurous woof
The autumnal winds as if spell-bound had made
A natural couch of leaves in that recess
Which seasons none disturbed but in the shade
Of flowering parasites did Spring love to dress
With their sweet blooms the wintry loneliness
Of those dead leaves shedding their stars whene'er
The wandering wind her nurslings might caress
Whose intertwining fingers ever there
We know not where we go or what sweet dream
May pilot us through caverns strange and fair
Of far and pathless passion while the stream
Of life our bark doth on its whirlpools bear
Spreading swift wings as sails to the dim air
Nor should we seek to know so the devotion
Of love and gentle thoughts be heard still there
Louder and louder from the utmost Ocean
To the pure all things are pure Oblivion wrapped
Our spirits and the fearful overthrow
Of public hope was from our being snapped
Though linked years had bound it there for now
A power a thirst a knowledge which below
All thoughts like light beyond the atmosphere
Clothing its clouds with grace doth ever flow
Came on us as we sate in silence there
In silence which doth follow talk that causes
The baffled heart to speak with sighs and tears
When wildering passion swalloweth up the pauses
Of inexpressive speech the youthful years
Which we together passed their hopes and fears
The blood itself which ran within our frames
That likeness of the features which endears
The thoughts expressed by them our very names
Had found a voice and ere that voice did pass
The night grew damp and dim and through a rent
Of the ruin where we sate from the morass
A wandering Meteor by some wild wind sent
Hung high in the green dome to which it lent
A faint and pallid lustre while the song
Of blasts in which its blue hair quivering bent
Strewed strangest sounds the moving leaves among
The Meteor showed the leaves on which we sate
And Cythna glowing arms and the thick ties
Of her soft hair which bent with gathered weight
My neck near hers her dark and deepening eyes
Which as twin phantoms of one star that lies
O'er a dim well move though the star reposes
Swam in our mute and liquid ecstasies
Her marble brow and eager lips like roses
The Meteor to its far morass returned
The beating of our veins one interval
Made still and then I felt the blood that burned
Within her frame mingle with mine and fall
Around my heart like fire and over all
A mist was spread the sickness of a deep
And speechless swoon of joy as might befall
Two disunited spirits when they leap
Was it one moment that confounded thus
All thought all sense all feeling into one
Unutterable power which shielded us
Even from our own cold looks when we had gone
Into a wide and wild oblivion
Of tumult and of tenderness or now
Had ages such as make the moon and sun
The seasons and mankind their changes know
I know not What are kisses whose fire clasps
The failing heart in languishment or limb
Twined within limb or the quick dying gasps
Of the life meeting when the faint eyes swim
Through tears of a wide mist boundless and dim
In one caress What is the strong control
Which leads the heart that dizzy steep to climb
Where far over the world those vapours roll
It is the shadow which doth float unseen
But not unfelt o'er blind mortality
Whose divine darkness fled not from that green
And lone recess where lapped in peace did lie
Our linked frames till from the changing sky
That night and still another day had fled
And then I saw and felt The moon was high
And clouds as of a coming storm were spread
Cythna sweet lips seemed lurid in the moon
Her fairest limbs with the night wind were chill
And her dark tresses were all loosely strewn
O'er her pale bosom all within was still
And the sweet peace of joy did almost fill
The depth of her unfathomable look 
And we sate calmly though that rocky hill
The waves contending in its caverns strook
There we unheeding sate in the communion
Of interchanged vows which with a rite
Of faith most sweet and sacred stamped our union 
Few were the living hearts which could unite
Like ours or celebrate a bridal night
With such close sympathies for they had sprung
From linked youth and from the gentle might
Of earliest love delayed and cherished long
And such is Nature law divine that those
Who grow together cannot choose but love
If faith or custom do not interpose
Or common slavery mar what else might move
All gentlest thoughts as in the sacred grove
Which shades the springs of Ethiopian Nile
That living tree which if the arrowy dove
Strike with her shadow shrinks in fear awhile
And clings to them when darkness may dissever
The close caresses of all duller plants
Which bloom on the wide earth thus we for ever
Were linked for love had nursed us in the haunts
Where knowledge from its secret source enchants
Young hearts with the fresh music of its springing
Ere yet its gathered flood feeds human wants
As the great Nile feeds Egypt ever flinging
The tones of Cythna voice like echoes were
Of those far murmuring streams they rose and fell
Mixed with mine own in the tempestuous air 
And so we sate until our talk befell
Of the late ruin swift and horrible
And how those seeds of hope might yet be sown
Whose fruit is evil mortal poison well
For us this ruin made a watch-tower lone
Since she had food therefore I did awaken
The Tartar steed who from his ebon mane
Soon as the clinging slumbers he had shaken
Bent his thin head to seek the brazen rein
Following me obediently with pain
Of heart so deep and dread that one caress
When lips and heart refuse to part again
Till they have told their fill could scarce express
Cythna beheld me part as I bestrode
That willing steed the tempest and the night
Which gave my path its safety as I rode
Down the ravine of rocks did soon unite
The darkness and the tumult of their might
Borne on all winds Far through the streaming rain
Floating at intervals the garments white
Of Cythna gleamed and her voice once again
I dreaded not the tempest nor did he
Who bore me but his eyeballs wide and red
Turned on the lightning cleft exultingly
And when the earth beneath his tameless tread
Shook with the sullen thunder he would spread
His nostrils to the blast and joyously
Mock the fierce peal with neighings thus we sped
O'er the lit plain and soon I could descry
There was a desolate village in a wood
Whose bloom-inwoven leaves now scattering fed
The hungry storm it was a place of blood
A heap of hearthless walls the flames were dead
Within those dwellings now the life had fled
From all those corpses now but the wide sky
Flooded with lightning was ribbed overhead
By the black rafters and around did lie
Beside the fountain in the market-place
Dismounting I beheld those corpses stare
With horny eyes upon each other face
And on the earth and on the vacant air
And upon me close to the waters where
I stooped to slake my thirst I shrank to taste
For the salt bitterness of blood was there
But tied the steed beside and sought in haste
No living thing was there beside one woman
Whom I found wandering in the streets and she
Was withered from a likeness of aught human
Into a fiend by some strange misery
Soon as she heard my steps she leaped on me
And glued her burning lips to mine and laughed
With a loud long and frantic laugh of glee
And cried 'Now Mortal thou hast deeply quaffed
'My name is Pestilence this bosom dry
Once fed two babes a sister and a brother 
When I came home one in the blood did lie
Of three death-wounds the flames had ate the other
Since then I have no longer been a mother
But I am Pestilence hither and thither
I flit about that I may slay and smother 
All lips which I have kissed must surely wither
'What seek'st thou here The moonlight comes in flashes 
The dew is rising dankly from the dell 
'Twill moisten her and thou shalt see the gashes
In my sweet boy now full of worms but tell
First what thou seek'st' 'I seek for food' ''Tis well
Thou shalt have food Famine my paramour
Waits for us at the feast cruel and fell
Is Famine but he drives not from his door
As thus she spake she grasped me with the strength
Of madness and by many a ruined hearth
She led and over many a corpse at length
We came to a lone hut where on the earth
Which made its floor she in her ghastly mirth
Gathering from all those homes now desolate
Had piled three heaps of loaves making a dearth
Among the dead round which she set in state
She leaped upon a pile and lifted high
Her mad looks to the lightning and cried 'Eat
Share the great feast to-morrow we must die
And then she spurned the loaves with her pale feet
Towards her bloodless guests that sight to meet
Mine eyes and my heart ached and but that she
Who loved me did with absent looks defeat
Despair I might have raved in sympathy
And vainly having with her madness striven
If I might win her to return with me
Departed In the eastern beams of Heaven
The lightning now grew pallid rapidly
As by the shore of the tempestuous sea
The dark steed bore me and the mountain gray
Soon echoed to his hoofs and I could see
Cythna among the rocks where she alway
And joy was ours to meet she was most pale
Famished and wet and weary so I cast
My arms around her lest her steps should fail
As to our home we went and thus embraced
Her full heart seemed a deeper joy to taste
Than e'er the prosperous know the steed behind
Trod peacefully along the mountain waste
We reached our home ere morning could unbind
Her chilled heart having cherished in my bosom
And sweetest kisses past we two did share
Our peaceful meal as an autumnal blossom
Which spreads its shrunk leaves in the sunny air
After cold showers like rainbows woven there
Thus in her lips and cheeks the vital spirit
Mantled and in her eyes an atmosphere
Of health and hope and sorrow languished near it
So we sate joyous as the morning ray
Which fed upon the wrecks of night and storm
Now lingering on the winds light airs did play
Among the dewy weeds the sun was warm
And we sate linked in the inwoven charm
Of converse and caresses sweet and deep
Speechless caresses talk that might disarm
Time though he wield the darts of death and sleep
I told her of my sufferings and my madness
And how awakened from that dreamy mood
By Liberty uprise the strength of gladness
Came to my spirit in my solitude
And all that now I was while tears pursued
Each other down her fair and listening cheek
Fast as the thoughts which fed them like a flood
From sunbright dales and when I ceased to speak
She told me a strange tale of strange endurance
Like broken memories of many a heart
Woven into one to which no firm assurance
So wild were they could her own faith impart
She said that not a tear did dare to start
From the swoln brain and that her thoughts were firm
When from all mortal hope she did depart
Borne by those slaves across the Ocean term
One was she among many there the thralls
Of the cold Tyrant cruel lust and they
Laughed mournfully in those polluted halls
But she was calm and sad musing alway
On loftiest enterprise till on a day
The Tyrant heard her singing to her lute
A wild and sad and spirit-thrilling lay
Like winds that die in wastes one moment mute
Even when he saw her wondrous loveliness
One moment to great Nature sacred power
He bent and was no longer passionless
But when he bade her to his secret bower
Be borne a loveless victim and she tore
Her locks in agony and her words of flame
And mightier looks availed not then he bore
Again his load of slavery and became
She told me what a loathsome agony
Is that when selfishness mocks love delight
Foul as in dream most fearful imagery
To dally with the mowing dead that night
All torture fear or horror made seem light
Which the soul dreams or knows and when the day
Shone on her awful frenzy from the sight
Where like a Spirit in fleshly chains she lay
Her madness was a beam of light a power
Which dawned through the rent soul and words it gave
Gestures and looks such as in whirlwinds bore
Which might not be withstood whence none could save 
All who approached their sphere like some calm wave
Vexed into whirlpools by the chasms beneath
And sympathy made each attendant slave
Fearless and free and they began to breathe
The King felt pale upon his noonday throne
At night two slaves he to her chamber sent 
One was a green and wrinkled eunuch grown
From human shape into an instrument
Of all things ill distorted bowed and bent
The other was a wretch from infancy
Made dumb by poison who nought knew or meant
But to obey from the fire isles came he
They bore her to a bark and the swift stroke
Of silent rowers clove the blue moonlight seas
Until upon their path the morning broke
They anchored then where be there calm or breeze
The gloomiest of the drear Symplegades
Shakes with the sleepless surge the Ethiop there
Wound his long arms around her and with knees
Like iron clasped her feet and plunged with her
'Swift as an eagle stooping from the plain
Of morning light into some shadowy wood
He plunged through the green silence of the main
Through many a cavern which the eternal flood
Had scooped as dark lairs for its monster brood
And among mighty shapes which fled in wonder
And among mightier shadows which pursued
His heels he wound until the dark rocks under
He touched a golden chain a sound arose like thunder
'A stunning clang of massive bolts redoubling
Beneath the deep a burst of waters driven
As from the roots of the sea raging and bubbling
And in that roof of crags a space was riven
Through which there shone the emerald beams of heaven
Shot through the lines of many waves inwoven
Like sunlight through acacia woods at even
Through which his way the diver having cloven
'And then' she said 'he laid me in a cave
Above the waters by that chasm of sea
A fountain round and vast in which the wave
Imprisoned boiled and leaped perpetually
Down which one moment resting he did flee
Winning the adverse depth that spacious cell
Like an hupaithric temple wide and high
Whose aery dome is inaccessible
'Below the fountain brink was richly paven
With the deep wealth coral and pearl and sand
Like spangling gold and purple shells engraven
With mystic legends by no mortal hand
Left there when thronging to the moon command
The gathering waves rent the Hesperian gate
Of mountains and on such bright floor did stand
Columns and shapes like statues and the state
'The fiend of madness which had made its prey
Of my poor heart was lulled to sleep awhile
There was an interval of many a day
And a sea-eagle brought me food the while
Whose nest was built in that untrodden isle
And who to be the gaoler had been taught
Of that strange dungeon as a friend whose smile
Like light and rest at morn and even is sought
'The misery of a madness slow and creeping
Which made the earth seem fire the sea seem air
And the white clouds of noon which oft were sleeping
In the blue heaven so beautiful and fair
Like hosts of ghastly shadows hovering there
And the sea-eagle looked a fiend who bore
Thy mangled limbs for food Thus all things were
Transformed into the agony which I wore
'Again I knew the day and night fast fleeing
The eagle and the fountain and the air
Another frenzy came there seemed a being
Within me a strange load my heart did bear
As if some living thing had made its lair
Even in the fountains of my life a long
And wondrous vision wrought from my despair
Then grew like sweet reality among
'Methought I was about to be a mother 
Month after month went by and still I dreamed
That we should soon be all to one another
I and my child and still new pulses seemed
To beat beside my heart and still I deemed
There was a babe within and when the rain
Of winter through the rifted cavern streamed
Methought after a lapse of lingering pain
'It was a babe beautiful from its birth 
It was like thee dear love its eyes were thine
Its brow its lips and so upon the earth
It laid its fingers as now rest on mine
Thine own beloved 'twas a dream divine
Even to remember how it fled how swift
How utterly might make the heart repine 
Though 'twas a dream' Then Cythna did uplift
A doubt which would not flee a tenderness
Of questioning grief a source of thronging tears
Which having passed as one whom sobs oppress
She spoke 'Yes in the wilderness of years
Her memory aye like a green home appears
She sucked her fill even at this breast sweet love
For many months I had no mortal fears
Methought I felt her lips and breath approve 
'I watched the dawn of her first smiles and soon
When zenith stars were trembling on the wave
Or when the beams of the invisible moon
Or sun from many a prism within the cave
Their gem-born shadows to the water gave
Her looks would hunt them and with outspread hand
From the swift lights which might that fountain pave
She would mark one and laugh when that command
'Methought her looks began to talk with me
And no articulate sounds but something sweet
Her lips would frame so sweet it could not be
That it was meaningless her touch would meet
Mine and our pulses calmly flow and beat
In response while we slept and on a day
When I was happiest in that strange retreat
With heaps of golden shells we two did play 
'Ere night methought her waning eyes were grown
Weary with joy and tired with our delight
We on the earth like sister twins lay down
On one fair mother bosom from that night
She fled like those illusions clear and bright
Which dwell in lakes when the red moon on high
Pause ere it wakens tempest and her flight
Though 'twas the death of brainless fantasy
'It seemed that in the dreary night the diver
Who brought me thither came again and bore
My child away I saw the waters quiver
When he so swiftly sunk as once before
Then morning came it shone even as of yore
But I was changed the very life was gone
Out of my heart I wasted more and more
Day after day and sitting there alone
'I was no longer mad and yet methought
My breasts were swoln and changed in every vein
The blood stood still one moment while that thought
Was passing with a gush of sickening pain
It ebbed even to its withered springs again
When my wan eyes in stern resolve I turned
From that most strange delusion which would fain
Have waked the dream for which my spirit yearned
'So now my reason was restored to me
I struggled with that dream which like a beast
Most fierce and beauteous in my memory
Had made its lair and on my heart did feast
But all that cave and all its shapes possessed
By thoughts which could not fade renewed each one
Some smile some look some gesture which had blessed
Me heretofore I sitting there alone
'Time passed I know not whether months or years
For day nor night nor change of seasons made
Its note but thoughts and unavailing tears
And I became at last even as a shade
A smoke a cloud on which the winds have preyed
Till it be thin as air until one even
A Nautilus upon the fountain played
Spreading his azure sail where breath of Heaven
'And when the Eagle came that lovely thing
Oaring with rosy feet its silver boat
Fled near me as for shelter on slow wing
The Eagle hovering o'er his prey did float
But when he saw that I with fear did note
His purpose proffering my own food to him
The eager plumes subsided on his throat 
He came where that bright child of sea did swim
'This wakened me it gave me human strength
And hope I know not whence or wherefore rose
But I resumed my ancient powers at length
My spirit felt again like one of those
Like thine whose fate it is to make the woes
Of humankind their prey what was this cave
Its deep foundation no firm purpose knows
Immutable resistless strong to save
'And where was Laon might my heart be dead
While that far dearer heart could move and be
Or whilst over the earth the pall was spread
Which I had sworn to rend I might be free
Could I but win that friendly bird to me
To bring me ropes and long in vain I sought
By intercourse of mutual imagery
Of objects if such aid he could be taught
'We live in our own world and mine was made
From glorious fantasies of hope departed
Aye we are darkened with their floating shade
Or cast a lustre on them time imparted
Such power to me I became fearless-hearted
My eye and voice grew firm calm was my mind
And piercing like the morn now it has darted
Its lustre on all hidden things behind
'My mind became the book through which I grew
Wise in all human wisdom and its cave
Which like a mine I rifled through and through
To me the keeping of its secrets gave 
One mind the type of all the moveless wave
Whose calm reflects all moving things that are
Necessity and love and life the grave
And sympathy fountains of hope and fear
'And on the sand would I make signs to range
These woofs as they were woven of my thought
Clear elemental shapes whose smallest change
A subtler language within language wrought
The key of truths which once were dimly taught
In old Crotona and sweet melodies
Of love in that lorn solitude I caught
From mine own voice in dream when thy dear eyes
'Thy songs were winds whereon I fled at will
As in a winged chariot o'er the plain
Of crystal youth and thou wert there to fill
My heart with joy and there we sate again
On the gray margin of the glimmering main
Happy as then but wiser far for we
Smiled on the flowery grave in which were lain
Fear Faith and Slavery and mankind was free
'For to my will my fancies were as slaves
To do their sweet and subtile ministries
And oft from that bright fountain shadowy waves
They would make human throngs gather and rise
To combat with my overflowing eyes
And voice made deep with passion thus I grew
Familiar with the shock and the surprise
And war of earthly minds from which I drew
'And thus my prison was the populous earth 
Where I saw even as misery dreams of morn
Before the east has given its glory birth 
Religion pomp made desolate by the scorn
Of Wisdom faintest smile and thrones uptorn
And dwellings of mild people interspersed
With undivided fields of ripening corn
And love made free a hope which we have nursed
'All is not lost There is some recompense
For hope whose fountain can be thus profound
Even throned Evil splendid impotence
Girt by its hell of power the secret sound
Of hymns to truth and freedom the dread bound
Of life and death passed fearlessly and well
Dungeons wherein the high resolve is found
Racks which degraded woman greatness tell
'Such are the thoughts which like the fires that flare
In storm-encompassed isles we cherish yet
In this dark ruin such were mine even there
As in its sleep some odorous violet
While yet its leaves with nightly dews are wet
Breathes in prophetic dreams of day uprise
Or as ere Scythian frost in fear has met
Spring messengers descending from the skies
'So years had passed when sudden earthquake rent
The depth of ocean and the cavern cracked
With sound as if the world wide continent
Had fallen in universal ruin wracked
And through the cleft streamed in one cataract
The stifling waters when I woke the flood
Whose banded waves that crystal cave had sacked
Was ebbing round me and my bright abode
'Above me was the sky beneath the sea
I stood upon a point of shattered stone
And heard loose rocks rushing tumultuously
With splash and shock into the deep anon
All ceased and there was silence wide and lone
I felt that I was free The Ocean-spray
Quivered beneath my feet the broad Heaven shone
Around and in my hair the winds did play
'My spirit moved upon the sea like wind
Which round some thymy cape will lag and hover
Though it can wake the still cloud and unbind
The strength of tempest day was almost over
When through the fading light I could discover
A ship approaching its white sails were fed
With the north wind its moving shade did cover
The twilight deep the mariners in dread
'And when they saw one sitting on a crag
They sent a boat to me the Sailors rowed
In awe through many a new and fearful jag
Of overhanging rock through which there flowed
The foam of streams that cannot make abode
They came and questioned me but when they heard
My voice they became silent and they stood
And moved as men in whom new love had stirred
'I sate beside the Steersman then and gazing
Upon the west cried Spread the sails Behold
The sinking moon is like a watch-tower blazing
Over the mountains yet the City of Gold
Yon Cape alone does from the sight withhold
The stream is fleet the north breathes steadily
Beneath the stars they tremble with the cold
Ye cannot rest upon the dreary sea 
'The Mariners obeyed the Captain stood
Aloof and whispering to the Pilot said
Alas alas I fear we are pursued
By wicked ghosts a Phantom of the Dead
The night before we sailed came to my bed
In dream like that The Pilot then replied
It cannot be she is a human Maid 
Her low voice makes you weep she is some bride
'We passed the islets borne by wind and stream
And as we sailed the Mariners came near
And thronged around to listen in the gleam
Of the pale moon I stood as one whom fear
May not attaint and my calm voice did rear
Ye are all human yon broad moon gives light
To millions who the selfsame likeness wear
Even while I speak beneath this very night
'What dream ye Your own hands have built an home
Even for yourselves on a beloved shore
For some fond eyes are pining till they come
How they will greet him when his toils are o'er
And laughing babes rush from the well-known door
Is this your care ye toil for your own good 
Ye feel and think has some immortal power
Such purposes or in a human mood
'What is that Power Ye mock yourselves and give
A human heart to what ye cannot know
As if the cause of life could think and live
'Twere as if man own works should feel and show
The hopes and fears and thoughts from which they flow
And he be like to them Lo Plague is free
To waste Blight Poison Earthquake Hail and Snow
Disease and Want and worse Necessity
'What is that Power Some moon-struck sophist stood
Watching the shade from his own soul upthrown
Fill Heaven and darken Earth and in such mood
The Form he saw and worshipped was his own
His likeness in the world vast mirror shown
And 'twere an innocent dream but that a faith
Nursed by fear dew of poison grows thereon
And that men say that Power has chosen Death
'Men say that they themselves have heard and seen
Or known from others who have known such things
A Shade a Form which Earth and Heaven between
Wields an invisible rod that Priests and Kings
Custom domestic sway ay all that brings
Man freeborn soul beneath the oppressor heel
Are his strong ministers and that the stings
Of death will make the wise his vengeance feel
'And it is said this Power will punish wrong
Yes add despair to crime and pain to pain
And deepest hell and deathless snakes among
Will bind the wretch on whom is fixed a stain
Which like a plague a burden and a bane
Clung to him while he lived for love and hate
Virtue and vice they say are difference vain 
The will of strength is right this human state
'Alas what strength Opinion is more frail
Than yon dim cloud now fading on the moon
Even while we gaze though it awhile avail
To hide the orb of truth and every throne
Of Earth or Heaven though shadow rests thereon
One shape of many names for this ye plough
The barren waves of ocean hence each one
Is slave or tyrant all betray and bow
'Its names are each a sign which maketh holy
All power ay the ghost the dream the shade
Of power lust falsehood hate and pride and folly
The pattern whence all fraud and wrong is made
A law to which mankind has been betrayed
And human love is as the name well known
Of a dear mother whom the murderer laid
In bloody grave and into darkness thrown
'O Love who to the hearts of wandering men
Art as the calm to Ocean weary waves
Justice or Truth or Joy those only can
From slavery and religion labyrinth caves
Guide us as one clear star the seaman saves
To give to all an equal share of good
To track the steps of Freedom though through graves
She pass to suffer all in patient mood
'To feel the peace of self-contentment lot
To own all sympathies and outrage none
And in the inmost bowers of sense and thought
Until life sunny day is quite gone down
To sit and smile with Joy or not alone
To kiss salt tears from the worn cheek of Woe
To live as if to love and live were one 
This is not faith or law nor those who bow
'But children near their parents tremble now
Because they must obey one rules another
And as one Power rules both high and low
So man is made the captive of his brother
And Hate is throned on high with Fear her mother
Above the Highest and those fountain-cells
Whence love yet flowed when faith had choked all other
Are darkened Woman as the bond-slave dwells
'Man seeks for gold in mines that he may weave
A lasting chain for his own slavery 
In fear and restless care that he may live
He toils for others who must ever be
The joyless thralls of like captivity
He murders for his chiefs delight in ruin
He builds the altar that its idol fee
May be his very blood he is pursuing 
'Woman she is his slave she has become
A thing I weep to speak the child of scorn
The outcast of a desolated home
Falsehood and fear and toil like waves have worn
Channels upon her cheek which smiles adorn
As calm decks the false Ocean well ye know
What Woman is for none of Woman born
Can choose but drain the bitter dregs of woe
'This need not be ye might arise and will
That gold should lose its power and thrones their glory
That love which none may bind be free to fill
The world like light and evil faith grown hoary
With crime be quenched and die Yon promontory
Even now eclipses the descending moon 
Dungeons and palaces are transitory 
High temples fade like vapour Man alone
'Let all be free and equal From your hearts
I feel an echo through my inmost frame
Like sweetest sound seeking its mate it darts 
Whence come ye friends Alas I cannot name
All that I read of sorrow toil and shame
On your worn faces as in legends old
Which make immortal the disastrous fame
Of conquerors and impostors false and bold
'Whence come ye friends from pouring human blood
Forth on the earth Or bring ye steel and gold
That Kings may dupe and slay the multitude
Or from the famished poor pale weak and cold
Bear ye the earnings of their toil Unfold
Speak Are your hands in slaughter sanguine hue
Stained freshly have your hearts in guile grown old
Know yourselves thus ye shall be pure as dew
'Disguise it not we have one human heart 
All mortal thoughts confess a common home
Blush not for what may to thyself impart
Stains of inevitable crime the doom
Is this which has or may or must become
Thine and all humankind Ye are the spoil
Which Time thus marks for the devouring tomb 
Thou and thy thoughts and they and all the toil
'Disguise it not ye blush for what ye hate
And Enmity is sister unto Shame
Look on your mind it is the book of fate 
Ah it is dark with many a blazoned name
Of misery all are mirrors of the same
But the dark fiend who with his iron pen
Dipped in scorn fiery poison makes his fame
Enduring there would o'er the heads of men
'Yes it is Hate that shapeless fiendly thing
Of many names all evil some divine
Whom self-contempt arms with a mortal sting
Which when the heart its snaky folds entwine
Is wasted quite and when it doth repine
To gorge such bitter prey on all beside
It turns with ninefold rage as with its twine
When Amphisbaena some fair bird has tied
'Reproach not thine own soul but know thyself
Nor hate another crime nor loathe thine own
It is the dark idolatry of self
Which when our thoughts and actions once are gone
Demands that man should weep and bleed and groan
Oh vacant expiation Be at rest 
The past is Death the future is thine own
And love and joy can make the foulest breast
'Speak thou whence come ye A Youth made reply
Wearily wearily o'er the boundless deep
We sail thou readest well the misery
Told in these faded eyes but much doth sleep
Within which there the poor heart loves to keep
Or dare not write on the dishonoured brow
Even from our childhood have we learned to steep
The bread of slavery in the tears of woe
'Yes I must speak my secret should have perished
Even with the heart it wasted as a brand
Fades in the dying flame whose life it cherished
But that no human bosom can withstand
Thee wondrous Lady and the mild command
Of thy keen eyes yes we are wretched slaves
Who from their wonted loves and native land
Are reft and bear o'er the dividing waves
'We drag afar from pastoral vales the fairest
Among the daughters of those mountains lone
We drag them there where all things best and rarest
Are stained and trampled years have come and gone
Since like the ship which bears me I have known
No thought but now the eyes of one dear Maid
On mine with light of mutual love have shone 
She is my life I am but as the shade
'For she must perish in the Tyrant hall 
Alas alas He ceased and by the sail
Sate cowering but his sobs were heard by all
And still before the ocean and the gale
The ship fled fast till the stars 'gan to fail
And round me gathered with mute countenance
The Seamen gazed the Pilot worn and pale
With toil the Captain with gray locks whose glance
'Recede not pause not now Thou art grown old
But Hope will make thee young for Hope and Youth
Are children of one mother even Love behold
The eternal stars gaze on us is the truth
Within your soul care for your own or ruth
For others' sufferings do ye thirst to bear
A heart which not the serpent Custom tooth
May violate Be free and even here
'The very darkness shook as with a blast
Of subterranean thunder at the cry
The hollow shore its thousand echoes cast
Into the night as if the sea and sky
And earth rejoiced with new-born liberty
For in that name they swore Bolts were undrawn
And on the deck with unaccustomed eye
The captives gazing stood and every one
'They were earth purest children young and fair
With eyes the shrines of unawakened thought
And brows as bright as Spring or Morning ere
Dark time had there its evil legend wrought
In characters of cloud which wither not 
The change was like a dream to them but soon
They knew the glory of their altered lot
In the bright wisdom of youth breathless noon
'But one was mute her cheeks and lips most fair
Changing their hue like lilies newly blown
Beneath a bright acacia shadowy hair
Waved by the wind amid the sunny noon
Showed that her soul was quivering and full soon
That Youth arose and breathlessly did look
On her and me as for some speechless boon
I smiled and both their hands in mine I took
'That night we anchored in a woody bay
And sleep no more around us dared to hover
Than when all doubt and fear has passed away
It shades the couch of some unresting lover
Whose heart is now at rest thus night passed over
In mutual joy around a forest grew
Of poplars and dark oaks whose shade did cover
The waning stars pranked in the waters blue
'The joyous Mariners and each free Maiden
Now brought from the deep forest many a bough
With woodland spoil most innocently laden
Soon wreaths of budding foliage seemed to flow
Over the mast and sails the stern and prow
Were canopied with blooming boughs the while
On the slant sun path o'er the waves we go
Rejoicing like the dwellers of an isle
'The many ships spotting the dark blue deep
With snowy sails fled fast as ours came nigh
In fear and wonder and on every steep
Thousands did gaze they heard the startling cry
Like Earth own voice lifted unconquerably
To all her children the unbounded mirth
The glorious joy of thy name Liberty
They heard As o'er the mountains of the earth
'So from that cry over the boundless hills
Sudden was caught one universal sound
Like a volcano voice whose thunder fills
Remotest skies such glorious madness found
A path through human hearts with stream which drowned
Its struggling fears and cares dark Custom brood
They knew not whence it came but felt around
A wide contagion poured they called aloud
'We reached the port Alas from many spirits
The wisdom which had waked that cry was fled
Like the brief glory which dark Heaven inherits
From the false dawn which fades ere it is spread
Upon the night devouring darkness shed
Yet soon bright day will burst even like a chasm
Of fire to burn the shrouds outworn and dead
Which wrap the world a wide enthusiasm
'I walked through the great City then but free
From shame or fear those toil-worn Mariners
And happy Maidens did encompass me
And like a subterranean wind that stirs
Some forest among caves the hopes and fears
From every human soul a murmur strange
Made as I passed and many wept with tears
Of joy and awe and winged thoughts did range
'For with strong speech I tore the veil that hid
Nature and Truth and Liberty and Love 
As one who from some mountain pyramid
Points to the unrisen sun the shades approve
His truth and flee from every stream and grove
Thus gentle thoughts did many a bosom fill 
Wisdom the mail of tried affections wove
For many a heart and tameless scorn of ill
'Some said I was a maniac wild and lost
Some that I scarce had risen from the grave
The Prophet virgin bride a heavenly ghost 
Some said I was a fiend from my weird cave
Who had stolen human shape and o'er the wave
The forest and the mountain came some said
I was the child of God sent down to save
Woman from bonds and death and on my head
'But soon my human words found sympathy
In human hearts the purest and the best
As friend with friend made common cause with me
And they were few but resolute the rest
Ere yet success the enterprise had blessed
Leagued with me in their hearts their meals their slumber
Their hourly occupations were possessed
By hopes which I had armed to overnumber
'But chiefly women whom my voice did waken
From their cold careless willing slavery
Sought me one truth their dreary prison has shaken 
They looked around and lo they became free
Their many tyrants sitting desolately
In slave-deserted halls could none restrain
For wrath red fire had withered in the eye
Whose lightning once was death nor fear nor gain
'Those who were sent to bind me wept and felt
Their minds outsoar the bonds which clasped them round
Even as a waxen shape may waste and melt
In the white furnace and a visioned swound
A pause of hope and awe the City bound
Which like the silence of a tempest birth
When in its awful shadow it has wound
The sun the wind the ocean and the earth
'Like clouds inwoven in the silent sky
By winds from distant regions meeting there
In the high name of truth and liberty
Around the City millions gathered were
By hopes which sprang from many a hidden lair 
Words which the lore of truth in hues of flame
Arrayed thine own wild songs which in the air
Like homeless odours floated and the name
'The Tyrant knew his power was gone but Fear
The nurse of Vengeance bade him wait the event 
That perfidy and custom gold and prayer
And whatsoe'er when force is impotent
To fraud the sceptre of the world has lent
Might as he judged confirm his failing sway
Therefore throughout the streets the Priests he sent
To curse the rebels To their gods did they
'And grave and hoary men were bribed to tell
From seats where law is made the slave of wrong
How glorious Athens in her splendour fell
Because her sons were free and that among
Mankind the many to the few belong
By Heaven and Nature and Necessity
They said that age was truth and that the young
Marred with wild hopes the peace of slavery
'And with the falsehood of their poisonous lips
They breathed on the enduring memory
Of sages and of bards a brief eclipse
There was one teacher who necessity
Had armed with strength and wrong against mankind
His slave and his avenger aye to be
That we were weak and sinful frail and blind
And that the will of one was peace and we
'For thus we might avoid the hell hereafter
So spake the hypocrites who cursed and lied
Alas their sway was past and tears and laughter
Clung to their hoary hair withering the pride
Which in their hollow hearts dared still abide
And yet obscener slaves with smoother brow
And sneers on their strait lips thin blue and wide
Said that the rule of men was over now
'And gold was scattered through the streets and wine
Flowed at a hundred feasts within the wall
In vain the steady towers in Heaven did shine
As they were wont nor at the priestly call
Left Plague her banquet in the Ethiop hall
Nor Famine from the rich man portal came
Where at her ease she ever preys on all
Who throng to kneel for food nor fear nor shame
'For gold was as a god whose faith began
To fade so that its worshippers were few
And Faith itself which in the heart of man
Gives shape voice name to spectral Terror knew
Its downfall as the altars lonelier grew
Till the Priests stood alone within the fane
The shafts of falsehood unpolluting flew
And the cold sneers of calumny were vain
'The rest thou knowest Lo we two are here 
We have survived a ruin wide and deep 
Strange thoughts are mine I cannot grieve or fear
Sitting with thee upon this lonely steep
I smile though human love should make me weep
We have survived a joy that knows no sorrow
And I do feel a mighty calmness creep
Over my heart which can no longer borrow
'We know not what will come yet Laon dearest
Cythna shall be the prophetess of Love
Her lips shall rob thee of the grace thou wearest
To hide thy heart and clothe the shapes which rove
Within the homeless Future wintry grove
For I now sitting thus beside thee seem
Even with thy breath and blood to live and move
And violence and wrong are as a dream
'The blasts of Autumn drive the winged seeds
Over the earth next come the snows and rain
And frosts and storms which dreary Winter leads
Out of his Scythian cave a savage train
Behold Spring sweeps over the world again
Shedding soft dews from her ethereal wings
Flowers on the mountains fruits over the plain
And music on the waves and woods she flings
'O Spring of hope and love and youth and gladness
Wind-winged emblem brightest best and fairest
Whence comest thou when with dark Winter sadness
The tears that fade in sunny smiles thou sharest
Sister of joy thou art the child who wearest
Thy mother dying smile tender and sweet
Thy mother Autumn for whose grave thou bearest
Fresh flowers and beams like flowers with gentle feet
'Virtue and Hope and Love like light and Heaven
Surround the world We are their chosen slaves
Has not the whirlwind of our spirit driven
Truth deathless germs to thought remotest caves
Lo Winter comes the grief of many graves
The frost of death the tempest of the sword
The flood of tyranny whose sanguine waves
Stagnate like ice at Faith the enchanter word
'The seeds are sleeping in the soil meanwhile
The Tyrant peoples dungeons with his prey
Pale victims on the guarded scaffold smile
Because they cannot speak and day by day
The moon of wasting Science wanes away
Among her stars and in that darkness vast
The sons of earth to their foul idols pray
And gray Priests triumph and like blight or blast
'This is the winter of the world and here
We die even as the winds of Autumn fade
Expiring in the frore and foggy air
Behold Spring comes though we must pass who made
The promise of its birth even as the shade
Which from our death as from a mountain flings
The future a broad sunrise thus arrayed
As with the plumes of overshadowing wings
'O dearest love we shall be dead and cold
Before this morn may on the world arise
Wouldst thou the glory of its dawn behold
Alas gaze not on me but turn thine eyes
On thine own heart it is a paradise
Which everlasting Spring has made its own
And while drear Winter fills the naked skies
Sweet streams of sunny thought and flowers fresh-blown
'In their own hearts the earnest of the hope
Which made them great the good will ever find
And though some envious shade may interlope
Between the effect and it One comes behind
Who aye the future to the past will bind 
Necessity whose sightless strength for ever
Evil with evil good with good must wind
In bands of union which no power may sever
'The good and mighty of departed ages
Are in their graves the innocent and free
Heroes and Poets and prevailing Sages
Who leave the vesture of their majesty
To adorn and clothe this naked world and we
Are like to them such perish but they leave
All hope or love or truth or liberty
Whose forms their mighty spirits could conceive
'So be the turf heaped over our remains
Even in our happy youth and that strange lot
Whate'er it be when in these mingling veins
The blood is still be ours let sense and thought
Pass from our being or be numbered not
Among the things that are let those who come
Behind for whom our steadfast will has bought
A calm inheritance a glorious doom
'Our many thoughts and deeds our life and love
Our happiness and all that we have been
Immortally must live and burn and move
When we shall be no more the world has seen
A type of peace and as some most serene
And lovely spot to a poor maniac eye
After long years some sweet and moving scene
Of youthful hope returning suddenly
'And Calumny meanwhile shall feed on us
As worms devour the dead and near the throne
And at the altar most accepted thus
Shall sneers and curses be what we have done
None shall dare vouch though it be truly known
That record shall remain when they must pass
Who built their pride on its oblivion
And fame in human hope which sculptured was
'The while we two beloved must depart
And Sense and Reason those enchanters fair
Whose wand of power is hope would bid the heart
That gazed beyond the wormy grave despair
These eyes these lips this blood seems darkly there
To fade in hideous ruin no calm sleep
Peopling with golden dreams the stagnant air
Seems our obscure and rotting eyes to steep
'These are blind fancies reason cannot know
What sense can neither feel nor thought conceive
There is delusion in the world and woe
And fear and pain we know not whence we live
Or why or how or what mute Power may give
Their being to each plant and star and beast
Or even these thoughts Come near me I do weave
A chain I cannot break I am possessed
'Yes yes thy kiss is sweet thy lips are warm 
O willingly beloved would these eyes
Might they no more drink being from thy form
Even as to sleep whence we again arise
Close their faint orbs in death I fear nor prize
Aught that can now betide unshared by thee 
Yes Love when Wisdom fails makes Cythna wise
Darkness and death if death be true must be
'Alas our thoughts flow on with stream whose waters
Return not to their fountain Earth and Heaven
The Ocean and the Sun the Clouds their daughters
Winter and Spring and Morn and Noon and Even
All that we are or know is darkly driven
Towards one gulf Lo what a change is come
Since I first spake but time shall be forgiven
Though it change all but thee' She ceased night gloom
Though she had ceased her countenance uplifted
To Heaven still spake with solemn glory bright
Her dark deep eyes her lips whose motions gifted
The air they breathed with love her locks undight
'Fair star of life and love' I cried 'my soul delight
Why lookest thou on the crystalline skies
O that my spirit were yon Heaven of night
Which gazes on thee with its thousand eyes
Was there a human spirit in the steed
That thus with his proud voice ere night was gone
He broke our linked rest or do indeed
All living things a common nature own
And thought erect an universal throne
Where many shapes one tribute ever bear
And Earth their mutual mother does she groan
To see her sons contend and makes she bare
I have heard friendly sounds from many a tongue
Which was not human the lone nightingale
Has answered me with her most soothing song
Out of her ivy bower when I sate pale
With grief and sighed beneath from many a dale
The antelopes who flocked for food have spoken
With happy sounds and motions that avail
Like man own speech and such was now the token
Each night that mighty steed bore me abroad
And I returned with food to our retreat
And dark intelligence the blood which flowed
Over the fields had stained the courser feet
Soon the dust drinks that bitter dew then meet
The vulture and the wild dog and the snake
The wolf and the hyaena gray and eat
The dead in horrid truce their throngs did make
For from the utmost realms of earth came pouring
The banded slaves whom every despot sent
At that throned traitor summons like the roaring
Of fire whose floods the wild deer circumvent
In the scorched pastures of the South so bent
The armies of the leagued Kings around
Their files of steel and flame the continent
Trembled as with a zone of ruin bound
From every nation of the earth they came
The multitude of moving heartless things
Whom slaves call men obediently they came
Like sheep whom from the fold the shepherd brings
To the stall red with blood their many kings
Led them thus erring from their native land
Tartar and Frank and millions whom the wings
Of Indian breezes lull and many a band
Fertile in prodigies and lies so there
Strange natures made a brotherhood of ill
The desert savage ceased to grasp in fear
His Asian shield and bow when at the will
Of Europe subtler son the bolt would kill
Some shepherd sitting on a rock secure
But smiles of wondering joy his face would fill
And savage sympathy those slaves impure
For traitorously did that foul Tyrant robe
His countenance in lies even at the hour
When he was snatched from death then o'er the globe
With secret signs from many a mountain-tower
With smoke by day and fire by night the power
Of Kings and Priests those dark conspirators
He called they knew his cause their own and swore
Like wolves and serpents to their mutual wars
Myriads had come millions were on their way
The Tyrant passed surrounded by the steel
Of hired assassins through the public way
Choked with his country dead his footsteps reel
On the fresh blood he smiles 'Ay now I feel
I am a King in truth' he said and took
His royal seat and bade the torturing wheel
Be brought and fire and pincers and the hook
'But first go slay the rebels why return
The victor bands' he said 'millions yet live
Of whom the weakest with one word might turn
The scales of victory yet let none survive
But those within the walls each fifth shall give
The expiation for his brethren here 
Go forth and waste and kill' 'O king forgive
My speech' a soldier answered 'but we fear
'For we were slaying still without remorse
And now that dreadful chief beneath my hand
Defenceless lay when on a hell-black horse
An Angel bright as day waving a brand
Which flashed among the stars passed' 'Dost thou stand
Parleying with me thou wretch' the king replied
'Slaves bind him to the wheel and of this band
Whoso will drag that woman to his side
'And gold and glory shall be his Go forth
They rushed into the plain Loud was the roar
Of their career the horsemen shook the earth
The wheeled artillery speed the pavement tore
The infantry file after file did pour
Their clouds on the utmost hills Five days they slew
Among the wasted fields the sixth saw gore
Stream through the city on the seventh the dew
Peace in the desert fields and villages
Between the glutted beasts and mangled dead
Peace in the silent streets save when the cries
Of victims to their fiery judgement led
Made pale their voiceless lips who seemed to dread
Even in their dearest kindred lest some tongue
Be faithless to the fear yet unbetrayed
Peace in the Tyrant palace where the throng
Day after day the burning sun rolled on
Over the death-polluted land it came
Out of the east like fire and fiercely shone
A lamp of Autumn ripening with its flame
The few lone ears of corn the sky became
Stagnate with heat so that each cloud and blast
Languished and died the thirsting air did claim
All moisture and a rotting vapour passed
First Want then Plague came on the beasts their food
Failed and they drew the breath of its decay
Millions on millions whom the scent of blood
Had lured or who from regions far away
Had tracked the hosts in festival array
From their dark deserts gaunt and wasting now
Stalked like fell shades among their perished prey
In their green eyes a strange disease did glow
The fish were poisoned in the streams the birds
In the green woods perished the insect race
Was withered up the scattered flocks and herds
Who had survived the wild beasts' hungry chase
Died moaning each upon the other face
In helpless agony gazing round the City
All night the lean hyaenas their sad case
Like starving infants wailed a woeful ditty
Amid the aereal minarets on high
The Ethiopian vultures fluttering fell
From their long line of brethren in the sky
Startling the concourse of mankind Too well
These signs the coming mischief did foretell 
Strange panic first a deep and sickening dread
Within each heart like ice did sink and dwell
A voiceless thought of evil which did spread
Day after day when the year wanes the frosts
Strip its green crown of leaves till all is bare
So on those strange and congregated hosts
Came Famine a swift shadow and the air
Groaned with the burden of a new despair
Famine than whom Misrule no deadlier daughter
Feeds from her thousand breasts though sleeping there
With lidless eyes lie Faith and Plague and Slaughter
There was no food the corn was trampled down
The flocks and herds had perished on the shore
The dead and putrid fish were ever thrown
The deeps were foodless and the winds no more
Creaked with the weight of birds but as before
Those winged things sprang forth were void of shade
The vines and orchards Autumn golden store
Were burned so that the meanest food was weighed
There was no corn in the wide market-place
All loathliest things even human flesh was sold
They weighed it in small scales and many a face
Was fixed in eager horror then his gold
The miser brought the tender maid grown bold
Through hunger bared her scorned charms in vain
The mother brought her eldest born controlled
By instinct blind as love but turned again
Then fell blue Plague upon the race of man
'O for the sheathed steel so late which gave
Oblivion to the dead when the streets ran
With brothers' blood O that the earthquake grave
Would gape or Ocean lift its stifling wave
Vain cries throughout the streets thousands pursued
Each by his fiery torture howl and rave
Or sit in frenzy unimagined mood
It was not hunger now but thirst Each well
Was choked with rotting corpses and became
A cauldron of green mist made visible
At sunrise Thither still the myriads came
Seeking to quench the agony of the flame
Which raged like poison through their bursting veins
Naked they were from torture without shame
Spotted with nameless scars and lurid blains
It was not thirst but madness Many saw
Their own lean image everywhere it went
A ghastlier self beside them till the awe
Of that dread sight to self-destruction sent
Those shrieking victims some ere life was spent
Sought with a horrid sympathy to shed
Contagion on the sound and others rent
Their matted hair and cried aloud 'We tread
Sometimes the living by the dead were hid
Near the great fountain in the public square
Where corpses made a crumbling pyramid
Under the sun was heard one stifled prayer
For life in the hot silence of the air
And strange 'twas amid that hideous heap to see
Some shrouded in their long and golden hair
As if not dead but slumbering quietly
Famine had spared the palace of the king 
He rioted in festival the while
He and his guards and priests but Plague did fling
One shadow upon all Famine can smile
On him who brings it food and pass with guile
Of thankful falsehood like a courtier gray
The house-dog of the throne but many a mile
Comes Plague a winged wolf who loathes alway
So near the throne amid the gorgeous feast
Sheathed in resplendent arms or loosely dight
To luxury ere the mockery yet had ceased
That lingered on his lips the warrior might
Was loosened and a new and ghastlier night
In dreams of frenzy lapped his eyes he fell
Headlong or with stiff eyeballs sate upright
Among the guests or raving mad did tell
The Princes and the Priests were pale with terror
That monstrous faith wherewith they ruled mankind
Fell like a shaft loosed by the bowman error
On their own hearts they sought and they could find
No refuge 'twas the blind who led the blind
So through the desolate streets to the high fane
The many-tongued and endless armies wind
In sad procession each among the train
'O God' they cried 'we know our secret pride
Has scorned thee and thy worship and thy name
Secure in human power we have defied
Thy fearful might we bend in fear and shame
Before thy presence with the dust we claim
Kindred be merciful O King of Heaven
Most justly have we suffered for thy fame
Made dim but be at length our sins forgiven
'O King of Glory thou alone hast power
Who can resist thy will who can restrain
Thy wrath when on the guilty thou dost shower
The shafts of thy revenge a blistering rain
Greatest and best be merciful again
Have we not stabbed thine enemies and made
The Earth an altar and the Heavens a fane
Where thou wert worshipped with their blood and laid
'Well didst thou loosen on this impious City
Thine angels of revenge recall them now
Thy worshippers abased here kneel for pity
And bind their souls by an immortal vow
We swear by thee and to our oath do thou
Give sanction from thine hell of fiends and flame
That we will kill with fire and torments slow
The last of those who mocked thy holy name
Thus they with trembling limbs and pallid lips
Worshipped their own hearts' image dim and vast
Scared by the shade wherewith they would eclipse
The light of other minds troubled they passed
From the great Temple fiercely still and fast
The arrows of the plague among them fell
And they on one another gazed aghast
And through the hosts contention wild befell
And Oromaze Joshua and Mahomet
Moses and Buddh Zerdusht and Brahm and Foh
A tumult of strange names which never met
Before as watchwords of a single woe
Arose each raging votary 'gan to throw
Aloft his armed hands and each did howl
'Our God alone is God' and slaughter now
Would have gone forth when from beneath a cowl
'Twas an Iberian Priest from whom it came
A zealous man who led the legioned West
With words which faith and pride had steeped in flame
To quell the unbelievers a dire guest
Even to his friends was he for in his breast
Did hate and guile lie watchful intertwined
Twin serpents in one deep and winding nest
He loathed all faith beside his own and pined
But more he loathed and hated the clear light
Of wisdom and free thought and more did fear
Lest kindled once its beams might pierce the night
Even where his Idol stood for far and near
Did many a heart in Europe leap to hear
That faith and tyranny were trampled down
Many a pale victim doomed for truth to share
The murderer cell or see with helpless groan
He dared not kill the infidels with fire
Or steel in Europe the slow agonies
Of legal torture mocked his keen desire
So he made truce with those who did despise
The expiation and the sacrifice
That though detested Islam kindred creed
Might crush for him those deadlier enemies
For fear of God did in his bosom breed
'Peace Peace' he cried 'when we are dead the Day
Of Judgement comes and all shall surely know
Whose God is God each fearfully shall pay
The errors of his faith in endless woe
But there is sent a mortal vengeance now
On earth because an impious race had spurned
Him whom we all adore a subtle foe
By whom for ye this dread reward was earned
'Think ye because ye weep and kneel and pray
That God will lull the pestilence It rose
Even from beneath his throne where many a day
His mercy soothed it to a dark repose
It walks upon the earth to judge his foes
And what are thou and I that he should deign
To curb his ghastly minister or close
The gates of death ere they receive the twain
'Ay there is famine in the gulf of hell
Its giant worms of fire for ever yawn 
Their lurid eyes are on us those who fell
By the swift shafts of pestilence ere dawn
Are in their jaws they hunger for the spawn
Of Satan their own brethren who were sent
To make our souls their spoil See see they fawn
Like dogs and they will sleep with luxury spent
'Our God may then lull Pestilence to sleep 
Pile high the pyre of expiation now
A forest spoil of boughs and on the heap
Pour venomous gums which sullenly and slow
When touched by flame shall burn and melt and flow
A stream of clinging fire and fix on high
A net of iron and spread forth below
A couch of snakes and scorpions and the fry
'Let Laon and Laone on that pyre
Linked tight with burning brass perish then pray
That with this sacrifice the withering ire
Of Heaven may be appeased' He ceased and they
A space stood silent as far far away
The echoes of his voice among them died
And he knelt down upon the dust alway
Muttering the curses of his speechless pride
His voice was like a blast that burst the portal
Of fabled hell and as he spake each one
Saw gape beneath the chasms of fire immortal
And Heaven above seemed cloven where on a throne
Girt round with storms and shadows sate alone
Their King and Judge fear killed in every breast
All natural pity then a fear unknown
Before and with an inward fire possessed
'Twas morn At noon the public crier went forth
Proclaiming through the living and the dead
'The Monarch saith that his great Empire worth
Is set on Laon and Laone head
He who but one yet living here can lead
Or who the life from both their hearts can wring
Shall be the kingdom heir a glorious meed
But he who both alive can hither bring
Ere night the pyre was piled the net of iron
Was spread above the fearful couch below
It overtopped the towers that did environ
That spacious square for Fear is never slow
To build the thrones of Hate her mate and foe
So she scourged forth the maniac multitude
To rear this pyramid tottering and slow
Plague-stricken foodless like lean herds pursued
Night came a starless and a moonless gloom
Until the dawn those hosts of many a nation
Stood round that pile as near one lover tomb
Two gentle sisters mourn their desolation
And in the silence of that expectation
Was heard on high the reptiles' hiss and crawl 
It was so deep save when the devastation
Of the swift pest with fearful interval
Morn came among those sleepless multitudes
Madness and Fear and Plague and Famine still
Heaped corpse on corpse as in autumnal woods
The frosts of many a wind with dead leaves fill
Earth cold and sullen brooks in silence still
The pale survivors stood ere noon the fear
Of Hell became a panic which did kill
Like hunger or disease with whispers drear
And Priests rushed through their ranks some counterfeiting
The rage they did inspire some mad indeed
With their own lies they said their god was waiting
To see his enemies writhe and burn and bleed 
And that till then the snakes of Hell had need
Of human souls three hundred furnaces
Soon blazed through the wide City where with speed
Men brought their infidel kindred to appease
The noontide sun was darkened with that smoke
The winds of eve dispersed those ashes gray
The madness which these rites had lulled awoke
Again at sunset Who shall dare to say
The deeds which night and fear brought forth or weigh
In balance just the good and evil there
He might man deep and searchless heart display
And cast a light on those dim labyrinths where
'Tis said a mother dragged three children then
To those fierce flames which roast the eyes in the head
And laughed and died and that unholy men
Feasting like fiends upon the infidel dead
Looked from their meal and saw an Angel tread
The visible floor of Heaven and it was she
And on that night one without doubt or dread
Came to the fire and said 'Stop I am he
And one by one that night young maidens came
Beauteous and calm like shapes of living stone
Clothed in the light of dreams and by the flame
Which shrank as overgorged they laid them down
And sung a low sweet song of which alone
One word was heard and that was Liberty
And that some kissed their marble feet with moan
Like love and died and then that they did die
She saw me not she heard me not alone
Upon the mountain dizzy brink she stood
She spake not breathed not moved not there was thrown
Over her look the shadow of a mood
Which only clothes the heart in solitude
A thought of voiceless depth she stood alone
Above the Heavens were spread below the flood
Was murmuring in its caves the wind had blown
A cloud was hanging o'er the western mountains
Before its blue and moveless depth were flying
Gray mists poured forth from the unresting fountains
Of darkness in the North the day was dying 
Sudden the sun shone forth its beams were lying
Like boiling gold on Ocean strange to see
And on the shattered vapours which defying
The power of light in vain tossed restlessly
It was a stream of living beams whose bank
On either side by the cloud cleft was made
And where its chasms that flood of glory drank
Its waves gushed forth like fire and as if swayed
By some mute tempest rolled on HER the shade
Of her bright image floated on the river
Of liquid light which then did end and fade 
Her radiant shape upon its verge did shiver
I stood beside her but she saw me not 
She looked upon the sea and skies and earth
Rapture and love and admiration wrought
A passion deeper far than tears or mirth
Or speech or gesture or whate'er has birth
From common joy which with the speechless feeling
That led her there united and shot forth
From her far eyes a light of deep revealing
Her lips were parted and the measured breath
Was now heard there her dark and intricate eyes
Orb within orb deeper than sleep or death
Absorbed the glories of the burning skies
Which mingling with her heart deep ecstasies
Burst from her looks and gestures and a light
Of liquid tenderness like love did rise
From her whole frame an atmosphere which quite
She would have clasped me to her glowing frame
Those warm and odorous lips might soon have shed
On mine the fragrance and the invisible flame
Which now the cold winds stole she would have laid
Upon my languid heart her dearest head
I might have heard her voice tender and sweet
Her eyes mingling with mine might soon have fed
My soul with their own joy One moment yet
Never but once to meet on Earth again
She heard me as I fled her eager tone
Sunk on my heart and almost wove a chain
Around my will to link it with her own
So that my stern resolve was almost gone
'I cannot reach thee whither dost thou fly
My steps are faint Come back thou dearest one 
Return ah me return' The wind passed by
Woe Woe that moonless midnight Want and Pest
Were horrible but one more fell doth rear
As in a hydra swarming lair its crest
Eminent among those victims even the Fear
Of Hell each girt by the hot atmosphere
Of his blind agony like a scorpion stung
By his own rage upon his burning bier
Of circling coals of fire but still there clung
Not death death was no more refuge or rest
Not life it was despair to be not sleep
For fiends and chasms of fire had dispossessed
All natural dreams to wake was not to weep
But to gaze mad and pallid at the leap
To which the Future like a snaky scourge
Or like some tyrant eye which aye doth keep
Its withering beam upon his slaves did urge
Each of that multitude alone and lost
To sense of outward things one hope yet knew
As on a foam-girt crag some seaman tossed
Stares at the rising tide or like the crew
Whilst now the ship is splitting through and through
Each if the tramp of a far steed was heard
Started from sick despair or if there flew
One murmur on the wind or if some word
Why became cheeks wan with the kiss of death
Paler from hope they had sustained despair
Why watched those myriads with suspended breath
Sleepless a second night they are not here
The victims and hour by hour a vision drear
Warm corpses fall upon the clay-cold dead
And even in death their lips are wreathed with fear 
The crowd is mute and moveless overhead
'Of rushing feet laughter the shout the scream
Of triumph not to be contained See hark
They come they come give way' Alas ye deem
Falsely 'tis but a crowd of maniacs stark
Driven like a troop of spectres through the dark
From the choked well whence a bright death-fire sprung
A lurid earth-star which dropped many a spark
From its blue train and spreading widely clung
And many from the crowd collected there
Joined that strange dance in fearful sympathies
There was the silence of a long despair
When the last echo of those terrible cries
Came from a distant street like agonies
Stifled afar Before the Tyrant throne
All night his aged Senate sate their eyes
In stony expectation fixed when one
Dark Priests and haughty Warriors gazed on him
With baffled wonder for a hermit vest
Concealed his face but when he spake his tone
Ere yet the matter did their thoughts arrest 
Earnest benignant calm as from a breast
Void of all hate or terror made them start
For as with gentle accents he addressed
His speech to them on each unwilling heart
'Ye Princes of the Earth ye sit aghast
Amid the ruin which yourselves have made
Yes Desolation heard your trumpet blast
And sprang from sleep dark Terror has obeyed
Your bidding O that I whom ye have made
Your foe could set my dearest enemy free
From pain and fear but evil casts a shade
Which cannot pass so soon and Hate must be
'Ye turn to Heaven for aid in your distress
Alas that ye the mighty and the wise
Who if ye dared might not aspire to less
Than ye conceive of power should fear the lies
Which thou and thou didst frame for mysteries
To blind your slaves consider your own thought
An empty and a cruel sacrifice
Ye now prepare for a vain idol wrought
'Ye seek for happiness alas the day
Ye find it not in luxury nor in gold
Nor in the fame nor in the envied sway
For which O willing slaves to Custom old
Severe taskmistress ye your hearts have sold
Ye seek for peace and when ye die to dream
No evil dreams all mortal things are cold
And senseless then if aught survive I deem
'Fear not the future weep not for the past
Oh could I win your ears to dare be now
Glorious and great and calm that ye would cast
Into the dust those symbols of your woe
Purple and gold and steel that ye would go
Proclaiming to the nations whence ye came
That Want and Plague and Fear from slavery flow
And that mankind is free and that the shame
'If thus 'tis well if not I come to say
That Laon ' while the Stranger spoke among
The Council sudden tumult and affray
Arose for many of those warriors young
Had on his eloquent accents fed and hung
Like bees on mountain-flowers they knew the truth
And from their thrones in vindication sprung
The men of faith and law then without ruth
They stabbed them in the back and sneered a slave
Who stood behind the throne those corpses drew
Each to its bloody dark and secret grave
And one more daring raised his steel anew
To pierce the Stranger 'What hast thou to do
With me poor wretch' Calm solemn and severe
That voice unstrung his sinews and he threw
His dagger on the ground and pale with fear
'It doth avail not that I weep for ye 
Ye cannot change since ye are old and gray
And ye have chosen your lot your fame must be
A book of blood whence in a milder day
Men shall learn truth when ye are wrapped in clay
Now ye shall triumph I am Laon friend
And him to your revenge will I betray
So ye concede one easy boon Attend
'There is a People mighty in its youth
A land beyond the Oceans of the West
Where though with rudest rites Freedom and Truth
Are worshipped from a glorious Mother breast
Who since high Athens fell among the rest
Sate like the Queen of Nations but in woe
By inbred monsters outraged and oppressed
Turns to her chainless child for succour now
'That land is like an Eagle whose young gaze
Feeds on the noontide beam whose golden plume
Floats moveless on the storm and in the blaze
Of sunrise gleams when Earth is wrapped in gloom
An epitaph of glory for the tomb
Of murdered Europe may thy fame be made
Great People as the sands shalt thou become
Thy growth is swift as morn when night must fade
'Yes in the desert there is built a home
For Freedom Genius is made strong to rear
The monuments of man beneath the dome
Of a new Heaven myriads assemble there
Whom the proud lords of man in rage or fear
Drive from their wasted homes the boon I pray
Is this that Cythna shall be convoyed there 
Nay start not at the name America
'With me do what ye will I am your foe
The light of such a joy as makes the stare
Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow
Shone in a hundred human eyes 'Where where
Is Laon Haste fly drag him swiftly here
We grant thy boon' 'I put no trust in ye
Swear by the Power ye dread' 'We swear we swear
The Stranger threw his vest back suddenly
The transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness
Spread through the multitudinous streets fast flying
Upon the winds of fear from his dull madness
The starveling waked and died in joy the dying
Among the corpses in stark agony lying
Just heard the happy tidings and in hope
Closed their faint eyes from house to house replying
With loud acclaim the living shook Heaven cope
Its pale eyes then and lo the long array
Of guards in golden arms and Priests beside
Singing their bloody hymns whose garbs betray
The blackness of the faith it seems to hide
And see the Tyrant gem-wrought chariot glide
Among the gloomy cowls and glittering spears 
A Shape of light is sitting by his side
A child most beautiful I' the midst appears
His head and feet are bare his hands are bound
Behind with heavy chains yet none do wreak
Their scoffs on him though myriads throng around
There are no sneers upon his lip which speak
That scorn or hate has made him bold his cheek
Resolve has not turned pale his eyes are mild
And calm and like the morn about to break
Smile on mankind his heart seems reconciled
Tumult was in the soul of all beside
Ill joy or doubt or fear but those who saw
Their tranquil victim pass felt wonder glide
Into their brain and became calm with awe 
See the slow pageant near the pile doth draw
A thousand torches in the spacious square
Borne by the ready slaves of ruthless law
Await the signal round the morning fair
And see beneath a sun-bright canopy
Upon a platform level with the pile
The anxious Tyrant sit enthroned on high
Girt by the chieftains of the host all smile
In expectation but one child the while
I Laon led by mutes ascend my bier
Of fire and look around each distant isle
Is dark in the bright dawn towers far and near
There was such silence through the host as when
An earthquake trampling on some populous town
Has crushed ten thousand with one tread and men
Expect the second all were mute but one
That fairest child who bold with love alone
Stood up before the King without avail
Pleading for Laon life her stifled groan
Was heard she trembled like one aspen pale
What were his thoughts linked in the morning sun
Among those reptiles stingless with delay
Even like a tyrant wrath The signal-gun
Roared hark again In that dread pause he lay
As in a quiet dream the slaves obey 
A thousand torches drop and hark the last
Bursts on that awful silence far away
Millions with hearts that beat both loud and fast
They fly the torches fall a cry of fear
Has startled the triumphant they recede
For ere the cannon roar has died they hear
The tramp of hoofs like earthquake and a steed
Dark and gigantic with the tempest speed
Bursts through their ranks a woman sits thereon
Fairer it seems than aught that earth can breed
Calm radiant like the phantom of the dawn
All thought it was God Angel come to sweep
The lingering guilty to their fiery grave
The Tyrant from his throne in dread did leap 
Her innocence his child from fear did save
Scared by the faith they feigned each priestly slave
Knelt for his mercy whom they served with blood
And like the refluence of a mighty wave
Sucked into the loud sea the multitude
They pause they blush they gaze a gathering shout
Bursts like one sound from the ten thousand streams
Of a tempestuous sea that sudden rout
One checked who never in his mildest dreams
Felt awe from grace or loveliness the seams
Of his rent heart so hard and cold a creed
Had seared with blistering ice but he misdeems
That he is wise whose wounds do only bleed
And others too thought he was wise to see
In pain and fear and hate something divine
In love and beauty no divinity 
Now with a bitter smile whose light did shine
Like a fiend hope upon his lips and eyne
He said and the persuasion of that sneer
Rallied his trembling comrades 'Is it mine
To stand alone when kings and soldiers fear
'Were it not impious' said the King 'to break
Our holy oath' 'Impious to keep it say
Shrieked the exulting Priest 'Slaves to the stake
Bind her and on my head the burden lay
Of her just torments at the Judgement Day
Will I stand up before the golden throne
Of Heaven and cry To Thee did I betray
An infidel but for me she would have known
They trembled but replied not nor obeyed
Pausing in breathless silence Cythna sprung
From her gigantic steed who like a shade
Chased by the winds those vacant streets among
Fled tameless as the brazen rein she flung
Upon his neck and kissed his mooned brow
A piteous sight that one so fair and young
The clasp of such a fearful death should woo
The warm tears burst in spite of faith and fear
From many a tremulous eye but like soft dews
Which feed Spring earliest buds hung gathered there
Frozen by doubt alas they could not choose
But weep for when her faint limbs did refuse
To climb the pyre upon the mutes she smiled
And with her eloquent gestures and the hues
Of her quick lips even as a weary child
She won them though unwilling her to bind
Near me among the snakes When there had fled
One soft reproach that was most thrilling kind
She smiled on me and nothing then we said
But each upon the other countenance fed
Looks of insatiate love the mighty veil
Which doth divide the living and the dead
Was almost rent the world grew dim and pale 
Yet yet one brief relapse like the last beam
Of dying flames the stainless air around
Hung silent and serene a blood-red gleam
Burst upwards hurling fiercely from the ground
The globed smoke I heard the mighty sound
Of its uprise like a tempestuous ocean
And through its chasms I saw as in a swound
The tyrant child fall without life or motion
And is this death The pyre has disappeared
The Pestilence the Tyrant and the throng
The flames grow silent slowly there is heard
The music of a breath-suspending song
Which like the kiss of love when life is young
Steeps the faint eyes in darkness sweet and deep
With ever-changing notes it floats along
Till on my passive soul there seemed to creep
The warm touch of a soft and tremulous hand
Wakened me then lo Cythna sate reclined
Beside me on the waved and golden sand
Of a clear pool upon a bank o'ertwined
With strange and star-bright flowers which to the wind
Breathed divine odour high above was spread
The emerald heaven of trees of unknown kind
Whose moonlike blooms and bright fruit overhead
And round about sloped many a lawny mountain
With incense-bearing forests and vast caves
Of marble radiance to that mighty fountain
And where the flood its own bright margin laves
Their echoes talk with its eternal waves
Which from the depths whose jagged caverns breed
Their unreposing strife it lifts and heaves 
Till through a chasm of hills they roll and feed
As we sate gazing in a trance of wonder
A boat approached borne by the musical air
Along the waves which sung and sparkled under
Its rapid keel a winged shape sate there
A child with silver-shining wings so fair
That as her bark did through the waters glide
The shadow of the lingering waves did wear
Light as from starry beams from side to side
The boat was one curved shell of hollow pearl
Almost translucent with the light divine
Of her within the prow and stern did curl
Horned on high like the young moon supine
When o'er dim twilight mountains dark with pine
It floats upon the sunset sea of beams
Whose golden waves in many a purple line
Fade fast till borne on sunlight ebbing streams
Its keel has struck the sands beside our feet 
Then Cythna turned to me and from her eyes
Which swam with unshed tears a look more sweet
Than happy love a wild and glad surprise
Glanced as she spake 'Ay this is Paradise
And not a dream and we are all united
Lo that is mine own child who in the guise
Of madness came like day to one benighted
And then she wept aloud and in her arms
Clasped that bright Shape less marvellously fair
Than her own human hues and living charms
Which as she leaned in passion silence there
Breathed warmth on the cold bosom of the air
Which seemed to blush and tremble with delight
The glossy darkness of her streaming hair
Fell o'er that snowy child and wrapped from sight
Then the bright child the plumed Seraph came
And fixed its blue and beaming eyes on mine
And said 'I was disturbed by tremulous shame
When once we met yet knew that I was thine
From the same hour in which thy lips divine
Kindled a clinging dream within my brain
Which ever waked when I might sleep to twine
Thine image with HER memory dear again
'When the consuming flames had wrapped ye round
The hope which I had cherished went away
I fell in agony on the senseless ground
And hid mine eyes in dust and far astray
My mind was gone when bright like dawning day
The Spectre of the Plague before me flew
And breathed upon my lips and seemed to say
They wait for thee beloved then I knew
'It was the calm of love for I was dying
I saw the black and half-extinguished pyre
In its own gray and shrunken ashes lying
The pitchy smoke of the departed fire
Still hung in many a hollow dome and spire
Above the towers like night beneath whose shade
Awed by the ending of their own desire
The armies stood a vacancy was made
'The frightful silence of that altered mood
The tortures of the dying clove alone
Till one uprose among the multitude
And said The flood of time is rolling on
We stand upon its brink whilst THEY are gone
To glide in peace down death mysterious stream
Have ye done well They moulder flesh and bone
Who might have made this life envenomed dream
'These perish as the good and great of yore
Have perished and their murderers will repent 
Yes vain and barren tears shall flow before
Yon smoke has faded from the firmament
Even for this cause that ye who must lament
The death of those that made this world so fair
Cannot recall them now but there is lent
To man the wisdom of a high despair
'Ay ye may fear not now the Pestilence
From fabled hell as by a charm withdrawn
All power and faith must pass since calmly hence
In pain and fire have unbelievers gone
And ye must sadly turn away and moan
In secret to his home each one returning
And to long ages shall this hour be known
And slowly shall its memory ever burning
'For me that world is grown too void and cold
Since Hope pursues immortal Destiny
With steps thus slow therefore shall ye behold
How those who love yet fear not dare to die
Tell to your children this Then suddenly
He sheathed a dagger in his heart and fell
My brain grew dark in death and yet to me
There came a murmur from the crowd to tell
'Then suddenly I stood a winged Thought
Before the immortal Senate and the seat
Of that star-shining spirit whence is wrought
The strength of its dominion good and great
The better Genius of this world estate
His realm around one mighty Fane is spread
Elysian islands bright and fortunate
Calm dwellings of the free and happy dead
And with the silence of her eloquent smile
Bade us embark in her divine canoe
Then at the helm we took our seat the while
Above her head those plumes of dazzling hue
Into the winds' invisible stream she threw
Sitting beside the prow like gossamer
On the swift breath of morn the vessel flew
O'er the bright whirlpools of that fountain fair
Till down that mighty stream dark calm and fleet
Between a chasm of cedarn mountains riven
Chased by the thronging winds whose viewless feet
As swift as twinkling beams had under Heaven
From woods and waves wild sounds and odours driven
The boat fled visibly three nights and days
Borne like a cloud through morn and noon and even
We sailed along the winding watery ways
A scene of joy and wonder to behold
That river shapes and shadows changing ever
Where the broad sunrise filled with deepening gold
Its whirlpools where all hues did spread and quiver
And where melodious falls did burst and shiver
Among rocks clad with flowers the foam and spray
Sparkled like stars upon the sunny river
Or when the moonlight poured a holier day
Morn noon and even that boat of pearl outran
The streams which bore it like the arrowy cloud
Of tempest or the speedier thought of man
Which flieth forth and cannot make abode
Sometimes through forests deep like night we glode
Between the walls of mighty mountains crowned
With Cyclopean piles whose turrets proud
The homes of the departed dimly frowned
Sometimes between the wide and flowering meadows
Mile after mile we sailed and 'twas delight
To see far off the sunbeams chase the shadows
Over the grass sometimes beneath the night
Of wide and vaulted caves whose roofs were bright
With starry gems we fled whilst from their deep
And dark-green chasms shades beautiful and white
Amid sweet sounds across our path would sweep
And ever as we sailed our minds were full
Of love and wisdom which would overflow
In converse wild and sweet and wonderful
And in quick smiles whose light would come and go
Like music o'er wide waves and in the flow
Of sudden tears and in the mute caress 
For a deep shade was cleft and we did know
That virtue though obscured on Earth not less
Three days and nights we sailed as thought and feeling
Number delightful hours for through the sky
The sphered lamps of day and night revealing
New changes and new glories rolled on high
Sun Moon and moonlike lamps the progeny
Of a diviner Heaven serene and fair
On the fourth day wild as a windwrought sea
The stream became and fast and faster bare
Steady and swift where the waves rolled like mountains
Within the vast ravine whose rifts did pour
Tumultuous floods from their ten thousand fountains
The thunder of whose earth-uplifting roar
Made the air sweep in whirlwinds from the shore
Calm as a shade the boat of that fair child
Securely fled that rapid stress before
Amid the topmost spray and sunbows wild
The torrent of that wide and raging river
Is passed and our aereal speed suspended
We look behind a golden mist did quiver
When its wild surges with the lake were blended 
Our bark hung there as on a line suspended
Between two heavens that windless waveless lake
Which four great cataracts from four vales attended
By mists aye feed from rocks and clouds they break
Motionless resting on the lake awhile
I saw its marge of snow-bright mountains rear
Their peaks aloft I saw each radiant isle
And in the midst afar even like a sphere
Hung in one hollow sky did there appear
The Temple of the Spirit on the sound
Which issued thence drawn nearer and more near
Like the swift moon this glorious earth around
Where are those honours IDA once your own
When Probus fill'd your magisterial throne
As ancient Rome fast falling to disgrace
Hail'd a Barbarian in her Caesar place
So you degenerate share as hard a fate
And seat Pomposus where your Probus sate
Of narrow brain yet of a narrower soul
Pomposus holds you in his harsh controul
Pomposus by no social virtue sway'd
With florid jargon and with vain parade
With noisy nonsense and new-fangled rules
Such as were ne'er before enforc'd in schools
Mistaking pedantry for learning laws
He governs sanction'd but by self-applause
With him the same dire fate attending Rome
Ill-fated Ida soon must stamp your doom
Like her o'erthrown for ever lost to fame
No trace of science left you but the name
Oh Friend for ever lov'd for ever dear
What fruitless tears have bathed thy honour'd bier
What sighs re-echo'd to thy parting breath
Whilst thou wast struggling in the pangs of death
Could tears retard the tyrant in his course
Could sighs avert his dart relentless force
Could youth and virtue claim a short delay
Or beauty charm the spectre from his prey
Thou still hadst liv'd to bless my aching sight
Thy comrade honour and thy friend delight
If yet thy gentle spirit hover nigh
The spot where now thy mouldering ashes lie
Here wilt thou read recorded on my heart
A grief too deep to trust the sculptor art
No marble marks thy couch of lowly sleep
But living statues there are seen to weep
Affliction semblance bends not o'er thy tomb
Affliction self deplores thy youthful doom
What though thy sire lament his failing line
A father sorrows cannot equal mine
Though none like thee his dying hour will cheer
Yet other offspring soothe his anguish here
But who with me shall hold thy former place
Thine image what new friendship can efface
Ah none a father tears will cease to flow
Time will assuage an infant brother woe
To all save one is consolation known
While solitary Friendship sighs alone
igh in the midst surrounded by his peers
Magnus
Plac'd on his chair of state he seems a God
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod
As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom
His voice in thunder shakes the sounding dome
Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools
Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules
Happy the youth in Euclid axioms tried
Though little vers'd in any art beside
Who scarcely skill'd an English line to pen
Scans Attic metres with a critic ken
What though he knows not how his fathers bled
When civil discord pil'd the fields with dead
When Edward bade his conquering bands advance
Or Henry trampled on the crest of France
Though marvelling at the name of Magna Charta
Yet well he recollects the laws of Sparta
Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus made
While Blackstone on the shelf neglected laid
Of Grecian dramas vaunts the deathless fame
Of Avon bard rememb'ring scarce the name
Such is the youth whose scientific pate
Class-honours medals fellowships await
Or even perhaps the declamation prize
If to such glorious height he lifts his eyes
But lo no common orator can hope
The envied silver cup within his scope
Not that our heads much eloquence require
Th' ATHENIAN'S glowing style or TULLY'S fire
A manner clear or warm is useless since
We do not try by speaking to convince
Be other orators of pleasing proud 
We speak to please ourselves not move the crowd
Our gravity prefers the muttering tone
A proper mixture of the squeak and groan
No borrow'd grace of action must be seen
The slightest motion would displease the Dean
Whilst every staring Graduate would prate
Against what he could never imitate
The man who hopes t' obtain the promis'd cup
Must in one posture stand and ne'er look up
Nor stop but rattle over every word 
No matter what so it can not be heard
Thus let him hurry on nor think to rest
Who speaks the fastest sure to speak the best
Who utters most within the shortest space
May safely hope to win the wordy race
The Sons of Science these who thus repaid
Linger in ease in Granta sluggish shade
Where on Cam sedgy banks supine they lie
Unknown unhonour'd live unwept for die
Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls
They think all learning fix'd within their walls
In manners rude in foolish forms precise
All modern arts affecting to despise
Yet prizing Bentley Brunck or Porson's
More than the verse on which the critic wrote
Vain as their honours heavy as their Ale
Sad as their wit and tedious as their tale
To friendship dead though not untaught to feel
When Self and Church demand a Bigot zeal
With eager haste they court the lord of power
Whether 'tis PITT or PETTY rules the hour
To him with suppliant smiles they bend the head
While distant mitres to their eyes are spread
But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace
They'd fly to seek the next who fill'd his place
Such are the men who learning treasures guard
Such is their practice such is their reward
This much at least we may presume to say 
The premium can't exceed the price they pay 
Oh factious viper whose envenom'd tooth
Would mangle still the dead perverting truth
What though our nation foes lament the fate
With generous feeling of the good and great
Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name
Of him whose meed exists in endless fame
When PITT expir'd in plenitude of power
Though ill success obscur'd his dying hour
Pity her dewy wings before him spread
For noble spirits war not with the dead
His friends in tears a last sad requiem gave
As all his errors slumber'd in the grave
He sunk an Atlas bending 'neath the weight
Of cares o'erwhelming our conflicting state
When lo a Hercules in Fox appear'd
Who for a time the ruin'd fabric rear'd
He too is fall'n who Britain loss supplied
With him our fast reviving hopes have died
Not one great people only raise his urn
All Europe far-extended regions mourn
These feelings wide let Sense and Truth undue
To give the palm where Justice points its due
Yet let not canker'd Calumny assail
Or round her statesman wind her gloomy veil
FOX o'er whose corse a mourning world must weep
Whose dear remains in honour'd marble sleep
For whom at last e'en hostile nations groan
While friends and foes alike his talents own 
Fox shall in Britain future annals shine
Nor e'en to PITT the patriot 'palm' resign
Which Envy wearing Candour sacred mask
For PITT and PITT alone has dar'd to ask
Since the refinement of this polish'd age
Has swept immoral raillery from the stage
Since taste has now expung'd licentious wit
Which stamp'd disgrace on all an author writ
Since now to please with purer scenes we seek
Nor dare to call the blush from Beauty cheek
Oh let the modest Muse some pity claim
And meet indulgence though she find not fame
Still not for her alone we wish respect
Others appear more conscious of defect
To-night no vet'ran Roscii you behold
In all the arts of scenic action old
No COOKE no KEMBLE can salute you here
No SIDDONS draw the sympathetic tear
To-night you throng to witness the debut
Of embryo Actors to the Drama new
Here then our almost unfledg'd wings we try
Clip not our pinions ere the birds can fly
Failing in this our first attempt to soar
Drooping alas we fall to rise no more
Not one poor trembler only fear betrays
Who hopes yet almost dreads to meet your praise
But all our Dramatis Personae wait
In fond suspense this crisis of their fate
No venal views our progress can retard
Your generous plaudits are our sole reward
For these each Hero all his power displays
Each timid Heroine shrinks before your gaze
Surely the last will some protection find
None to the softer sex can prove unkind
While Youth and Beauty form the female shield
The sternest Censor to the fair must yield
Yet should our feeble efforts nought avail
Should after all our best endeavours fail
Still let some mercy in your bosoms live
And if you can't applaud at least forgive
hen slow Disease with all her host of Pains
Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins
When Health affrighted spreads her rosy wing
And flies with every changing gale of spring
Not to the aching frame alone confin'd
Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind
What grisly forms the spectre-train of woe
Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow
With Resignation wage relentless strife
While Hope retires appall'd and clings to life
Yet less the pang when through the tedious hour
Remembrance sheds around her genial power
Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given
When Love was bliss and Beauty form'd our heaven
Or dear to youth pourtrays each childish scene
Those fairy bowers where all in turn have been
As when through clouds that pour the summer storm
The orb of day unveils his distant form
Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain
And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain
Thus while the future dark and cheerless gleams
The Sun of Memory glowing through my dreams
Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze
To scenes far distant points his paler rays
Still rules my senses with unbounded sway
The past confounding with the present day
Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought
Which still recurs unlook'd for and unsought
My soul to Fancy fond suggestion yields
And roams romantic o'er her airy fields
Scenes of my youth develop'd crowd to view
To which I long have bade a last adieu
Seats of delight inspiring youthful themes
Friends lost to me for aye except in dreams
Some who in marble prematurely sleep
Whose forms I now remember but to weep
Some who yet urge the same scholastic course
Of early science future fame the source
Who still contending in the studious race
In quick rotation fill the senior place
These with a thousand visions now unite
To dazzle though they please my aching sight
IDA blest spot where Science holds her reign
How joyous once I join'd thy youthful train
Bright in idea gleams thy lofty spire
Again I mingle with thy playful quire
Our tricks of mischief every childish game
Unchang'd by time or distance seem the same
Through winding paths along the glade I trace
The social smile of every welcome face
My wonted haunts my scenes of joy or woe
Each early boyish friend or youthful foe
Our feuds dissolv'd but not my friendship past 
I bless the former and forgive the last
Hours of my youth when nurtur'd in my breast
To Love a stranger Friendship made me blest 
Friendship the dear peculiar bond of youth
When every artless bosom throbs with truth
Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign
And check each impulse with prudential rein
When all we feel our honest souls disclose
In love to friends in open hate to foes
No varnish'd tales the lips of youth repeat
No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit
Hypocrisy the gift of lengthen'd years
Matured by age the garb of Prudence wears
When now the Boy is ripen'd into Man
His careful Sire chalks forth some wary plan
Instructs his Son from Candour path to shrink
Smoothly to speak and cautiously to think
Still to assent and never to deny 
A patron praise can well reward the lie
And who when Fortune warning voice is heard
Would lose his opening prospects for a word
Although against that word his heart rebel
And Truth indignant all his bosom swell
Away with themes like this not mine the task
From flattering friends to tear the hateful mask
Let keener bards delight in Satire sting
My Fancy soars not on Detraction wing
Once and but once she aim'd a deadly blow
To hurl Defiance on a secret Foe
But when that foe from feeling or from shame
The cause unknown yet still to me the same
Warn'd by some friendly hint perchance retir'd
With this submission all her rage expired
From dreaded pangs that feeble Foe to save
She hush'd her young resentment and forgave
Or if my Muse a Pedant portrait drew
POMPOSUS' virtues are but known to few
I never fear'd the young usurper nod
And he who wields must sometimes feel the rod
If since on Granta failings known to all
Who share the converse of a college hall
She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain
'Tis past and thus she will not sin again
Soon must her early song for ever cease
And all may rail when I shall rest in peace
Here first remember'd be the joyous band
Who hail'd me chief obedient to command
Who join'd with me in every boyish sport
Their first adviser and their last resort
Nor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant frown
Or all the sable glories of his gown
Who thus transplanted from his father school
Unfit to govern ignorant of rule 
Succeeded him whom all unite to praise
The dear preceptor of my early days
PROBUS the pride of science and the boast 
To IDA now alas for ever lost
With him for years we search'd the classic page
And fear'd the Master though we lov'd the Sage
Retir'd at last his small yet peaceful seat
From learning labour is the blest retreat
POMPOSUS fills his magisterial chair
POMPOSUS governs but my Muse forbear
Contempt in silence be the pedant lot
His name and precepts be alike forgot
No more his mention shall my verse degrade 
To him my tribute is already paid
High through those elms with hoary branches crown'd
Fair IDA'S bower adorns the landscape round
There Science from her favour'd seat surveys
The vale where rural Nature claims her praise
To her awhile resigns her youthful train
Who move in joy and dance along the plain
In scatter'd groups each favour'd haunt pursue
Repeat old pastimes and discover new
Flush'd with his rays beneath the noontide Sun
In rival bands between the wickets run
Drive o'er the sward the ball with active force
Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course
But these with slower steps direct their way
Where Brent cool waves in limpid currents stray
While yonder few search out some green retreat
And arbours shade them from the summer heat
Others again a pert and lively crew
Some rough and thoughtless stranger plac'd in view
With frolic quaint their antic jests expose
And tease the grumbling rustic as he goes
Nor rest with this but many a passing fray
Tradition treasures for a future day
'Twas here the gather'd swains for vengeance fought
And here we earn'd the conquest dearly bought
Here have we fled before superior might
And here renew'd the wild tumultuous fight
While thus our souls with early passions swell
In lingering tones resounds the distant bell
Th' allotted hour of daily sport is o'er
And Learning beckons from her temple door
No splendid tablets grace her simple hall
But ruder records fill the dusky wall
There deeply carv'd behold each Tyro name
Secures its owner academic fame
Here mingling view the names of Sire and Son
The one long grav'd the other just begun
These shall survive alike when Son and Sire
Beneath one common stroke of fate expire
Perhaps their last memorial these alone
Denied in death a monumental stone
Whilst to the gale in mournful cadence wave
The sighing weeds that hide their nameless grave
And here my name and many an early friend's
Along the wall in lengthen'd line extends
Though still our deeds amuse the youthful race
Who tread our steps and fill our former place
Who young obeyed their lords in silent awe
Whose nod commanded and whose voice was law
And now in turn possess the reins of power
To rule the little Tyrants of an hour
Though sometimes with the Tales of ancient day
They pass the dreary Winter eve away
And thus our former rulers stemm'd the tide
And thus they dealt the combat side by side
Just in this place the mouldering walls they scaled
Nor bolts nor bars against their strength avail'd
Here PROBUS came the rising fray to quell
And here he falter'd forth his last farewell
And here one night abroad they dared to roam
While bold POMPOSUS bravely staid at home
While thus they speak the hour must soon arrive
When names of these like ours alone survive
Yet a few years one general wreck will whelm
The faint remembrance of our fairy realm
Dear honest race though now we meet no more
One last long look on what we were before 
Our first kind greetings and our last adieu 
Drew tears from eyes unus'd to weep with you
Through splendid circles Fashion gaudy world
Where Folly glaring standard waves unfurl'd
I plung'd to drown in noise my fond regret
And all I sought or hop'd was to forget
Vain wish if chance some well-remember'd face
Some old companion of my early race
Advanc'd to claim his friend with honest joy
My eyes my heart proclaim'd me still a boy
The glittering scene the fluttering groups around
Were quite forgotten when my friend was found
The smiles of Beauty for alas I've known
What 'tis to bend before Love mighty throne
The smiles of Beauty though those smiles were dear
Could hardly charm me when that friend was near
My thoughts bewilder'd in the fond surprise
The woods of IDA danc'd before my eyes
I saw the sprightly wand'rers pour along
I saw and join'd again the joyous throng
Panting again I trac'd her lofty grove
And Friendship feelings triumph'd over Love
Yet why should I alone with such delight
Retrace the circuit of my former flight
Is there no cause beyond the common claim
Endear'd to all in childhood very name
Ah sure some stronger impulse vibrates here
Which whispers friendship will be doubly dear
To one who thus for kindred hearts must roam
And seek abroad the love denied at home
Those hearts dear IDA have I found in thee
A home a world a paradise to me
Stern Death forbade my orphan youth to share
The tender guidance of a Father care
Can Rank or e'en a Guardian name supply
The love which glistens in a Father eye
For this can Wealth or Title sound atone
Made by a Parent early loss my own
What Brother springs a Brother love to seek
What Sister gentle kiss has prest my cheek
For me how dull the vacant moments rise
To no fond bosom link'd by kindred ties
Oft in the progress of some fleeting dream
Fraternal smiles collected round me seem
While still the visions to my heart are prest
The voice of Love will murmur in my rest
I hear I wake and in the sound rejoice
I hear again but ah no Brother voice
A Hermit 'midst of crowds I fain must stray
Alone though thousand pilgrims fill the way
While these a thousand kindred wreaths entwine
I cannot call one single blossom mine
What then remains in solitude to groan
To mix in friendship or to sigh alone
Thus must I cling to some endearing hand
And none more dear than IDA'S social band
Thy name ennobles him who thus commends
From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise
The praise is his who now that tribute pays
Oh in the promise of thy early youth
If Hope anticipate the words of Truth
Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name
To build his own upon thy deathless fame
Friend of my heart and foremost of the list
Of those with whom I lived supremely blest
Oft have we drain'd the font of ancient lore
Though drinking deeply thirsting still the more
Yet when Confinement lingering hour was done
Our sports our studies and our souls were one
Together we impell'd the flying ball
Together waited in our tutor hall
Together join'd in cricket manly toil
Or shar'd the produce of the river spoil
Or plunging from the green declining shore
Our pliant limbs the buoyant billows bore
In every element unchang'd the same
All all that brothers should be but the name
Nor yet are you forgot my jocund Boy
DAVUS the harbinger of childish joy
For ever foremost in the ranks of fun
The laughing herald of the harmless pun
Yet with a breast of such materials made
Anxious to please of pleasing half afraid
Candid and liberal with a heart of steel
In Danger path though not untaught to feel
Still I remember in the factious strife
The rustic musket aim'd against my life
High pois'd in air the massy weapon hung
A cry of horror burst from every tongue
Whilst I in combat with another foe
Fought on unconscious of th' impending blow
Your arm brave Boy arrested his career 
Forward you sprung insensible to fear
Disarm'd and baffled by your conquering hand
The grovelling Savage roll'd upon the sand
An act like this can simple thanks repay
Or all the labours of a grateful lay
Oh no whene'er my breast forgets the deed
That instant DAVUS it deserves to bleed
LYCUS on me thy claims are justly great
Thy milder virtues could my Muse relate
To thee alone unrivall'd would belong
The feeble efforts of my lengthen'd song
Well canst thou boast to lead in senates fit
A Spartan firmness with Athenian wit
Though yet in embryo these perfections shine
LYCUS thy father fame will soon be thine
Where Learning nurtures the superior mind
What may we hope from genius thus refin'd
When Time at length matures thy growing years
How wilt thou tower above thy fellow peers
Prudence and sense a spirit bold and free
With Honour soul united beam in thee
Shall fair EURYALUS pass by unsung
From ancient lineage not unworthy sprung
What though one sad dissension bade us part
That name is yet embalm'd within my heart
Yet at the mention does that heart rebound
And palpitate responsive to the sound
Envy dissolved our ties and not our will
We once were friends I'll think we are so still
A form unmatch'd in Nature partial mould
A heart untainted we in thee behold
Yet not the Senate thunder thou shall wield
Nor seek for glory in the tented field
To minds of ruder texture these be given 
Thy soul shall nearer soar its native heaven
Haply in polish'd courts might be thy seat
But that thy tongue could never forge deceit
The courtier supple bow and sneering smile
The flow of compliment the slippery wile
Would make that breast with indignation burn
And all the glittering snares to tempt thee spurn
Domestic happiness will stamp thy fate
Sacred to love unclouded e'er by hate
The world admire thee and thy friends adore 
Ambition slave alone would toil for more
Now last but nearest of the social band
See honest open generous CLEON stand
With scarce one speck to cloud the pleasing scene
No vice degrades that purest soul serene
On the same day our studious race begun
On the same day our studious race was run
Thus side by side we pass'd our first career
Thus side by side we strove for many a year
At last concluded our scholastic life
We neither conquer'd in the classic strife
As Speakers
And crowds allow to both a partial fame
To soothe a youthful Rival early pride
Though Cleon candour would the palm divide
Yet Candour self compels me now to own
Justice awards it to my Friend alone
Oh Friends regretted Scenes for ever dear
Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear
Drooping she bends o'er pensive Fancy urn
To trace the hours which never can return
Yet with the retrospection loves to dwell
And soothe the sorrows of her last farewell
Yet greets the triumph of my boyish mind
As infant laurels round my head were twin'd
When PROBUS' praise repaid my lyric song
Or plac'd me higher in the studious throng
Or when my first harangue receiv'd applause
His sage instruction the primeval cause
What gratitude to him my soul possest
While hope of dawning honours fill'd my breast
For all my humble fame to him alone
The praise is due who made that fame my own
Oh could I soar above these feeble lays
These young effusions of my early days
To him my Muse her noblest strain would give
The song might perish but the theme might live
Yet why for him the needless verse essay
His honour'd name requires no vain display
By every son of grateful IDA blest
It finds an echo in each youthful breast
A fame beyond the glories of the proud
Or all the plaudits of the venal crowd
IDA not yet exhausted is the theme
Nor clos'd the progress of my youthful dream
How many a friend deserves the grateful strain
What scenes of childhood still unsung remain
Yet let me hush this echo of the past
This parting song the dearest and the last
And brood in secret o'er those hours of joy
To me a silent and a sweet employ
While future hope and fear alike unknown
I think with pleasure on the past alone
Yes to the past alone my heart confine
And chase the phantom of what once was mine
IDA still o'er thy hills in joy preside
And proudly steer through Time eventful tide
Still may thy blooming Sons thy name revere
Smile in thy bower but quit thee with a tear 
That tear perhaps the fondest which will flow
O'er their last scene of happiness below
Tell me ye hoary few who glide along
The feeble Veterans of some former throng
Whose friends like Autumn leaves by tempests whirl'd
Are swept for ever from this busy world
Revolve the fleeting moments of your youth
While Care has yet withheld her venom'd tooth
Say if Remembrance days like these endears
Beyond the rapture of succeeding years
Say can Ambition fever'd dream bestow
So sweet a balm to soothe your hours of woe
Can Treasures hoarded for some thankless Son
Can Royal Smiles or Wreaths by slaughter won
Can Stars or Ermine Man maturer Toys
For glittering baubles are not left to Boys
Recall one scene so much belov'd to view
As those where Youth her garland twin'd for you
Ah no amid the gloomy calm of age
You turn with faltering hand life varied page
Peruse the record of your days on earth
Unsullied only where it marks your birth
Still lingering pause above each chequer'd leaf
And blot with Tears the sable lines of Grief
Where Passion o'er the theme her mantle threw
Or weeping Virtue sigh'd a faint adieu
But bless the scroll which fairer words adorn
Trac'd by the rosy finger of the Morn
When Friendship bow'd before the shrine of truth
And Love without his pinion smil'd on Youth
'Hence thou unvarying song of varied loves
Which youth commends maturer age reproves
Which every rhyming bard repeats by rote
By thousands echo'd to the self-same note
Tir'd of the dull unceasing copious strain
My soul is panting to be free again
Farewell ye nymphs propitious to my verse
Some other Damon will your charms rehearse
Some other paint his pangs in hope of bliss
Or dwell in rapture on your nectar'd kiss
Those beauties grateful to my ardent sight
No more entrance my senses in delight
Those bosoms form'd of animated snow
Alike are tasteless and unfeeling now
These to some happier lover I resign
The memory of those joys alone is mine
Censure no more shall brand my humble name
The child of passion and the fool of fame
Weary of love of life devoured with spleen
I rest a perfect Timon not nineteen
World I renounce thee all my hope o'ercast
One sigh I give thee but that sigh the last
Friends foes and females now alike adieu
Would I could add remembrance of you too
Yet though the future dark and cheerless gleams
The curse of memory hovering in my dreams
Depicts with glowing pencil all those years
Ere yet my cup empoison'd flow'd with tears
Still rules my senses with tyrannic sway
The past confounding with the present day
'When yet a novice in the mimic art
I feign'd the transports of a vengeful heart
When as the Royal Slave I trod the stage
To vent in Zanga more than mortal rage
The praise of Probus made me feel more proud
Than all the plaudits of the list'ning crowd
Ah vain endeavour in this childish strain
To soothe the woes of which I thus complain
What can avail this fruitless loss of time
To measure sorrow in a jingling rhyme
No social solace from a friend is near
And heartless strangers drop no feeling tear
I seek not joy in Woman sparkling eye
The smiles of Beauty cannot check the sigh
Adieu thou world thy pleasure still a dream
Thy virtue but a visionary theme
Thy years of vice on years of folly roll
Till grinning death assigns the destin'd goal
'Where all are hastening to the dread abode
To meet the judgment of a righteous God
Mix'd in the concourse of a thoughtless throng
A mourner midst of mirth I glide along
A wretched isolated gloomy thing
Curst by reflection deep corroding sting
But not that mental sting which stabs within
The dark avenger of unpunish'd sin
The silent shaft which goads the guilty wretch
Extended on a rack untiring stretch
Conscience that sting that shaft to him supplies 
His mind the rack from which he ne'er can rise
For me whatever my folly or my fear
One cheerful comfort still is cherish'd here
No dread internal haunts my hours of rest
No dreams of injured innocence infest
Of hope of peace of almost all bereft
Conscience my last but welcome guest is left
Slander empoison'd breath may blast my name
Envy delights to blight the buds of fame
Deceit may chill the current of my blood
And freeze affection warm impassion'd flood
Presaging horror darken every sense
Even here will conscience be my best defence
My bosom feeds no worm which ne'er can die
Not crimes I mourn but happiness gone by
Thus crawling on with many a reptile vile
My heart is bitter though my cheek may smile
No more with former bliss my heart is glad
Hope yields to anguish and my soul is sad
From fond regret no future joy can save
Remembrance slumbers only in the grave
Candour compels me BECHER to commend
The verse which blends the censor with the friend
Your strong yet just reproof extorts applause
From me the heedless and imprudent cause
For this wild error which pervades my strain
I sue for pardon must I sue in vain
The wise sometimes from Wisdom ways depart
Can youth then hush the dictates of the heart
Precepts of prudence curb but can't controul
The fierce emotions of the flowing soul
When Love delirium haunts the glowing mind
Limping Decorum lingers far behind
Vainly the dotard mends her prudish pace
Outstript and vanquish'd in the mental chase
The young the old have worn the chains of love
Let those they ne'er confined my lay reprove
Let those whose souls contemn the pleasing power
Their censures on the hapless victim shower
Oh how I hate the nerveless frigid song
The ceaseless echo of the rhyming throng
Whose labour'd lines in chilling numbers flow
To paint a pang the author ne'er can know
The artless Helicon I boast is youth 
My Lyre the Heart my Muse the simple Truth
Far be't from me the virgin mind to taint
Seduction dread is here no slight restraint
The maid whose virgin breast is void of guile
Whose wishes dimple in a modest smile
Whose downcast eye disdains the wanton leer
Firm in her virtue strength yet not severe
She whom a conscious grace shall thus refine
Will ne'er be tainted by a strain of mine
But for the nymph whose premature desires
Torment her bosom with unholy fires
No net to snare her willing heart is spread
She would have fallen though she ne'er had read
For me I fain would please the chosen few
Whose souls to feeling and to nature true
Will spare the childish verse and not destroy
The light effusions of a heedless boy
I seek not glory from the senseless crowd
Of fancied laurels I shall ne'er be proud
Their warmest plaudits I would scarcely prize
Their sneers or censures I alike despise
NEWSTEAD fast-falling once-resplendent dome
Religion shrine repentant HENRY'S pride
Of Warriors Monks and Dames the cloister'd tomb
Whose pensive shades around thy ruins glide
Hail to thy pile more honour'd in thy fall
Than modern mansions in their pillar'd state
Proudly majestic frowns thy vaulted hall
Scowling defiance on the blasts of fate
No mail-clad Serfs obedient to their Lord
In grim array the crimson cross demand
Or gay assemble round the festive board
Their chief retainers an immortal band
Else might inspiring Fancy magic eye
Retrace their progress through the lapse of time
Marking each ardent youth ordain'd to die
A votive pilgrim in Judea clime
But not from thee dark pile departs the Chief
His feudal realm in other regions lay
In thee the wounded conscience courts relief
Retiring from the garish blaze of day
Yes in thy gloomy cells and shades profound
The monk abjur'd a world he ne'er could view
Or blood-stain'd Guilt repenting solace found
Or Innocence from stern Oppression flew
A Monarch bade thee from that wild arise
Where Sherwood outlaws once were wont to prowl
And Superstition crimes of various dyes
Sought shelter in the Priest protecting cowl
Where now the grass exhales a murky dew
The humid pall of life-extinguish'd clay
In sainted fame the sacred Fathers grew
Nor raised their pious voices but to pray
Where now the bats their wavering wings extend
Soon as the gloaming
The choir did oft their mingling vespers blend
Or matin orisons to Mary paid
Years roll on years to ages ages yield
Abbots to Abbots in a line succeed
Religion charter their protecting shield
Till royal sacrilege their doom decreed
One holy HENRY rear'd the Gothic walls
And bade the pious inmates rest in peace
Another HENRY the kind gift recalls
And bids devotion hallow'd echoes cease
Vain is each threat or supplicating prayer
He drives them exiles from their blest abode
To roam a dreary world in deep despair 
No friend no home no refuge but their God
Hark how the hall resounding to the strain
Shakes with the martial music novel din
The heralds of a warrior haughty reign
High crested banners wave thy walls within
Of changing sentinels the distant hum
The mirth of feasts the clang of burnish'd arms
The braying trumpet and the hoarser drum
Unite in concert with increas'd alarms
An abbey once a regal fortress now
Encircled by insulting rebel powers
War dread machines o'erhang thy threat'ning brow
And dart destruction in sulphureous showers
Ah vain defence the hostile traitor siege
Though oft repuls'd by guile o'ercomes the brave
His thronging foes oppress the faithful Liege
Rebellion reeking standards o'er him wave
Not unaveng'd the raging Baron yields
The blood of traitors smears the purple plain
Unconquer'd still his falchion there he wields
And days of glory yet for him remain
Still in that hour the warrior wish'd to strew
Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave
But Charles' protecting genius hither flew
The monarch friend the monarch hope to save
Trembling she snatch'd him from th' unequal strife
In other fields the torrent to repel
For nobler combats here reserv'd his life
To lead the band where godlike FALKLAND fell
From thee poor pile to lawless plunder given
While dying groans their painful requiem sound
Far different incense now ascends to Heaven
Such victims wallow on the gory ground
There many a pale and ruthless Robber corse
Noisome and ghast defiles thy sacred sod
O'er mingling man and horse commix'd with horse
Corruption heap the savage spoilers trod
Graves long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread
Ransack'd resign perforce their mortal mould
From ruffian fangs escape not e'en the dead
Racked from repose in search for buried gold
Hush'd is the harp unstrung the warlike lyre
The minstrel palsied hand reclines in death
No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire
Or sings the glories of the martial wreath
At length the sated murderers gorged with prey
Retire the clamour of the fight is o'er
Silence again resumes her awful sway
And sable Horror guards the massy door
Here Desolation holds her dreary court
What satellites declare her dismal reign
Shrieking their dirge ill-omen'd birds resort
To flit their vigils in the hoary fane
Soon a new Morn restoring beams dispel
The clouds of Anarchy from Britain skies
The fierce Usurper seeks his native hell
And Nature triumphs as the Tyrant dies
With storms she welcomes his expiring groans
Whirlwinds responsive greet his labouring breath
Earth shudders as her caves receive his bones
Loathing the offering of so dark a death
The legal Ruler now resumes the helm
He guides through gentle seas the prow of state
Hope cheers with wonted smiles the peaceful realm
And heals the bleeding wounds of wearied Hate
The gloomy tenants Newstead of thy cells
Howling resign their violated nest
Again the Master on his tenure dwells
Enjoy'd from absence with enraptured zest
Vassals within thy hospitable pale
Loudly carousing bless their Lord return
Culture again adorns the gladdening vale
And matrons once lamenting cease to mourn
A thousand songs on tuneful echo float
Unwonted foliage mantles o'er the trees
And hark the horns proclaim a mellow note
The hunters' cry hangs lengthening on the breeze
Beneath their coursers' hoofs the valleys shake
What fears what anxious hopes attend the chase
The dying stag seeks refuge in the lake
Exulting shouts announce the finish'd race
Ah happy days too happy to endure
Such simple sports our plain forefathers knew
No splendid vices glitter'd to allure
Their joys were many as their cares were few
From these descending Sons to Sires succeed
Time steals along and Death uprears his dart
Another Chief impels the foaming steed
Another Crowd pursue the panting hart
Newstead what saddening change of scene is thine
Thy yawning arch betokens slow decay
The last and youngest of a noble line
Now holds thy mouldering turrets in his sway
Deserted now he scans thy gray worn towers
Thy vaults where dead of feudal ages sleep
Thy cloisters pervious to the wintry showers
These these he views and views them but to weep
Yet are his tears no emblem of regret
Cherish'd Affection only bids them flow
Pride Hope and Love forbid him to forget
But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow
Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes
Or gewgaw grottos of the vainly great
Yet lingers 'mid thy damp and mossy tombs
Nor breathes a murmur 'gainst the will of Fate
Haply thy sun emerging yet may shine
Thee to irradiate with meridian ray
Hours splendid as the past may still be thine
And bless thy future as thy former day
Nisus the guardian of the portal stood
Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood
Well skill'd in fight the quivering lance to wield
Or pour his arrows thro' th' embattled field
From Ida torn he left his sylvan cave
And sought a foreign home a distant grave
To watch the movements of the Daunian host
With him Euryalus sustains the post
No lovelier mien adorn'd the ranks of Troy
And beardless bloom yet grac'd the gallant boy
Though few the seasons of his youthful life
As yet a novice in the martial strife
'Twas his with beauty Valour gifts to share 
A soul heroic as his form was fair
These burn with one pure flame of generous love
In peace in war united still they move
Friendship and Glory form their joint reward
And now combin'd they hold their nightly guard
What God exclaim'd the first instils this fire
Or in itself a God what great desire
My lab'ring soul with anxious thought oppress'd
Abhors this station of inglorious rest
The love of fame with this can ill accord
Be't mine to seek for glory with my sword
See'st thou yon camp with torches twinkling dim
Where drunken slumbers wrap each lazy limb
Where confidence and ease the watch disdain
And drowsy Silence holds her sable reign
Then hear my thought In deep and sullen grief
Our troops and leaders mourn their absent chief
Now could the gifts and promised prize be thine
The deed the danger and the fame be mine
Were this decreed beneath yon rising mound
Methinks an easy path perchance were found
Which past I speed my way to Pallas' walls
And lead AEneas from Evander halls
With equal ardour fir'd and warlike joy
His glowing friend address'd the Dardan boy 
These deeds my Nisus shalt thou dare alone
Must all the fame the peril be thine own
Am I by thee despis'd and left afar
As one unfit to share the toils of war
Not thus his son the great Opheltes taught
Not thus my sire in Argive combats fought
Not thus when Ilion fell by heavenly hate
I track'd AEneas through the walks of fate
Thou know'st my deeds my breast devoid of fear
And hostile life-drops dim my gory spear
Here is a soul with hope immortal burns
And life ignoble life for Glory spurns
Fame fame is cheaply earn'd by fleeting breath
The price of honour is the sleep of death
Then Nisus Calm thy bosom fond alarms
Thy heart beats fiercely to the din of arms
More dear thy worth and valour than my own
I swear by him who fills Olympus' throne
So may I triumph as I speak the truth
And clasp again the comrade of my youth
But should I fall and he who dares advance
Through hostile legions must abide by chance 
If some Rutulian arm with adverse blow
Should lay the friend who ever lov'd thee low
Live thou such beauties I would fain preserve 
Thy budding years a lengthen'd term deserve
When humbled in the dust let some one be
Whose gentle eyes will shed one tear for me
Whose manly arm may snatch me back by force
Or wealth redeem from foes my captive corse
Or if my destiny these last deny
If in the spoiler power my ashes lie
Thy pious care may raise a simple tomb
To mark thy love and signalise my doom
Why should thy doating wretched mother weep
Her only boy reclin'd in endless sleep
Who for thy sake the tempest fury dar'd
Who for thy sake war deadly peril shar'd
Who brav'd what woman never brav'd before
And left her native for the Latian shore
In vain you damp the ardour of my soul
Replied Euryalus it scorns controul
Hence let us haste their brother guards arose
Rous'd by their call nor court again repose
The pair buoy'd up on Hope exulting wing
Their stations leave and speed to seek the king
Now o'er the earth a solemn stillness ran
And lull'd alike the cares of brute and man
Save where the Dardan leaders nightly hold
Alternate converse and their plans unfold
On one great point the council are agreed
An instant message to their prince decreed
Each lean'd upon the lance he well could wield
And pois'd with easy arm his ancient shield
When Nisus and his friend their leave request
To offer something to their high behest
With anxious tremors yet unaw'd by fear
The faithful pair before the throne appear
Iulus greets them at his kind command
The elder first address'd the hoary band
With patience thus Hyrtacides began
Attend nor judge from youth our humble plan
Where yonder beacons half-expiring beam
Our slumbering foes of future conquest dream
Nor heed that we a secret path have trac'd
Between the ocean and the portal plac'd
Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke
Whose shade securely our design will cloak
If you ye Chiefs and Fortune will allow
We'll bend our course to yonder mountain brow
Where Pallas' walls at distance meet the sight
Seen o'er the glade when not obscur'd by night
Then shall AEneas in his pride return
While hostile matrons raise their offspring urn
And Latian spoils and purpled heaps of dead
Shall mark the havoc of our Hero tread
Such is our purpose not unknown the way
Where yonder torrent devious waters stray
Oft have we seen when hunting by the stream
The distant spires above the valleys gleam
Mature in years for sober wisdom fam'd
Mov'd by the speech Alethes here exclaim'd 
Ye parent gods who rule the fate of Troy
Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy
When minds like these in striplings thus ye raise
Yours is the godlike act be yours the praise
In gallant youth my fainting hopes revive
And Ilion wonted glories still survive
Then in his warm embrace the boys he press'd
And quivering strain'd them to his aged breast
With tears the burning cheek of each bedew'd
And sobbing thus his first discourse renew'd 
What gift my countrymen what martial prize
Can we bestow which you may not despise
Our Deities the first best boon have given 
Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven
What poor rewards can bless your deeds on earth
Doubtless await such young exalted worth
AEneas and Ascanius shall combine
To yield applause far far surpassing mine
Iulus then By all the powers above
By those Penates who my country love
By hoary Vesta sacred Fane I swear
My hopes are all in you ye generous pair
Restore my father to my grateful sight
And all my sorrows yield to one delight
Nisus two silver goblets are thine own
Sav'd from Arisba stately domes o'erthrown
My sire secured them on that fatal day
Nor left such bowls an Argive robber prey
Two massy tripods also shall be thine
Two talents polish'd from the glittering mine
An ancient cup which Tyrian Dido gave
While yet our vessels press'd the Punic wave
But when the hostile chiefs at length bow down
When great AEneas wears Hesperia crown
The casque the buckler and the fiery steed
Which Turnus guides with more than mortal speed
Are thine no envious lot shall then be cast
I pledge my word irrevocably past
Nay more twelve slaves and twice six captive dames
To soothe thy softer hours with amorous flames
And all the realms which now the Latins sway
The labours of to-night shall well repay
But thou my generous youth whose tender years
Are near my own whose worth my heart reveres
Henceforth affection sweetly thus begun
Shall join our bosoms and our souls in one
Without thy aid no glory shall be mine
Without thy dear advice no great design
Alike through life esteem'd thou godlike boy
In war my bulwark and in peace my joy
To him Euryalus No day shall shame
The rising glories which from this I claim
Fortune may favour or the skies may frown
But valour spite of fate obtains renown
Yet ere from hence our eager steps depart
One boon I beg the nearest to my heart
My mother sprung from Priam royal line
Like thine ennobled hardly less divine
Nor Troy nor king Acestes' realms restrain
Her feeble age from dangers of the main
Alone she came all selfish fears above
A bright example of maternal love
Unknown the secret enterprise I brave
Lest grief should bend my parent to the grave
From this alone no fond adieus I seek
No fainting mother lips have press'd my cheek
By gloomy Night and thy right hand I vow
Her parting tears would shake my purpose now
Do thou my prince her failing age sustain
In thee her much-lov'd child may live again
Her dying hours with pious conduct bless
Assist her wants relieve her fond distress
So dear a hope must all my soul enflame
To rise in glory or to fall in fame
Struck with a filial care so deeply felt
In tears at once the Trojan warriors melt
Faster than all Iulus' eyes o'erflow
Such love was his and such had been his woe
All thou hast ask'd receive the Prince replied
Nor this alone but many a gift beside
To cheer thy mother years shall be my aim
Creusa style but wanting to the dame
Fortune an adverse wayward course may run
But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son
Now by my life my Sire most sacred oath 
To thee I pledge my full my firmest troth
All the rewards which once to thee were vow'd
If thou should'st fall on her shall be bestow'd
Thus spoke the weeping Prince then forth to view
A gleaming falchion from the sheath he drew
Lycaon utmost skill had grac'd the steel
For friends to envy and for foes to feel
A tawny hide the Moorish lion spoil
Slain 'midst the forest in the hunter toil
Mnestheus to guard the elder youth bestows
And old Alethes' casque defends his brows
Arm'd thence they go while all th' assembl'd train
To aid their cause implore the gods in vain
More than a boy in wisdom and in grace
Iulus holds amidst the chiefs his place
His prayer he sends but what can prayers avail
Lost in the murmurs of the sighing gale
The trench is pass'd and favour'd by the night
Through sleeping foes they wheel their wary flight
When shall the sleep of many a foe be o'er
Alas some slumber who shall wake no more
Chariots and bridles mix'd with arms are seen
And flowing flasks and scatter'd troops between
Bacchus and Mars to rule the camp combine
A mingled Chaos this of war and wine
Now cries the first for deeds of blood prepare
With me the conquest and the labour share
Here lies our path lest any hand arise
Watch thou while many a dreaming chieftain dies
I'll carve our passage through the heedless foe
And clear thy road with many a deadly blow
His whispering accents then the youth repress'd
And pierced proud Rhamnes through his panting breast
Stretch'd at his ease th' incautious king repos'd
Debauch and not fatigue his eyes had clos'd
To Turnus dear a prophet and a prince
His omens more than augur skill evince
But he who thus foretold the fate of all
Could not avert his own untimely fall
Next Remus' armour-bearer hapless fell
And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell
The charioteer along his courser sides
Expires the steel his sever'd neck divides
And last his Lord is number'd with the dead
Bounding convulsive flies the gasping head
From the swol'n veins the blackening torrents pour
Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore
Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire
And gay Serranus fill'd with youthful fire
Half the long night in childish games was pass'd
Lull'd by the potent grape he slept at last
Ah happier far had he the morn survey'd
And till Aurora dawn his skill display'd
In slaughter'd folds the keepers lost in sleep
His hungry fangs a lion thus may steep
'Mid the sad flock at dead of night he prowls
With murder glutted and in carnage rolls
Insatiate still through teeming herds he roams
In seas of gore the lordly tyrant foams
Nor less the other deadly vengeance came
But falls on feeble crowds without a name
His wound unconscious Fadus scarce can feel
Yet wakeful Rhaesus sees the threatening steel
His coward breast behind a jar he hides
And vainly in the weak defence confides
Full in his heart the falchion search'd his veins
The reeking weapon bears alternate stains
Through wine and blood commingling as they flow
One feeble spirit seeks the shades below
Now where Messapus dwelt they bend their way
Whose fires emit a faint and trembling ray
There unconfin'd behold each grazing steed
Unwatch'd unheeded on the herbage feed
Brave Nisus here arrests his comrade arm
Too flush'd with carnage and with conquest warm
Hence let us haste the dangerous path is pass'd
Full foes enough to-night have breath'  their last
Soon will the Day those Eastern clouds adorn
Now let us speed nor tempt the rising morn
What silver arms with various art emboss'd
What bowls and mantles in confusion toss'd
They leave regardless yet one glittering prize
Attracts the younger Hero wandering eyes
The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt
The gems which stud the monarch golden belt
This from the pallid corse was quickly torn
Once by a line of former chieftains worn
Th' exulting boy the studded girdle wears
Messapus' helm his head in triumph bears
Then from the tents their cautious steps they bend
To seek the vale where safer paths extend
Just at this hour a band of Latian horse
To Turnus' camp pursue their destin'd course
While the slow foot their tardy march delay
The knights impatient spur along the way
Three hundred mail-clad men by Volscens led
To Turnus with their master promise sped
Now they approach the trench and view the walls
When on the left a light reflection falls
The plunder'd helmet through the waning night
Sheds forth a silver radiance glancing bright
Volscens with question loud the pair alarms 
Stand Stragglers stand why early thus in arms
From whence to whom He meets with no reply
Trusting the covert of the night they fly
The thicket depth with hurried pace they tread
While round the wood the hostile squadron spread
With brakes entangled scarce a path between
Dreary and dark appears the sylvan scene
Euryalus his heavy spoils impede
The boughs and winding turns his steps mislead
But Nisus scours along the forest maze
To where Latinus' steeds in safety graze
Then backward o'er the plain his eyes extend
On every side they seek his absent friend
O God my boy he cries of me bereft
In what impending perils art thou left
Listening he runs above the waving trees
Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze
The war-cry rises thundering hoofs around
Wake the dark echoes of the trembling ground
Again he turns of footsteps hears the noise 
The sound elates the sight his hope destroys
The hapless boy a ruffian train surround
While lengthening shades his weary way confound
Him with loud shouts the furious knights pursue
Struggling in vain a captive to the crew
What can his friend 'gainst thronging numbers dare
Ah must he rush his comrade fate to share
What force what aid what stratagem essay
Back to redeem the Latian spoiler prey
His life a votive ransom nobly give
Or die with him for whom he wish'd to live
Poising with strength his lifted lance on high
On Luna orb he cast his frenzied eye 
Goddess serene transcending every star
Queen of the sky whose beams are seen afar
By night Heaven owns thy sway by day the grove
When as chaste Dian here thou deign'st to rove
If e'er myself or Sire have sought to grace
Thine altars with the produce of the chase
Speed speed my dart to pierce yon vaunting crowd
To free my friend and scatter far the proud
Thus having said the hissing dart he flung
Through parted shades the hurtling weapon sung
The thirsty point in Sulmo entrails lay
Transfix'd his heart and stretch'd him on the clay
He sobs he dies the troop in wild amaze
Unconscious whence the death with horror gaze
While pale they stare thro' Tagus' temples riven
A second shaft with equal force is driven
Fierce Volscens rolls around his lowering eyes
Veil'd by the night secure the Trojan lies
Burning with wrath he view'd his soldiers fall
Thou youth accurst thy life shall pay for all
Quick from the sheath his flaming glaive he drew
And raging on the boy defenceless flew
Nisus no more the blackening shade conceals
Forth forth he starts and all his love reveals
Aghast confus'd his fears to madness rise
And pour these accents shrieking as he flies
Me me your vengeance hurl on me alone
Here sheathe the steel my blood is all your own
Ye starry Spheres thou conscious Heaven attest
He could not durst not lo the guile confest
All all was mine his early fate suspend
He only lov'd too well his hapless friend
Spare spare ye Chiefs from him your rage remove
His fault was friendship all his crime was love
He pray'd in vain the dark assassin sword
Pierced the fair side the snowy bosom gor'd
Lowly to earth inclines his plume-clad crest
And sanguine torrents mantle o'er his breast
As some young rose whose blossom scents the air
Languid in death expires beneath the share
Or crimson poppy sinking with the shower
Declining gently falls a fading flower
Thus sweetly drooping bends his lovely head
And lingering Beauty hovers round the dead
But fiery Nisus stems the battle tide
Revenge his leader and Despair his guide
Volscens he seeks amidst the gathering host
Volscens must soon appease his comrade ghost
Steel flashing pours on steel foe crowds on foe
Rage nerves his arm Fate gleams in every blow
In vain beneath unnumber'd wounds he bleeds
Nor wounds nor death distracted Nisus heeds
In viewless circles wheel'd his falchion flies
Nor quits the hero grasp till Volscens dies
Deep in his throat its end the weapon found
The tyrant soul fled groaning through the wound
Thus Nisus all his fond affection prov'd 
Dying revenged the fate of him he lov'd
Then on his bosom sought his wonted place
And death was heavenly in his friend embrace
Celestial pair if aught my verse can claim
Wafted on Time broad pinion yours is fame
Ages on ages shall your fate admire
No future day shall see your names expire
While stands the Capitol immortal dome
And vanquished millions hail their Empress Rome
Dorset whose early steps with mine have stray'd
Exploring every path of Ida glade
Whom still affection taught me to defend
And made me less a tyrant than a friend
Though the harsh custom of our youthful band
Bade thee obey and gave me to command
Thee on whose head a few short years will shower
The gift of riches and the pride of power
E'en now a name illustrious is thine own
Renown'd in rank not far beneath the throne
Yet Dorset let not this seduce thy soul
To shun fair science or evade controul
Though passive tutors fearful to dispraise
The titled child whose future breath may raise
View ducal errors with indulgent eyes
And wink at faults they tremble to chastise
When youthful parasites who bend the knee
To wealth their golden idol not to thee 
And even in simple boyhood opening dawn
Some slaves are found to flatter and to fawn 
When these declare that pomp alone should wait
On one by birth predestin'd to be great
That books were only meant for drudging fools
That gallant spirits scorn the common rules
Believe them not they point the path to shame
And seek to blast the honours of thy name
Turn to the few in Ida early throng
Whose souls disdain not to condemn the wrong
Or if amidst the comrades of thy youth
None dare to raise the sterner voice of truth
Ask thine own heart 'twill bid thee boy forbear
For well I know that virtue lingers there
Yes I have mark'd thee many a passing day
But now new scenes invite me far away
Yes I have mark'd within that generous mind
A soul if well matur'd to bless mankind
Ah though myself by nature haughty wild
Whom Indiscretion hail'd her favourite child
Though every error stamps me for her own
And dooms my fall I fain would fall alone
Though my proud heart no precept now can tame
I love the virtues which I cannot claim
'Tis not enough with other sons of power
To gleam the lambent meteor of an hour
To swell some peerage page in feeble pride
With long-drawn names that grace no page beside
Then share with titled crowds the common lot 
In life just gaz'd at in the grave forgot
While nought divides thee from the vulgar dead
Except the dull cold stone that hides thy head
The mouldering 'scutcheon or the Herald roll
That well-emblazon'd but neglected scroll
Where Lords unhonour'd in the tomb may find
One spot to leave a worthless name behind
There sleep unnotic'd as the gloomy vaults
That veil their dust their follies and their faults
A race with old armorial lists o'erspread
In records destin'd never to be read
Fain would I view thee with prophetic eyes
Exalted more among the good and wise
A glorious and a long career pursue
As first in Rank the first in Talent too
Spurn every vice each little meanness shun
Not Fortune minion but her noblest son
Turn to the annals of a former day
Bright are the deeds thine earlier Sires display
One though a courtier lived a man of worth
And call'd proud boast the British drama forth
Another view not less renown'd for Wit
Alike for courts and camps or senates fit
Bold in the field and favour'd by the Nine
In every splendid part ordain'd to shine
Far far distinguished from the glittering throng
The pride of Princes and the boast of Song
Such were thy Fathers thus preserve their name
Not heir to titles only but to Fame
The hour draws nigh a few brief days will close
To me this little scene of joys and woes
Each knell of Time now warns me to resign
Shades where Hope Peace and Friendship all were mine
Hope that could vary like the rainbow hue
And gild their pinions as the moments flew
Peace that reflection never frown'd away
By dreams of ill to cloud some future day
Friendship whose truth let Childhood only tell
Alas they love not long who love so well
To these adieu nor let me linger o'er
Scenes hail'd as exiles hail their native shore
Receding slowly through the dark-blue deep
Beheld by eyes that mourn yet cannot weep
Dorset farewell I will not ask one part
Of sad remembrance in so young a heart
The coming morrow from thy youthful mind
Will sweep my name nor leave a trace behind
And yet perhaps in some maturer year
Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere
Since the same senate nay the same debate
May one day claim our suffrage for the state
We hence may meet and pass each other by
With faint regard or cold and distant eye
For me in future neither friend nor foe
A stranger to thyself thy weal or woe 
With thee no more again I hope to trace
The recollection of our early race
No more as once in social hours rejoice
Or hear unless in crowds thy well-known voice
Still if the wishes of a heart untaught
To veil those feelings which perchance it ought
If these but let me cease the lengthen'd strain 
Oh if these wishes are not breath'  in vain
The Guardian Seraph who directs thy fate
Will leave thee glorious as he found thee great
Spot of my youth whose hoary branches sigh
Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky
Where now alone I muse who oft have trod
With those I loved thy soft and verdant sod
With those who scatter'd far perchance deplore
Like me the happy scenes they knew before
Oh as I trace again thy winding hill
Mine eyes admire my heart adores thee still
Thou drooping Elm beneath whose boughs I lay
And frequent mus'd the twilight hours away
Where as they once were wont my limbs recline
But ah without the thoughts which then were mine
How do thy branches moaning to the blast
Invite the bosom to recall the past
And seem to whisper as they gently swell
Take while thou canst a lingering last farewell
When Fate shall chill at length this fever'd breast
And calm its cares and passions into rest
Oft have I thought 'twould soothe my dying hour 
If aught may soothe when Life resigns her power 
To know some humbler grave some narrow cell
Would hide my bosom where it lov'd to dwell
With this fond dream methinks 'twere sweet to die 
And here it linger'd here my heart might lie
Here might I sleep where all my hopes arose
Scene of my youth and couch of my repose
For ever stretch'd beneath this mantling shade
Press'd by the turf where once my childhood play'd
Wrapt by the soil that veils the spot I lov'd
Mix'd with the earth o'er which my footsteps mov'd
Blest by the tongues that charm'd my youthful ear
Mourn'd by the few my soul acknowledged here
Deplor'd by those in early days allied
And unremember'd by the world beside
'Twas now the noon of night and all was still
Except a hapless Rhymer and his quill
In vain he calls each Muse in order down
Like other females these will sometimes frown
He frets be fumes and ceasing to invoke
The Nine in anguish'd accents thus he spoke
Ah what avails it thus to waste my time
To roll in Epic or to rave in Rhyme
What worth is some few partial readers' praise
If ancient Virgins croaking 'censures' raise
Where few attend 'tis useless to indite
Where few can read 'tis folly sure to write
Where none but girls and striplings dare admire
And Critics rise in every country Squire 
But yet this last my candid Muse admits
When Peers are Poets Squires may well be Wits
When schoolboys vent their amorous flames in verse
Matrons may sure their characters asperse
And if a little parson joins the train
And echos back his Patron voice again 
Though not delighted yet I must forgive
Parsons as well as other folks must live 
From rage he rails not rather say from dread
He does not speak for Virtue but for bread
And this we know is in his Patron giving
For Parsons cannot eat without a 'Living'
The Matron knows I love the Sex too well
Even unprovoked aggression to repel
What though from private pique her anger grew
And bade her blast a heart she never knew
What though she said for one light heedless line
That Wilmot verse was far more pure than mine
In wars like these I neither fight nor fly
When 'dames' accuse 'tis bootless to deny
Her be the harvest of the martial field
I can't attack where Beauty forms the shield
But when a pert Physician loudly cries
Who hunts for scandal and who lives by lies
A walking register of daily news
Train'd to invent and skilful to abuse 
For arts like these at bounteous tables fed
When S condemns a book he never read
Declaring with a coxcomb native air
The 'moral's' shocking though the 'rhymes' are fair
Ah must he rise unpunish'd from the feast
Nor lash'd by vengeance into truth at least
Such lenity were more than Man indeed
Those who condemn should surely deign to read
Yet must I spare nor thus my pen degrade
I quite forgot that scandal was his trade
For food and raiment thus the coxcomb rails
For those who fear his physic like his tales
Why should his harmless censure seem offence
Still let him eat although at my expense
And join the herd to Sense and Truth unknown
Who dare not call their very thoughts their own
And share with these applause a godlike bribe
In short do anything except prescribe 
For though in garb of Galen he appears
His practice is not equal to his years
Without improvement since he first began
A young Physician though an ancient Man 
Now let me cease Physician Parson Dame
Still urge your task and if you can defame
The humble offerings of my Muse destroy
And crush oh noble conquest crush a Boy
What though some silly girls have lov'd the strain
And kindly bade me tune my Lyre again
What though some feeling or some partial few
Nay Men of Taste and Reputation too
Have deign'd to praise the firstlings of my Muse 
If you your sanction to the theme refuse
If you your great protection still withdraw
Whose Praise is Glory and whose Voice is law
Soon must I fall an unresisting foe
A hapless victim yielding to the blow 
Thus Pope by Curl and Dennis was destroyed
Thus Gray and Mason yield to furious Lloyd
From Dryden Milbourne tears the palm away
And thus I fall though meaner far than they
As in the field of combat side by side
A Fabius and some noble Roman died
Oh thou that roll'st above thy glorious Fire
Round as the shield which grac'd my godlike Sire
Whence are the beams O Sun thy endless blaze
Which far eclipse each minor Glory rays
Forth in thy Beauty here thou deign'st to shine
Night quits her car the twinkling stars decline
Pallid and cold the Moon descends to cave
Her sinking beams beneath the Western wave
But thou still mov'st alone of light the Source 
Who can o'ertake thee in thy fiery course
Oaks of the mountains fall the rocks decay
Weighed down with years the hills dissolve away
A certain space to yonder Moon is given
She rises smiles and then is lost in Heaven
Ocean in sullen murmurs ebbs and flows
But thy bright beam unchanged for ever glows
When Earth is darkened with tempestuous skies
When Thunder shakes the sphere and Lightning flies
Thy face O Sun no rolling blasts deform
Thou look'st from clouds and laughest at the Storm
To Ossian Orb of Light thou look'st in vain
Nor cans't thou glad his aged eyes again
Whether thy locks in Orient Beauty stream
Or glimmer through the West with fainter gleam 
But thou perhaps like me with age must bend
Thy season o'er thy days will find their end
No more yon azure vault with rays adorn
Lull'd in the clouds nor hear the voice of Morn
Exult O Sun in all thy youthful strength
Age dark unlovely Age appears at length
As gleams the moonbeam through the broken cloud
While mountain vapours spread their misty shroud 
The Northern tempest howls along at last
And wayworn strangers shrink amid the blast
Thou rolling Sun who gild'st those rising towers
Fair didst thou shine upon my earlier hours
I hail'd with smiles the cheering rays of Morn
My breast by no tumultuous Passion torn 
Now hateful are thy beams which wake no more
The sense of joy which thrill'd my breast before
Welcome thou cloudy veil of nightly skies
To thy bright canopy the mourner flies
Once bright thy Silence lull'd my frame to rest
And Sleep my soul with gentle visions blest
Now wakeful Grief disdains her mild controul
Dark is the night but darker is my Soul
Ye warring Winds of Heav'n your fury urge
To me congenial sounds your wintry Dirge
Swift as your wings my happier days have past
Keen as your storms is Sorrow chilling blast
To Tempests thus expos'd my Fate has been
Piercing like yours like yours alas unseen
Still must I hear shall hoarse FITZGERALD bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall
And I not sing lest haply Scotch Reviews
Should dub me scribbler and denounce my Muse
Prepare for rhyme I'll publish right or wrong
Fools are my theme let Satire be my song
Oh Nature noblest gift my grey goose-quill
Slave of my thoughts obedient to my will
Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen
That mighty instrument of little men
The pen foredoomed to aid the mental throes
Of brains that labour big with Verse or Prose
Though Nymphs forsake and Critics may deride
The Lover solace and the Author pride
What Wits what Poets dost thou daily raise
How frequent is thy use how small thy praise
Condemned at length to be forgotten quite
With all the pages which 'twas thine to write
But thou at least mine own especial pen
Once laid aside but now assumed again
Our task complete like Hamet shall be free
Though spurned by others yet beloved by me
Then let us soar to-day no common theme
No Eastern vision no distempered dream
Inspires our path though full of thorns is plain
Smooth be the verse and easy be the strain
When Vice triumphant holds her sov'reign sway
Obey'd by all who nought beside obey
When Folly frequent harbinger of crime
Bedecks her cap with bells of every Clime
When knaves and fools combined o'er all prevail
And weigh their Justice in a Golden Scale
E'en then the boldest start from public sneers
Afraid of Shame unknown to other fears
More darkly sin by Satire kept in awe
And shrink from Ridicule though not from Law
Such is the force of Wit I but not belong
To me the arrows of satiric song
The royal vices of our age demand
A keener weapon and a mightier hand
Still there are follies e'en for me to chase
And yield at least amusement in the race
Laugh when I laugh I seek no other fame
The cry is up and scribblers are my game
Speed Pegasus ye strains of great and small
Ode Epic Elegy have at you all
I too can scrawl and once upon a time
I poured along the town a flood of rhyme
A schoolboy freak unworthy praise or blame
I printed older children do the same
'Tis pleasant sure to see one name in print
A Book a Book altho' there nothing in't
Not that a Title sounding charm can save
Or scrawl or scribbler from an equal grave
This LAMB must own since his patrician name
Failed to preserve the spurious Farce from shame
No matter GEORGE continues still to write
Tho' now the name is veiled from public sight
Moved by the great example I pursue
The self-same road but make my own review
Not seek great JEFFREY'S yet like him will be
Self-constituted Judge of Poesy
A man must serve his time to every trade
Save Censure Critics all are ready made
Take hackneyed jokes from MILLER got by rote
With just enough of learning to misquote
A man well skilled to find or forge a fault
A turn for punning call it Attic salt
To JEFFREY go be silent and discreet
His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet
Fear not to lie'twill seem a sharper hit
Shrink not from blasphemy 'twill pass for wit
Care not for feeling pass your proper jest
And stand a Critic hated yet caress'd
And shall we own such judgment no as soon
Seek roses in December ice in June
Hope constancy in wind or corn in chaff
Believe a woman or an epitaph
Or any other thing that false before
You trust in Critics who themselves are sore
Or yield one single thought to be misled
By JEFFREY'S heart or LAMB'S Boeotian head
To these young tyrants by themselves misplaced
Combined usurpers on the Throne of Taste
To these when Authors bend in humble awe
And hail their voice as Truth their word as Law
While these are Censors 'twould be sin to spare
While such are Critics why should I forbear
But yet so near all modern worthies run
'Tis doubtful whom to seek or whom to shun
Nor know we when to spare or where to strike
Our Bards and Censors are so much alike
Then should you ask me why I venture o'er
The path which POPE and GIFFORD trod before
If not yet sickened you can still proceed
Go on my rhyme will tell you as you read
But hold exclaims a friend here some neglect
This that and t'other line seem incorrect
What then the self-same blunder Pope has got
And careless Dryden Aye but Pye has not 
Indeed 'tis granted faith but what care I
Better to err with POPE than shine with PYE
Time was ere yet in these degenerate days
Ignoble themes obtained mistaken praise
When Sense and Wit with Poesy allied
No fabled Graces flourished side by side
From the same fount their inspiration drew
And reared by Taste bloomed fairer as they grew
Then in this happy Isle a POPE'S pure strain
Sought the rapt soul to charm nor sought in vain
A polished nation praise aspired to claim
And raised the people as the poet fame
Like him great DRYDEN poured the tide of song
In stream less smooth indeed yet doubly strong
Then CONGREVE'S scenes could cheer or OTWAY'S melt
For Nature then an English audience felt 
But why these names or greater still retrace
When all to feebler Bards resign their place
Yet to such times our lingering looks are cast
When taste and reason with those times are past
Now look around and turn each trifling page
Survey the precious works that please the age
This truth at least let Satire self allow
No dearth of Bards can be complained of now
The loaded Press beneath her labour groans
And Printers' devils shake their weary bones
While SOUTHEY'S Epics cram the creaking shelves
And LITTLE'S Lyrics shine in hot-pressed twelves
Thus saith the Preacher Nought beneath the sun
Is new yet still from change to change we run
What varied wonders tempt us as they pass
The Cow-pox Tractors Galvanism and Gas
In turns appear to make the vulgar stare
Till the swoln bubble bursts and all is air
Nor less new schools of Poetry arise
Where dull pretenders grapple for the prize
O'er Taste awhile these Pseudo-bards prevail
Each country Book-club bows the knee to Baal
And hurling lawful Genius from the throne
Erects a shrine and idol of its own
Some leaden calf but whom it matters not
From soaring SOUTHEY down to groveling STOTT
Behold in various throngs the scribbling crew
For notice eager pass in long review
Each spurs his jaded Pegasus apace
And Rhyme and Blank maintain an equal race
Sonnets on sonnets crowd and ode on ode
And Tales of Terror jostle on the road
Immeasurable measures move along
For simpering Folly loves a varied song
To strange mysterious Dulness still the friend
Admires the strain she cannot comprehend
Thus Lays of Minstrels  may they be the last 
On half-strung harps whine mournful to the blast
While mountain spirits prate to river sprites
That dames may listen to the sound at nights
And goblin brats of Gilpin Horner brood
Decoy young Border-nobles through the wood
And skip at every step Lord knows how high
And frighten foolish babes the Lord knows why
While high-born ladies in their magic cell
Forbidding Knights to read who cannot spell
Despatch a courier to a wizard grave
And fight with honest men to shield a knave
Next view in state proud prancing on his roan
The golden-crested haughty Marmion
Now forging scrolls now foremost in the fight
Not quite a Felon yet but half a Knight
The gibbet or the field prepared to grace
A mighty mixture of the great and base
And think'st thou SCOTT by vain conceit perchance
On public taste to foist thy stale romance
Though MURRAY with his MILLER may combine
To yield thy muse just half-a-crown per line
No when the sons of song descend to trade
Their bays are sear their former laurels fade
Let such forego the poet sacred name
Who rack their brains for lucre not for fame
Still for stern Mammon may they toil in vain
And sadly gaze on Gold they cannot gain
Such be their meed such still the just reward
Of prostituted Muse and hireling bard
For this we spurn Apollo venal son
And bid a long good night to Marmion
These are the themes that claim our plaudits now
These are the Bards to whom the Muse must bow
While MILTON DRYDEN POPE alike forgot
Resign their hallowed Bays to WALTER SCOTT
The time has been when yet the Muse was young
When HOMER swept the lyre and MARO sung
An Epic scarce ten centuries could claim
While awe-struck nations hailed the magic name
The work of each immortal Bard appears
The single wonder of a thousand years
Empires have mouldered from the face of earth
Tongues have expired with those who gave them birth
Without the glory such a strain can give
As even in ruin bids the language live
Not so with us though minor Bards content
On one great work a life of labour spent
With eagle pinion soaring to the skies
Behold the Ballad-monger SOUTHEY rise
To him let CAMOENS MILTON TASSO yield
Whose annual strains like armies take the field
First in the ranks see Joan of Arc advance
The scourge of England and the boast of France
Though burnt by wicked BEDFORD for a witch
Behold her statue placed in Glory niche
Her fetters burst and just released from prison
A virgin Phoenix from her ashes risen
Next see tremendous Thalaba come on
Arabia monstrous wild and wond'rous son
Domdaniel dread destroyer who o'erthrew
More mad magicians than the world e'er knew
Immortal Hero all thy foes o'ercome
For ever reign the rival of Tom Thumb
Since startled Metre fled before thy face
Well wert thou doomed the last of all thy race
Well might triumphant Genii bear thee hence
Illustrious conqueror of common sense
Now last and greatest Madoc spreads his sails
Cacique in Mexico and Prince in Wales
Tells us strange tales as other travellers do
More old than Mandeville and not so true
Oh SOUTHEY SOUTHEY cease thy varied song
A bard may chaunt too often and too long
As thou art strong in verse in mercy spare
A fourth alas were more than we could bear
But if in spite of all the world can say
Thou still wilt verseward plod thy weary way
If still in Berkeley-Ballads most uncivil
Thou wilt devote old women to the devil
The babe unborn thy dread intent may rue
God help thee SOUTHEY and thy readers too
Next comes the dull disciple of thy school
That mild apostate from poetic rule
The simple WORDSWORTH framer of a lay
As soft as evening in his favourite May
Who warns his friend to shake off toil and trouble
And quit his books for fear of growing double
Who both by precept and example shows
That prose is verse and verse is merely prose
Convincing all by demonstration plain
Poetic souls delight in prose insane
And Christmas stories tortured into rhyme
Contain the essence of the true sublime
Thus when he tells the tale of Betty Foy
The idiot mother of an idiot Boy
A moon-struck silly lad who lost his way
And like his bard confounded night with day
So close on each pathetic part he dwells
And each adventure so sublimely tells
That all who view the idiot in his glory
Conceive the Bard the hero of the story
Shall gentle COLERIDGE pass unnoticed here
To turgid ode and tumid stanza dear
Though themes of innocence amuse him best
Yet still Obscurity a welcome guest
If Inspiration should her aid refuse
To him who takes a Pixy for a muse
Yet none in lofty numbers can surpass
The bard who soars to elegize an ass
So well the subject suits his noble mind
He brays the Laureate of the long-eared kind
Oh wonder-working LEWIS Monk or Bard
Who fain would make Parnassus a church-yard
Lo wreaths of yew not laurel bind thy brow
Thy Muse a Sprite Apollo sexton thou
Whether on ancient tombs thou tak'st thy stand
By gibb'ring spectres hailed thy kindred band
Or tracest chaste descriptions on thy page
To please the females of our modest age
All hail MP from whose infernal brain
Thin-sheeted phantoms glide a grisly train
At whose command grim women throng in crowds
And kings of fire of water and of clouds
With small grey men wild yagers and what not
To crown with honour thee and WALTER SCOTT
Again all hail if tales like thine may please
St Luke alone can vanquish the disease
Even Satan self with thee might dread to dwell
And in thy skull discern a deeper Hell
Who in soft guise surrounded by a choir
Of virgins melting not to Vesta fire
With sparkling eyes and cheek by passion flushed
Strikes his wild lyre whilst listening dames are hushed
'Tis LITTLE young Catullus of his day
As sweet but as immoral in his Lay
Grieved to condemn the Muse must still be just
Nor spare melodious advocates of lust
Pure is the flame which o'er her altar burns
From grosser incense with disgust she turns
Yet kind to youth this expiation o'er
She bids thee mend thy line and sin no more
For thee translator of the tinsel song
To whom such glittering ornaments belong
Hibernian STRANGFORD with thine eyes of blue
And boasted locks of red or auburn hue
Whose plaintive strain each love-sick Miss admires
And o'er harmonious fustian half expires
Learn if thou canst to yield thine author sense
Nor vend thy sonnets on a false pretence
Think'st thou to gain thy verse a higher place
By dressing Camoens in a suit of lace
Mend STRANGFORD mend thy morals and thy taste
Be warm but pure be amorous but be chaste
Cease to deceive thy pilfered harp restore
Nor teach the Lusian Bard to copy MOORE
Behold Ye Tarts one moment spare the text  
HAYLEY'S last work and worst until his next
Whether he spin poor couplets into plays
Or damn the dead with purgatorial praise
His style in youth or age is still the same
For ever feeble and for ever tame
Triumphant first see Temper Triumphs shine
At least I'm sure they triumphed over mine
Of Music Triumphs all who read may swear
That luckless Music never triumph'd there
Moravians rise bestow some meet reward
On dull devotion Lo the Sabbath Bard
Sepulchral GRAHAME pours his notes sublime
In mangled prose nor e'en aspires to rhyme
Breaks into blank the Gospel of St Luke
And boldly pilfers from the Pentateuch
And undisturbed by conscientious qualms
Perverts the Prophets and purloins the Psalms
Hail Sympathy thy soft idea brings
A thousand visions of a thousand things
And shows still whimpering thro' threescore of years
The maudlin prince of mournful sonneteers
And art thou not their prince harmonious Bowles
Thou first great oracle of tender souls
Whether them sing'st with equal ease and grief
The fall of empires or a yellow leaf
Whether thy muse most lamentably tells
What merry sounds proceed from Oxford bells
Or still in bells delighting finds a friend
In every chime that jingled from Ostend
Ah how much juster were thy Muse hap
If to thy bells thou would'st but add a cap
Delightful BOWLES still blessing and still blest
All love thy strain but children like it best
'Tis thine with gentle LITTLE'S moral song
To soothe the mania of the amorous throng
With thee our nursery damsels shed their tears
Ere Miss as yet completes her infant years
But in her teens thy whining powers are vain
She quits poor BOWLES for LITTLE'S purer strain
Now to soft themes thou scornest to confine
The lofty numbers of a harp like thine
Awake a louder and a loftier strain
Such as none heard before or will again
Where all discoveries jumbled from the flood
Since first the leaky ark reposed in mud
By more or less are sung in every book
From Captain Noah down to Captain Cook
Nor this alone but pausing on the road
The Bard sighs forth a gentle episode
And gravely tells attend each beauteous Miss 
When first Madeira trembled to a kiss
Bowles in thy memory let this precept dwell
Stick to thy Sonnets Man at least they sell
But if some new-born whim or larger bribe
Prompt thy crude brain and claim thee for a scribe
If 'chance some bard though once by dunces feared
Now prone in dust can only be revered
If Pope whose fame and genius from the first
Have foiled the best of critics needs the worst
Do thou essay each fault each failing scan
The first of poets was alas but man
Rake from each ancient dunghill ev'ry pearl
Consult Lord Fanny and confide in CURLL
Let all the scandals of a former age
Perch on thy pen and flutter o'er thy page
Affect a candour which thou canst not feel
Clothe envy in a garb of honest zeal
Write as if St John soul could still inspire
And do from hate what MALLET did for hire
Oh hadst thou lived in that congenial time
To rave with DENNIS and with RALPH to rhyme
Thronged with the rest around his living head
Not raised thy hoof against the lion dead
A meet reward had crowned thy glorious gains
And linked thee to the Dunciad for thy pains
Another Epic Who inflicts again
More books of blank upon the sons of men
Boeotian COTTLE rich Bristowa boast
Imports old stories from the Cambrian coast
And sends his goods to market all alive
Lines forty thousand Cantos twenty-five
Fresh fish from Hippocrene who'll buy who'll buy
The precious bargain cheap in faith not I
Your turtle-feeder verse must needs be flat
Though Bristol bloat him with the verdant fat
If Commerce fills the purse she clogs the brain
And AMOS COTTLE strikes the Lyre in vain
In him an author luckless lot behold
Condemned to make the books which once he sold
Oh AMOS COTTLE Phoebus what a name
To fill the speaking-trump of future fame 
Oh AMOS COTTLE for a moment think
What meagre profits spring from pen and ink
When thus devoted to poetic dreams
Who will peruse thy prostituted reams
Oh pen perverted paper misapplied
Had COTTLE still adorned the counter side
Bent o'er the desk or born to useful toils
Been taught to make the paper which he soils
Ploughed delved or plied the oar with lusty limb
He had not sung of Wales nor I of him
As Sisyphus against the infernal steep
Rolls the huge rock whose motions ne'er may sleep
So up thy hill ambrosial Richmond heaves
Dull MAURICE all his granite weight of leaves
Smooth solid monuments of mental pain
The petrifactions of a plodding brain
That ere they reach the top fall lumbering back again
With broken lyre and cheek serenely pale
Lo sad Alcaeus wanders down the vale
Though fair they rose and might have bloomed at last
His hopes have perished by the northern blast
Nipped in the bud by Caledonian gales
His blossoms wither as the blast prevails
O'er his lost works let classic SHEFFIELD weep
May no rude hand disturb their early sleep
Yet say why should the Bard at once resign
His claim to favour from the sacred Nine
For ever startled by the mingled howl
Of Northern Wolves that still in darkness prowl
A coward Brood which mangle as they prey
By hellish instinct all that cross their way
Aged or young the living or the dead
No mercy find-these harpies must be fed
Why do the injured unresisting yield
The calm possession of their native field
Why tamely thus before their fangs retreat
Nor hunt the blood-hounds back to Arthur Seat
Health to immortal JEFFREY once in name
England could boast a judge almost the same
In soul so like so merciful yet just
Some think that Satan has resigned his trust
And given the Spirit to the world again
To sentence Letters as he sentenced men
With hand less mighty but with heart as black
With voice as willing to decree the rack
Bred in the Courts betimes though all that law
As yet hath taught him is to find a flaw 
Since well instructed in the patriot school
To rail at party though a party tool 
Who knows if chance his patrons should restore
Back to the sway they forfeited before
His scribbling toils some recompense may meet
And raise this Daniel to the Judgment-Seat
Let JEFFREY'S shade indulge the pious hope
And greeting thus present him with a rope
Heir to my virtues man of equal mind
Skilled to condemn as to traduce mankind
This cord receive for thee reserved with care
To wield in judgment and at length to wear
Health to great JEFFREY Heaven preserve his life
To flourish on the fertile shores of Fife
And guard it sacred in its future wars
Since authors sometimes seek the field of Mars
Can none remember that eventful day
That ever-glorious almost fatal fray
When LITTLE'S leadless pistol met his eye
And Bow-street Myrmidons stood laughing by
Oh day disastrous on her firm-set rock
Dunedin castle felt a secret shock
Dark rolled the sympathetic waves of Forth
Low groaned the startled whirlwinds of the north
TWEED ruffled half his waves to form a tear
The other half pursued his calm career
ARTHUR'S steep summit nodded to its base
The surly Tolbooth scarcely kept her place
The Tolbooth felt for marble sometimes can
On such occasions feel as much as man 
The Tolbooth felt defrauded of his charms
If JEFFREY died except within her arms
Nay last not least on that portentous morn
The sixteenth story where himself was born
His patrimonial garret fell to ground
And pale Edina shuddered at the sound
Strewed were the streets around with milk-white reams
Flowed all the Canongate with inky streams
This of his candour seemed the sable dew
That of his valour showed the bloodless hue
And all with justice deemed the two combined
The mingled emblems of his mighty mind
But Caledonia goddess hovered o'er
The field and saved him from the wrath of Moore
From either pistol snatched the vengeful lead
And straight restored it to her favourite head
That head with greater than magnetic power
Caught it as Danae caught the golden shower
And though the thickening dross will scarce refine
Augments its ore and is itself a mine
My son she cried ne'er thirst for gore again
Resign the pistol and resume the pen
O'er politics and poesy preside
Boast of thy country and Britannia guide
For long as Albion heedless sons submit
Or Scottish taste decides on English wit
So long shall last thine unmolested reign
Nor any dare to take thy name in vain
Behold a chosen band shall aid thy plan
And own thee chieftain of the critic clan
First in the oat-fed phalanx shall be seen
The travelled Thane Athenian Aberdeen
HERBERT shall wield THOR'S hammer and sometimes
In gratitude thou'lt praise his rugged rhymes
Smug SYDNEY too thy bitter page shall seek
And classic HALLAM much renowned for Greek
SCOTT may perchance his name and influence lend
And paltry PILLANS shall traduce his friend
While gay Thalia luckless votary LAMB
Damned like the Devil Devil-like will damn
Known be thy name unbounded be thy sway
Thy HOLLAND'S banquets shall each toil repay
While grateful Britain yields the praise she owes
To HOLLAND'S hirelings and to Learning foes
Yet mark one caution ere thy next Review
Spread its light wings of Saffron and of Blue
Beware lest blundering BROUGHAM destroy the sale
Turn Beef to Bannocks Cauliflowers to Kail
Thus having said the kilted Goddess kist
Her son and vanished in a Scottish mist
Then prosper JEFFREY pertest of the train
Whom Scotland pampers with her fiery grain
Whatever blessing waits a genuine Scot
In double portion swells thy glorious lot
For thee Edina culls her evening sweets
And showers their odours on thy candid sheets
Whose Hue and Fragrance to thy work adhere 
This scents its pages and that gilds its rear
Lo blushing Itch coy nymph enamoured grown
Forsakes the rest and cleaves to thee alone
And too unjust to other Pictish men
Enjoys thy person and inspires thy pen
Illustrious HOLLAND hard would be his lot
His hirelings mentioned and himself forgot
HOLLAND with HENRY PETTY at his back
The whipper-in and huntsman of the pack
Blest be the banquets spread at Holland House
Where Scotchmen feed and Critics may carouse
Long long beneath that hospitable roof
Shall Grub-street dine while duns are kept aloof
See honest HALLAM lay aside his fork
Resume his pen review his Lordship work
And grateful for the dainties on his plate
Declare his landlord can at least translate
Dunedin view thy children with delight
They write for food and feed because they write
And lest when heated with the unusual grape
Some glowing thoughts should to the press escape
And tinge with red the female reader cheek
My lady skims the cream of each critique
Breathes o'er the page her purity of soul
Reforms each error and refines the whole
Now to the Drama turn Oh motley sight
What precious scenes the wondering eyes invite
Puns and a Prince within a barrel pent
And Dibdin nonsense yield complete content
Though now thank Heaven the Rosciomania o'er
And full-grown actors are endured once more
Yet what avail their vain attempts to please
While British critics suffer scenes like these
While REYNOLDS vents his 'dammes' poohs and zounds
And common-place and common sense confounds
While KENNEY'S World ah where is KENNEY'S wit
Tires the sad gallery lulls the listless Pit
And BEAUMONT'S pilfered Caratach affords
A tragedy complete in all but words
Who but must mourn while these are all the rage
The degradation of our vaunted stage
Heavens is all sense of shame and talent gone
Have we no living Bard of merit none
Awake GEORGE COLMAN CUMBERLAND awake
Ring the alarum bell let folly quake
Oh SHERIDAN if aught can move thy pen
Let Comedy assume her throne again
Abjure the mummery of German schools
Leave new Pizarros to translating fools
Give as thy last memorial to the age
One classic drama and reform the stage
Gods o'er those boards shall Folly rear her head
Where GARRICK trod and SIDDONS lives to tread
On those shall Farce display buffoonery mask
And HOOK conceal his heroes in a cask
Shall sapient managers new scenes produce
From CHERRY SKEFFINGTONand Mother GOOSE
While SHAKESPEARE OTWAY MASSINGER forgot
On stalls must moulder or in closets rot
Lo with what pomp the daily prints proclaim
The rival candidates for Attic fame
In grim array though LEWIS' spectres rise
Still SKEFFINGTON and GOOSE divide the prize
And sure 'great' Skeffington must claim our praise
For skirtless coats and skeletons of plays
Renowned alike whose genius ne'er confines
Her flight to garnish Greenwood gay designs
Nor sleeps with Sleeping Beauties but anon
In five facetious acts comes thundering on
While poor John Bull bewildered with the scene
Stares wondering what the devil it can mean
But as some hands applaud a venal few
Rather than sleep why John applauds it too
Such are we now Ah wherefore should we turn
To what our fathers were unless to mourn
Degenerate Britons are ye dead to shame
Or kind to dulness do you fear to blame
Well may the nobles of our present race
Watch each distortion of a NALDI'S face
Well may they smile on Italy buffoons
And worship CATALANI pantaloons
Since their own Drama yields no fairer trace
Of wit than puns of humour than grimace
Then let Ausonia skill'd in every art
To soften manners but corrupt the heart
Pour her exotic follies o'er the town
To sanction Vice and hunt Decorum down
Let wedded strumpets languish o'er DESHAYES
And bless the promise which his form displays
While Gayton bounds before th' enraptured looks
Of hoary Marquises and stripling Dukes
Let high-born lechers eye the lively Presle
Twirl her light limbs that spurn the needless veil
Let Angiolini bare her breast of snow
Wave the white arm and point the pliant toe
Collini trill her love-inspiring song
Strain her fair neck and charm the listening throng
Whet not your scythe Suppressors of our Vice
Reforming Saints too delicately nice
By whose decrees our sinful souls to save
No Sunday tankards foam no barbers shave
And beer undrawn and beards unmown display
Your holy reverence for the Sabbath-day
Or hail at once the patron and the pile
Of vice and folly Greville and Argyle
Where yon proud palace Fashion hallow'd fane
Spreads wide her portals for the motley train
Behold the new Petronius of the day
Our arbiter of pleasure and of play
There the hired eunuch the Hesperian choir
The melting lute the soft lascivious lyre
The song from Italy the step from France
The midnight orgy and the mazy dance
The smile of beauty and the flush of wine
For fops fools gamesters knaves and Lords combine
Each to his humour Comus all allows
Champaign dice music or your neighbour spouse
Talk not to us ye starving sons of trade
Of piteous ruin which ourselves have made
In Plenty sunshine Fortune minions bask
Nor think of Poverty except en masque
When for the night some lately titled ass
Appears the beggar which his grandsire was
The curtain dropped the gay Burletta o'er
The audience take their turn upon the floor
Now round the room the circling dow'gers sweep
Now in loose waltz the thin-clad daughters leap
The first in lengthened line majestic swim
The last display the free unfettered limb
Those for Hibernia lusty sons repair
With art the charms which Nature could not spare
These after husbands wing their eager flight
Nor leave much mystery for the nuptial night
Oh blest retreats of infamy and ease
Where all forgotten but the power to please
Each maid may give a loose to genial thought
Each swain may teach new systems or be taught
There the blithe youngster just returned from Spain
Cuts the light pack or calls the rattling main
The jovial Caster set and seven the Nick
Or done a thousand on the coming trick
If mad with loss existence 'gins to tire
And all your hope or wish is to expire
Here POWELL'S pistol ready for your life
And kinder still two PAGETS for your wife
Fit consummation of an earthly race
Begun in folly ended in disgrace
While none but menials o'er the bed of death
Wash thy red wounds or watch thy wavering breath
Traduced by liars and forgot by all
The mangled victim of a drunken brawl
To live like CLODIUS and like FALKLAND fall
Truth rouse some genuine Bard and guide his hand
To drive this pestilence from out the land
E'en I least thinking of a thoughtless throng
Just skilled to know the right and choose the wrong
Freed at that age when Reason shield is lost
To fight my course through Passion countless host
Whom every path of Pleasure flow'ry way
Has lured in turn and all have led astray 
E'en I must raise my voice e'en I must feel
Such scenes such men destroy the public weal
Altho' some kind censorious friend will say
What art thou better meddling fool than they
And every Brother Rake will smile to see
That miracle a Moralist in me
No matter when some Bard in virtue strong
Gifford perchance shall raise the chastening song
Then sleep my pen for ever and my voice
Be only heard to hail him and rejoice
Rejoice and yield my feeble praise though I
May feel the lash that Virtue must apply
As for the smaller fry who swarm in shoals
From silly HAFIZ up to simple BOWLES
Why should we call them from their dark abode
In Broad St Giles or Tottenham-Road
Or since some men of fashion nobly dare
To scrawl in verse from Bond-street or the Square
If things of Ton their harmless lays indite
Most wisely doomed to shun the public sight
What harm in spite of every critic elf
Sir T may read his stanzas to himself
MILES ANDREWS still his strength in couplets try
And live in prologues though his dramas die
Lords too are Bards such things at times befall
And 'tis some praise in Peers to write at all
Yet did or Taste or Reason sway the times
Ah who would take their titles with their rhymes
ROSCOMMON with your spirits fled
No future laurels deck a noble head
No Muse will cheer with renovating smile
The paralytic puling of CARLISLE
The puny schoolboy and his early lay
Men pardon if his follies pass away
But who forgives the Senior ceaseless verse
Whose hairs grow hoary as his rhymes grow worse
What heterogeneous honours deck the Peer
Lord rhymester petit-maitre pamphleteer
So dull in youth so drivelling in his age
His scenes alone had damned our sinking stage
But Managers for once cried Hold enough
Nor drugged their audience with the tragic stuff
Yet at their judgment let his Lordship laugh
And case his volumes in congenial calf
Yes doff that covering where Morocco shines
And hang a calf-skin on those recreant lines
With you ye Druids rich in native lead
Who daily scribble for your daily bread
With you I war not GIFFORD'S heavy hand
Has crushed without remorse your numerous band
On All the Talents vent your venal spleen
Want is your plea let Pity be your screen
Let Monodies on Fox regale your crew
And Melville Mantle prove a Blanket too
One common Lethe waits each hapless Bard
And peace be with you 'tis your best reward
Such damning fame as Dunciads only give
Could bid your lines beyond a morning live
But now at once your fleeting labours close
With names of greater note in blest repose
Far be't from me unkindly to upbraid
The lovely ROSA'S prose in masquerade
Whose strains the faithful echoes of her mind
Leave wondering comprehension far behind
Though Crusca bards no more our journals fill
Some stragglers skirmish round the columns still
Last of the howling host which once was Bell's
Matilda snivels yet and Hafiz yells
And Merry metaphors appear anew
Chained to the signature of O P Q
When some brisk youth the tenant of a stall
Employs a pen less pointed than his awl
Leaves his snug shop forsakes his store of shoes
St Crispin quits and cobbles for the Muse
Heavens how the vulgar stare how crowds applaud
How ladies read and Literati laud
If chance some wicked wag should pass his jest
'Tis sheer ill-nature don't the world know best
Genius must guide when wits admire the rhyme
And CAPEL LOFFT declares 'tis quite sublime
Hear then ye happy sons of needless trade
Swains quit the plough resign the useless spade
Lo BURNS and BLOOMFIELD nay a greater far
GIFFORD was born beneath an adverse star
Forsook the labours of a servile state
Stemmed the rude storm and triumphed over Fate
Then why no more if Phoebus smiled on you
BLOOMFIELD why not on brother Nathan too
Him too the Mania not the Muse has seized
Not inspiration but a mind diseased
And now no Boor can seek his last abode
No common be inclosed without an ode
Oh since increased refinement deigns to smile
On Britain sons and bless our genial Isle
Let Poesy go forth pervade the whole
Alike the rustic and mechanic soul
Ye tuneful cobblers still your notes prolong
Compose at once a slipper and a song
So shall the fair your handywork peruse
Your sonnets sure shall please perhaps your shoes
May Moorland weavers boast Pindaric skill
And tailors' lays be longer than their bill
While punctual beaux reward the grateful notes
And pay for poems when they pay for coats
To the famed throng now paid the tribute due
Neglected Genius let me turn to you
Come forth oh CAMPBELL give thy talents scope
Who dares aspire if thou must cease to hope
And thou melodious ROGERS rise at last
Recall the pleasing memory of the past
Arise let blest remembrance still inspire
And strike to wonted tones thy hallowed lyre
Restore Apollo to his vacant throne
Assert thy country honour and thine own
What must deserted Poesy still weep
Where her last hopes with pious COWPER sleep
Unless perchance from his cold bier she turns
To deck the turf that wraps her minstrel BURNS
No though contempt hath marked the spurious brood
The race who rhyme from folly or for food
Yet still some genuine sons 'tis hers to boast
Who least affecting still affect the most
Feel as they write and write but as they feel 
Bear witness GIFFORD SOTHEBY MACNEIL
Why slumbers GIFFORD once was asked in vain
Why slumbers GIFFORD let us ask again
Are there no follies for his pen to purge
Are there no fools whose backs demand the scourge
Are there no sins for Satire Bard to greet
Stalks not gigantic Vice in every street
Shall Peers or Princes tread pollution path
And 'scape alike the Laws and Muse wrath
Nor blaze with guilty glare through future time
Eternal beacons of consummate crime
Arouse thee GIFFORD be thy promise claimed
Make bad men better or at least ashamed
Unhappy WHITE while life was in its spring
And thy young Muse just waved her joyous wing
The Spoiler swept that soaring Lyre away
Which else had sounded an immortal lay
Oh what a noble heart was here undone
When Science' self destroyed her favourite son
Yes she too much indulged thy fond pursuit
She sowed the seeds but Death has reaped the fruit
'Twas thine own Genius gave the final blow
And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low
So the struck Eagle stretched upon the plain
No more through rolling clouds to soar again
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart
And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart
Keen were his pangs but keener far to feel
He nursed the pinion which impelled the steel
While the same plumage that had warmed his nest
Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast
There be who say in these enlightened days
That splendid lies are all the poet praise
That strained Invention ever on the wing
Alone impels the modern Bard to sing
Tis true that all who rhyme nay all who write
Shrink from that fatal word to Genius Trite
Yet Truth sometimes will lend her noblest fires
And decorate the verse herself inspires
This fact in Virtue name let CRABBE attest
Though Nature sternest Painter yet the best
And here let SHEE and Genius find a place
Whose pen and pencil yield an equal grace
To guide whose hand the sister Arts combine
And trace the Poet or the Painter line
Whose magic touch can bid the canvas glow
Or pour the easy rhyme harmonious flow
While honours doubly merited attend
The Poet rival but the Painter friend
Blest is the man who dares approach the bower
Where dwelt the Muses at their natal hour
Whose steps have pressed whose eye has marked afar
The clime that nursed the sons of song and war
The scenes which Glory still must hover o'er
Her place of birth her own Achaian shore
But doubly blest is he whose heart expands
With hallowed feelings for those classic lands
Who rends the veil of ages long gone by
And views their remnants with a poet eye
WRIGHT 'twas thy happy lot at once to view
Those shores of glory and to sing them too
And sure no common Muse inspired thy pen
To hail the land of Gods and Godlike men
And you associate Bards who snatched to light
Those gems too long withheld from modern sight
Whose mingling taste combined to cull the wreath
While Attic flowers Aonian odours breathe
And all their renovated fragrance flung
To grace the beauties of your native tongue
Now let those minds that nobly could transfuse
The glorious Spirit of the Grecian Muse
Though soft the echo scorn a borrowed tone
Resign Achaia lyre and strike your own
Let these or such as these with just applause
Restore the Muse violated laws
But not in flimsy DARWIN'S pompous chime
That mighty master of unmeaning rhyme
Whose gilded cymbals more adorned than clear
The eye delighted but fatigued the ear
In show the simple lyre could once surpass
But now worn down appear in native brass
While all his train of hovering sylphs around
Evaporate in similes and sound
Him let them shun with him let tinsel die
False glare attracts but more offends the eye
Yet let them not to vulgar WORDSWORTH stoop
The meanest object of the lowly group
Whose verse of all but childish prattle void
Seems blessed harmony to LAMB and LLOYD
Let them but hold my Muse nor dare to teach
A strain far far beyond thy humble reach
The native genius with their being given
Will point the path and peal their notes to heaven
And thou too SCOTT resign to minstrels rude
The wilder Slogan of a Border feud
Let others spin their meagre lines for hire
Enough for Genius if itself inspire
Let SOUTHEY sing altho' his teeming muse
Prolific every spring be too profuse
Let simple WORDSWORTH chime his childish verse
And brother COLERIDGE lull the babe at nurse
Let Spectre-mongering LEWIS aim at most
To rouse the Galleries or to raise a ghost
Let MOORE still sigh let STRANGFORD steal from MOORE
And swear that CAMOENS sang such notes of yore
Let HAYLEY hobble on MONTGOMERY rave
And godly GRAHAME chant a stupid stave
Let sonneteering BOWLES his strains refine
And whine and whimper to the fourteenth line
Let STOTT CARLISLE MATILDA and the rest
Of Grub Street and of Grosvenor Place the best
Scrawl on 'till death release us from the strain
Or Common Sense assert her rights again
But Thou with powers that mock the aid of praise
Should'st leave to humbler Bards ignoble lays
Thy country voice the voice of all the Nine
Demand a hallowed harp that harp is thine
Say will not Caledonia annals yield
The glorious record of some nobler field
Than the vile foray of a plundering clan
Whose proudest deeds disgrace the name of man
Or Marmion acts of darkness fitter food
For SHERWOOD'S outlaw tales of ROBIN HOOD
Scotland still proudly claim thy native Bard
And be thy praise his first his best reward
Yet not with thee alone his name should live
But own the vast renown a world can give
Be known perchance when Albion is no more
And tell the tale of what she was before
To future times her faded fame recall
And save her glory though his country fall
Yet what avails the sanguine Poet hope
To conquer ages and with time to cope
New eras spread their wings new nations rise
And other Victors fill th' applauding skies
A few brief generations fleet along
Whose sons forget the Poet and his song
E'en now what once-loved Minstrels scarce may claim
The transient mention of a dubious name
When Fame loud trump hath blown its noblest blast
Though long the sound the echo sleeps at last
And glory like the Phoenix midst her fires
Exhales her odours blazes and expires
Shall hoary Granta call her sable sons
Expert in science more expert at puns
Shall these approach the Muse ah no she flies
Even from the tempting ore of Seaton prize
Though Printers condescend the press to soil
With rhyme by HOARE and epic blank by HOYLE
Not him whose page if still upheld by whist
Requires no sacred theme to bid us list
Ye who in Granta honours would surpass
Must mount her Pegasus a full-grown ass
A foal well worthy of her ancient Dam
Whose Helicon is duller than her Cam
There CLARKE still striving piteously to please
Forgetting doggerel leads not to degrees
A would-be satirist a hired Buffoon
A monthly scribbler of some low Lampoon
Condemned to drudge the meanest of the mean
And furbish falsehoods for a magazine
Devotes to scandal his congenial mind
Himself a living libel on mankind
Oh dark asylum of a Vandal race
At once the boast of learning and disgrace
So lost to Phoebus that nor Hodgson verse
Can make thee better nor poor Hewson worse
But where fair Isis rolls her purer wave
The partial Muse delighted loves to lave
On her green banks a greener wreath she wove
To crown the Bards that haunt her classic grove
Where RICHARDS wakes a genuine poet fires
And modern Britons glory in their Sires
For me who thus unasked have dared to tell
My country what her sons should know too well
Zeal for her honour bade me here engage
The host of idiots that infest her age
No just applause her honoured name shall lose
As first in freedom dearest to the Muse
Oh would thy bards but emulate thy fame
And rise more worthy Albion of thy name
What Athens was in science Rome in power
What Tyre appeared in her meridian hour
'Tis thine at once fair Albion to have been 
Earth chief Dictatress Ocean lovely Queen
But Rome decayed and Athens strewed the plain
And Tyre proud piers lie shattered in the main
Like these thy strength may sink in ruin hurled
And Britain fall the bulwark of the world
But let me cease and dread Cassandra fate
With warning ever scoffed at till too late
To themes less lofty still my lay confine
And urge thy Bards to gain a name like thine
Then hapless Britain be thy rulers blest
The senate oracles the people jest
Still hear thy motley orators dispense
The flowers of rhetoric though not of sense
While CANNING'S colleagues hate him for his wit
And old dame PORTLAND fills the place of PITT
Yet once again adieu ere this the sail
That wafts me hence is shivering in the gale
And Afric coast and Calpe adverse height
And Stamboul minarets must greet my sight
Thence shall I stray through Beauty native clime
Where Kaff is clad in rocks and crowned with snows sublime
But should I back return no tempting press
Shall drag my Journal from the desk recess
Let coxcombs printing as they come from far
Snatch his own wreath of Ridicule from Carr
Let ABERDEEN and ELGIN still pursue
The shade of fame through regions of Virtu
Waste useless thousands on their Phidian freaks
Misshapen monuments and maimed antiques
And make their grand saloons a general mart
For all the mutilated blocks of art
Of Dardan tours let Dilettanti tell
I leave topography to rapid GELL
And quite content no more shall interpose
To stun the public ear at least with Prose
Thus far I've held my undisturbed career
Prepared for rancour steeled 'gainst selfish fear
This thing of rhyme I ne'er disdained to own 
Though not obtrusive yet not quite unknown
My voice was heard again though not so loud
My page though nameless never disavowed
And now at once I tear the veil away 
Cheer on the pack the Quarry stands at bay
Unscared by all the din of MELBOURNE house
By LAMB'S resentment or by HOLLAND'S spouse
By JEFFREY'S harmless pistol HALLAM'S rage
Edina brawny sons and brimstone page
Our men in buckram shall have blows enough
And feel they too are penetrable stuff
And though I hope not hence unscathed to go
Who conquers me shall find a stubborn foe
The time hath been when no harsh sound would fall
From lips that now may seem imbued with gall
Nor fools nor follies tempt me to despise
The meanest thing that crawled beneath my eyes
But now so callous grown so changed since youth
I've learned to think and sternly speak the truth
Learned to deride the critic starch decree
And break him on the wheel he meant for me
To spurn the rod a scribbler bids me kiss
Nor care if courts and crowds applaud or hiss
Nay more though all my rival rhymesters frown
I too can hunt a Poetaster down
And armed in proof the gauntlet cast at once
To Scotch marauder and to Southern dunce
Thus much I've dared if my incondite lay
Hath wronged these righteous times let others say
This let the world which knows not how to spare
Yet rarely blames unjustly now declare
Who would not laugh if Lawrence hired to grace
His costly canvas with each flattered face
Abused his art till Nature with a blush
Saw cits grow Centaurs underneath his brush
Or should some limner join for show or sale
A Maid of Honour to a Mermaid tail
Or low Dubost  as once the world has seen 
Degrade God creatures in his graphic spleen
Not all that forced politeness which defends
Fools in their faults could gag his grinning friends
Believe me Moschus like that picture seems
The book which sillier than a sick man dreams
Displays a crowd of figures incomplete
Poetic Nightmares without head or feet
Poets and painters as all artists know
May shoot a little with a lengthened bow
We claim this mutual mercy for our task
And grant in turn the pardon which we ask
But make not monsters spring from gentle dams 
Birds breed not vipers tigers nurse not lambs
A laboured long Exordium sometimes tends
Like patriot speeches but to paltry ends
And nonsense in a lofty note goes down
As Pertness passes with a legal gown
Thus many a Bard describes in pompous strain
The clear brook babbling through the goodly plain
The groves of Granta and her Gothic halls
King Coll-Cam stream-stained windows and old walls
Or in adventurous numbers neatly aims
To paint a rainbow or the river Thames
You sketch a tree and so perhaps may shine  
But daub a shipwreck like an alehouse sign
You plan a vase it dwindles to a pot
Then glide down Grub-street fasting and forgot
Laughed into Lethe by some quaint Review
Whose wit is never troublesome till true
In fine to whatsoever you aspire
Let it at least be simple and entire
The greater portion of the rhyming tribe
Give ear my friend for thou hast been a scribe
Are led astray by some peculiar lure
I labour to be brief become obscure
One falls while following Elegance too fast
Another soars inflated with Bombast
Too low a third crawls on afraid to fly
He spins his subject to Satiety
Absurdly varying he at last engraves
Fish in the woods and boars beneath the waves
Unless your care exact your judgment nice
The flight from Folly leads but into Vice
None are complete all wanting in some part
Like certain tailors limited in art
For galligaskins Slowshears is your man
But coats must claim another artisan
Now this to me I own seems much the same
As Vulcan feet to bear Apollo frame
Or with a fair complexion to expose
Black eyes black ringlets but a bottle nose
Dear Authors suit your topics to your strength
And ponder well your subject and its length
Nor lift your load before you're quite aware
What weight your shoulders will or will not bear
But lucid Order and Wit siren voice
Await the Poet skilful in his choice
With native Eloquence he soars along
Grace in his thoughts and Music in his song
Let Judgment teach him wisely to combine
With future parts the now omitted line
This shall the Author choose or that reject
Precise in style and cautious to select
Nor slight applause will candid pens afford
To him who furnishes a wanting word
Then fear not if 'tis needful to produce
Some term unknown or obsolete in use
As Pitt has furnished us a word or two
Which Lexicographers declined to do
So you indeed with care but be content
To take this license rarely may invent
New words find credit in these latter days
If neatly grafted on a Gallic phrase
What Chaucer Spenser did we scarce refuse
To Dryden or to Pope maturer Muse
If you can add a little say why not
As well as William Pitt and Walter Scott
Since they by force of rhyme and force of lungs
Enriched our Island ill-united tongues
'Tis then and shall be lawful to present
Reform in writing as in Parliament
As forests shed their foliage by degrees
So fade expressions which in season please
And we and ours alas are due to Fate
And works and words but dwindle to a date
Though as a Monarch nods and Commerce calls
Impetuous rivers stagnate in canals
Though swamps subdued and marshes drained sustain
The heavy ploughshare and the yellow grain
And rising ports along the busy shore
Protect the vessel from old Ocean roar
All all must perish but surviving last
The love of Letters half preserves the past
True some decay yet not a few revive
Though those shall sink which now appear to thrive
As Custom arbitrates whose shifting sway
Our life and language must alike obey
The immortal wars which Gods and Angels wage
Are they not shown in Milton sacred page
His strain will teach what numbers best belong
To themes celestial told in Epic song
The slow sad stanza will correctly paint
The Lover anguish or the Friend complaint
But which deserves the Laurel Rhyme or Blank
Which holds on Helicon the higher rank
Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute
This point as puzzling as a Chancery suit
Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen
You doubt see Dryden Pope St Patrick Dean
Blank verse is now with one consent allied
To Tragedy and rarely quits her side
Though mad Almanzor rhymed in Dryden days
No sing-song Hero rants in modern plays
Whilst modest Comedy her verse foregoes
For jest and 'pun' in very middling prose
Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse
Or lose one point because they wrote in verse
But so Thalia pleases to appear
Poor Virgin damned some twenty times a year
Whate'er the scene let this advice have weight 
Adapt your language to your Hero state
At times Melpomene forgets to groan
And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone
Nor unregarded will the act pass by
Where angry Townly lifts his voice on high
Again our Shakespeare limits verse to Kings
When common prose will serve for common things
And lively Hal resigns heroic ire  
To hollaing Hotspur and his sceptred sire
'Tis not enough ye Bards with all your art
To polish poems they must touch the heart
Where'er the scene be laid whate'er the song
Still let it bear the hearer soul along
Command your audience or to smile or weep
Whiche'er may please you anything but sleep
The Poet claims our tears but by his leave
Before I shed them let me see 'him' grieve
If banished Romeo feigned nor sigh nor tear
Lulled by his languor I could sleep or sneer
Sad words no doubt become a serious face
And men look angry in the proper place
At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly
And Sentiment prescribes a pensive eye
For Nature formed at first the inward man
And actors copy Nature when they can
She bids the beating heart with rapture bound
Raised to the Stars or levelled with the ground
And for Expression aid 'tis said or sung
She gave our mind interpreter the tongue
Who worn with use of late would fain dispense
At least in theatres with common sense
O'erwhelm with sound the Boxes Gallery Pit
And raise a laugh with anything but Wit
To skilful writers it will much import
Whence spring their scenes from common life or Court
Whether they seek applause by smile or tear
To draw a Lying Valet or a Lear
A sage or rakish youngster wild from school
A wandering Peregrine or plain John Bull
All persons please when Nature voice prevails
Scottish or Irish born in Wilts or Wales
Or follow common fame or forge a plot
Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not
One precept serves to regulate the scene
Make it appear as if it might have been
If some Drawcansir you aspire to draw
Present him raving and above all law
If female furies in your scheme are planned
Macbeth fierce dame is ready to your hand
For tears and treachery for good and evil
Constance King Richard Hamlet and the Devil
But if a new design you dare essay
And freely wander from the beaten way
True to your characters till all be past
Preserve consistency from first to last
Tis hard to venture where our betters fail
Or lend fresh interest to a twice-told tale
And yet perchance'tis wiser to prefer
A hackneyed plot than choose a new and err
Yet copy not too closely but record
More justly thought for thought than word for word
Nor trace your Prototype through narrow ways
But only follow where he merits praise
For you young Bard whom luckless fate may lead
To tremble on the nod of all who read
Ere your first score of cantos Time unrolls
Beware for God sake don't begin like Bowles
Awake a louder and a loftier strain  
And pray what follows from his boiling brain 
He sinks to Southey level in a trice
Whose Epic Mountains never fail in mice
Not so of yore awoke your mighty Sire
The tempered warblings of his master-lyre
Soft as the gentler breathing of the lute
Of Man first disobedience and the fruit
He speaks but as his subject swells along
Earth Heaven and Hades echo with the song
Still to the midst of things he hastens on
As if we witnessed all already done
Leaves on his path whatever seems too mean
To raise the subject or adorn the scene
Gives as each page improves upon the sight
Not smoke from brightness but from darkness light
And truth and fiction with such art compounds
We know not where to fix their several bounds
If you would please the Public deign to hear
What soothes the many-headed monster ear
If your heart triumph when the hands of all
Applaud in thunder at the curtain fall
Deserve those plaudits study Nature page
And sketch the striking traits of every age
While varying Man and varying years unfold
Life little tale so oft so vainly told
Observe his simple childhood dawning days
His pranks his prate his playmates and his plays
Till time at length the mannish tyro weans
And prurient vice outstrips his tardy teens
Behold him Freshman forced no more to groan
O'er Virgil devilish verses and his own
Prayers are too tedious Lectures too abstruse
He flies from Tavell frown to Fordham Mews
Unlucky Tavell doomed to daily cares
By pugilistic pupils and by bears
Fines Tutors tasks Conventions threat in vain
Before hounds hunters and Newmarket Plain
Rough with his elders with his equals rash
Civil to sharpers prodigal of cash
Constant to nought save hazard and a whore
Yet cursing both for both have made him sore
Unread unless since books beguile disease
The P x becomes his passage to Degrees
Fooled pillaged dunned he wastes his terms away
And unexpelled perhaps retires MA
Master of Arts as hells and clubs proclaim
Where scarce a blackleg bears a brighter name
Launched into life extinct his early fire
He apes the selfish prudence of his Sire
Marries for money chooses friends for rank
Buys land and shrewdly trusts not to the Bank
Sits in the Senate gets a son and heir
Sends him to Harrow for himself was there
Mute though he votes unless when called to cheer
His son so sharp he'll see the dog a Peer
Manhood declines Age palsies every limb
He quits the scene or else the scene quits him
Scrapes wealth o'er each departing penny grieves
And Avarice seizes all Ambition leaves
Counts cent per cent and smiles or vainly frets
O'er hoards diminished by young Hopeful debts
Weighs well and wisely what to sell or buy
Complete in all life lessons but to die
Peevish and spiteful doting hard to please
Commending every time save times like these
Crazed querulous forsaken half forgot
Expires unwept is buried Let him rot
But from the Drama let me not digress
Nor spare my precepts though they please you less
Though Woman weep and hardest hearts are stirred
When what is done is rather seen than heard
Yet many deeds preserved in History page
Are better told than acted on the stage
The ear sustains what shocks the timid eye
And Horror thus subsides to Sympathy
True Briton all beside I here am French 
Bloodshed 'tis surely better to retrench
The gladiatorial gore we teach to flow
In tragic scenes disgusts though but in show
We hate the carnage while we see the trick
And find small sympathy in being sick
Not on the stage the regicide Macbeth
Appals an audience with a Monarch death
To gaze when sable Hubert threats to sear
Young Arthur eyes can ours or Nature bear
A haltered heroine Johnson sought to slay 
We saved Irene but half damned the play
And Heaven be praised our tolerating times
Stint Metamorphoses to Pantomimes
And Lewis' self with all his sprites would quake
To change Earl Osmond negro to a snake
Because in scenes exciting joy or grief
We loathe the action which exceeds belief
And yet God knows what may not authors do
Whose Postscripts prate of dyeing heroines blue
Above all things Dan Poet if you can
Eke out your acts I pray with mortal man
Nor call a ghost unless some cursed scrape
Must open ten trap-doors for your escape
Of all the monstrous things I'd fain forbid
I loathe an Opera worse than Dennis did
Where good and evil persons right or wrong
Rage love and aught but moralise in song
Hail last memorial of our foreign friends
Which Gaul allows and still Hesperia lends
Napoleon edicts no embargo lay
On whores spies singers wisely shipped away
Our giant Capital whose squares are spread
Where rustics earned and now may beg their bread
In all iniquity is grown so nice
It scorns amusements which are not of price
Hence the pert shopkeeper whose throbbing ear
Aches with orchestras which he pays to hear
Whom shame not sympathy forbids to snore
His anguish doubling by his own encore
Squeezed in Fop Alley jostled by the beaux
Teased with his hat and trembling for his toes
Scarce wrestles through the night nor tastes of ease
Till the dropped curtain gives a glad release
Why this and more he suffers can ye guess 
Because it costs him dear and makes him dress
So prosper eunuchs from Etruscan schools
Give us but fiddlers and they're sure of fools
Ere scenes were played by many a reverend clerk
What harm if David danced before the ark
In Christmas revels simple country folks
Were pleased with morrice-mumm'ry and coarse jokes
Improving years with things no longer known
Produced blithe Punch and merry Madame Joan
Who still frisk on with feats so lewdly low
'Tis strange Benvolio suffers such a show
Suppressing peer to whom each vice gives place
Oaths boxing begging all save rout and race
Farce followed Comedy and reached her prime
In ever-laughing Foote fantastic time
Mad wag who pardoned none nor spared the best
And turned some very serious things to jest
Nor Church nor State escaped his public sneers
Arms nor the Gown Priests Lawyers Volunteers
Alas poor Yorick now for ever mute
Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote
We smile perforce when histrionic scenes
Ape the swoln dialogue of Kings and Queens
When Crononhotonthologos must die
And Arthur struts in mimic majesty
Moschus with whom once more I hope to sit
And smile at folly if we can't at wit
Yes Friend for thee I'll quit my cynic cell
And bear Swift motto Vive la bagatelle
Which charmed our days in each AEgean clime
As oft at home with revelry and rhyme
Then may Euphrosyne who sped the past
Soothe thy Life scenes nor leave thee in the last
But find in thine like pagan Plato bed
Some merry Manuscript of Mimes when dead
Now to the Drama let us bend our eyes
Where fettered by whig Walpole low she lies
Corruption foiled her for she feared her glance
Decorum left her for an Opera dance
Yet Chesterfield whose polished pen inveighs
'Gainst laughter fought for freedom to our Plays
Unchecked by Megrims of patrician brains
And damning Dulness of Lord Chamberlains
Repeal that act again let Humour roam
Wild o'er the stage we've time for tears at home
Let Archer plant the horns on Sullen brows
And Estifania gull her Copper spouse
The moral scant but that may be excused
Men go not to be lectured but amused
He whom our plays dispose to Good or Ill
Must wear a head in want of Willis' skill
Aye but Macheath example psha no more
It formed no thieves the thief was formed before
And spite of puritans and Collier curse
Plays make mankind no better and no worse
Then spare our stage ye methodistic men
Nor burn damned Drury if it rise again
But why to brain-scorched bigots thus appeal
Can heavenly Mercy dwell with earthly Zeal
For times of fire and faggot let them hope
Times dear alike to puritan or Pope
As pious Calvin saw Servetus blaze
So would new sects on newer victims gaze
E'en now the songs of Solyma begin
Faith cants perplexed apologist of Sin
While the Lord servant chastens whom he loves
And Simeon kicks where Baxter only shoves
Whom Nature guides so writes that every dunce 
Enraptured thinks to do the same at once
But after inky thumbs and bitten nails 
And twenty scattered quires the coxcomb fails
Let Pastoral be dumb for who can hope
To match the youthful eclogues of our Pope
Yet his and Philips' faults of different kind
For Art too rude for Nature too refined
Instruct how hard the medium 'tis to hit
'Twixt too much polish and too coarse a wit
A vulgar scribbler certes stands disgraced
In this nice age when all aspire to taste
The dirty language and the noisome jest
Which pleased in Swift of yore we now detest
Proscribed not only in the world polite 
But even too nasty for a City Knight
Peace to Swift faults his wit hath made them pass
Unmatched by all save matchless Hudibras
Whose author is perhaps the first we meet
Who from our couplet lopped two final feet
Nor less in merit than the longer line
This measure moves a favourite of the Nine
Though at first view eight feet may seem in vain
Formed save in Ode to bear a serious strain 
Yet Scott has shown our wondering isle of late
This measure shrinks not from a theme of weight
And varied skilfully surpasses far
Heroic rhyme but most in Love and War
Whose fluctuations tender or sublime
Are curbed too much by long-recurring rhyme
But many a skilful judge abhors to see
What few admire irregularity
This some vouchsafe to pardon but 'tis hard
When such a word contents a British Bard
And must the Bard his glowing thoughts confine
Lest Censure hover o'er some faulty line
Remove whate'er a critic may suspect
To gain the paltry suffrage of Correct
Or prune the spirit of each daring phrase
To fly from Error not to merit Praise
Ye who seek finished models never cease 
By day and night to read the works of Greece
But our good Fathers never bent their brains
To heathen Greek content with native strains
The few who read a page or used a pen
Were satisfied with Chaucer and old Ben
The jokes and numbers suited to their taste
Were quaint and careless anything but chaste
Yet whether right or wrong the ancient rules
It will not do to call our Fathers fools
Though you and I who eruditely know
To separate the elegant and low
Can also when a hobbling line appears
Detect with fingers in default of ears
In sooth I do not know or greatly care
To learn who our first English strollers were
Or if till roofs received the vagrant art
Our Muse like that of Thespis kept a cart
But this is certain since our Shakespeare days
There pomp enough if little else in plays
Nor will Melpomene ascend her Throne
Without high heels white plume and Bristol stone
Old Comedies still meet with much applause
Though too licentious for dramatic laws
At least we moderns wisely 'tis confest
Curtail or silence the lascivious jest 
Whate'er their follies and their faults beside
Our enterprising Bards pass nought untried
Nor do they merit slight applause who choose
An English subject for an English Muse
And leave to minds which never dare invent
French flippancy and German sentiment
Where is that living language which could claim
Poetic more as philosophic fame
If all our Bards more patient of delay
Would stop like Pope to polish by the way
Lords of the quill whose critical assaults
O'erthrow whole quartos with their quires of faults 
Who soon detect and mark where'er we fail
And prove our marble with too nice a nail
Democritus himself was not so bad
He only 'thought' but 'you' would make us mad
But truth to say most rhymers rarely guard
Against that ridicule they deem so hard
In person negligent they wear from sloth
Beards of a week and nails of annual growth
Reside in garrets fly from those they meet
And walk in alleys rather than the street
With little rhyme less reason if you please
The name of Poet may be got with ease
So that not tuns of helleboric juice
Shall ever turn your head to any use
Write but like Wordsworth live beside a lake
And keep your bushy locks a year from Blake
Then print your book once more return to town
And boys shall hunt your Bardship up and down
Am I not wise if such some poets' plight
To purge in spring like Bayes  before I write
If this precaution softened not my bile
I know no scribbler with a madder style
But since perhaps my feelings are too nice
I cannot purchase Fame at such a price
I'll labour gratis as a grinders' wheel
And blunt myself give edge to other steel
Nor write at all unless to teach the art
To those rehearsing for the Poet part
From Horace show the pleasing paths of song 
And from my own example what is wrong
Though modern practice sometimes differs quite
'Tis just as well to think before you write
Let every book that suits your theme be read
So shall you trace it to the fountain-head
He who has learned the duty which he owes
To friends and country and to pardon foes
Who models his deportment as may best
Accord with Brother Sire or Stranger-guest
Who takes our Laws and Worship as they are
Nor roars reform for Senate Church and Bar
In practice rather than loud precept wise
Bids not his tongue but heart philosophize
Such is the man the Poet should rehearse
As joint exemplar of his life and verse
Sometimes a sprightly wit and tale well told
Without much grace or weight or art will hold
A longer empire o'er the public mind
Than sounding trifles empty though refined
Unhappy Greece thy sons of ancient days
The Muse may celebrate with perfect praise
Whose generous children narrowed not their hearts
With Commerce given alone to Arms and Arts
Our boys save those whom public schools compel
To Long and Short before they're taught to spell
From frugal fathers soon imbibe by rote
A penny saved my lad  a penny got
Babe of a city birth from sixpence take
The third how much will the remainder make 
A groat Ah bravo Dick hath done the sum
He'll swell my fifty thousand to a Plum
They whose young souls receive this rust betimes
'Tis clear are fit for anything but rhymes
And Locke will tell you that the father right
Who hides all verses from his children sight
For Poets says this Sage and many more
Make sad mechanics with their lyric lore
And Delphi now however rich of old
Discovers little silver and less gold
Because Parnassus though a Mount divine
Is poor as Irus or an Irish mine
Two objects always should the Poet move
Or one or both to please or to improve
Whate'er you teach be brief if you design
For our remembrance your didactic line
Redundance places Memory on the rack
For brains may be o'erloaded like the back
Fiction does best when taught to look like Truth
And fairy fables bubble none but youth
Expect no credit for too wondrous tales
Since Jonas only springs alive from Whales
Young men with aught but Elegance dispense
Maturer years require a little Sense
To end at once that Bard for all is fit
Who mingles well instruction with his wit
For him Reviews shall smile for him o'erflow
The patronage of Paternoster-row
His book with Longman liberal aid shall pass
Who ne'er despises books that bring him brass
Through three long weeks the taste of London lead
And cross St George Channel and the Tweed
But every thing has faults nor is't unknown
That harps and fiddles often lose their tone
And wayward voices at their owner call
With all his best endeavours only squall
Dogs blink their covey flints withhold the spark
And double-barrels damn them miss their mark
Where frequent beauties strike the reader view
We must not quarrel for a blot or two
But pardon equally to books or men
The slips of Human Nature and the Pen
Yet if an author spite of foe or friend
Despises all advice too much to mend
But ever twangs the same discordant string
Give him no quarter howsoe'er he sing
Let Havard fate o'ertake him who for once
Produced a play too dashing for a dunce
At first none deemed it his but when his name
Announced the fact what then it lost its fame
Though all deplore when Milton deigns to doze
In a long work 'tis fair to steal repose
As Pictures so shall Poems be some stand
The critic eye and please when near at hand
But others at a distance strike the sight
This seeks the shade but that demands the light
Nor dreads the connoisseur fastidious view
But ten times scrutinised is ten times new
Parnassian pilgrims ye whom chance or choice
Hath led to listen to the Muse voice
Receive this counsel and be timely wise
Few reach the Summit which before you lies
Our Church and State our Courts and Camps concede
Reward to very moderate heads indeed
In these plain common sense will travel far
All are not Erskines who mislead the Bar
But Poesy between the best and worst
No medium knows you must be last or first
For middling Poets' miserable volumes
Are damned alike by Gods and Men and Columns
Again my Jeffrey as that sound inspires
How wakes my bosom to its wonted fires
Fires such as gentle Caledonians feel
When Southrons writhe upon their critic wheel
Or mild Eclectics when some worse than Turks
Would rob poor Faith to decorate Good Works
Such are the genial feelings them canst claim 
My Falcon flies not at ignoble game
Mightiest of all Dunedin beasts of chase
For thee my Pegasus would mend his pace
Arise my Jeffrey or my inkless pen
Shall never blunt its edge on meaner men
Till thee or thine mine evil eye discerns
Alas I cannot strike at wretched kernes
Inhuman Saxon wilt thou then resign
A Muse and heart by choice so wholly thine
Dear d d contemner of my schoolboy songs
Hast thou no vengeance for my Manhood wrongs
If unprovoked thou once could bid me bleed
Hast thou no weapon for my daring deed
What not a word and am I then so low
Wilt thou forbear who never spared a foe
Hast thou no wrath or wish to give it vent
No wit for Nobles Dunces by descent
No jest on minors quibbles on a name
Nor one facetious paragraph of blame
Is it for this on Ilion I have stood
And thought of Homer less than Holyrood
On shore of Euxine or AEgean sea
My hate untravelled fondly turned to thee
Ah let me cease in vain my bosom burns
From Corydon unkind Alexis turns
Thy rhymes are vain thy Jeffrey then forego
Nor woo that anger which he will not show
What then Edina starves some lanker son
To write an article thou canst not shun
Some less fastidious Scotchman shall be found
As bold in Billingsgate though less renowned
As if at table some discordant dish
Should shock our optics such as frogs for fish
As oil in lieu of butter men decry
And poppies please not in a modern pie
If all such mixtures then be half a crime
We must have Excellence to relish rhyme
Mere roast and boiled no Epicure invites
Thus Poetry disgusts or else delights
Who shoot not flying rarely touch a gun
Will he who swims not to the river run
And men unpractised in exchanging knocks
Must go to Jackson ere they dare to box
Whate'er the weapon cudgel fist or foil
None reach expertness without years of toil
But fifty dunces can with perfect ease
Tag twenty thousand couplets when they please
Why not shall I thus qualified to sit
For rotten boroughs never show my wit
Shall I whose fathers with the Quorum sate
And lived in freedom on a fair estate
Who left me heir with stables kennels packs
To 'all' their income and to 'twice' its tax
Whose form and pedigree have scarce a fault
Shall I I say suppress my Attic Salt
Thus think the Mob of Gentlemen but you
Besides all this must have some Genius too
Be this your sober judgment and a rule
And print not piping hot from Southey school
Who ere another Thalaba appears
I trust will spare us for at least nine years
And hark'ye Southey pray but don't be vexed 
Burn all your last three works and half the next
But why this vain advice once published books
Can never be recalled from pastry-cooks
Though Madoc with Pucelle instead of Punk
May travel back to Quito on a trunk
Orpheus we learn from Ovid and Lempriere
Led all wild beasts but Women by the ear
And had he fiddled at the present hour
We'd seen the Lions waltzing in the Tower
And old Amphion such were minstrels then
Had built St Paul without the aid of Wren
Verse too was Justice and the Bards of Greece
Did more than constables to keep the peace
Abolished cuckoldom with much applause
Called county meetings and enforced the laws
Cut down crown influence with reforming scythes
And served the Church without demanding tithes
And hence throughout all Hellas and the East
Each Poet was a Prophet and a Priest
Whose old-established Board of Joint Controls
Included kingdoms in the cure of souls
Next rose the martial Homer Epic prince
And Fighting been in fashion ever since
And old Tyrtaeus when the Spartans warred
A limping leader but a lofty bard
Though walled Ithome had resisted long
Reduced the fortress by the force of song
When Oracles prevailed in times of old
In song alone Apollo will was told
Then if your verse is what all verse should be
And Gods were not ashamed on't why should we
The Muse like mortal females may be wooed
In turns she'll seem a Paphian or a prude
Fierce as a bride when first she feels affright
Mild as the same upon the second night
Wild as the wife of Alderman or Peer
Now for His Grace and now a grenadier
Her eyes beseem her heart belies her zone 
Ice in a crowd and Lava when alone
If Verse be studied with some show of Art
Kind Nature always will perform her part
Though without Genius and a native vein
Of wit we loathe an artificial strain
Yet Art and Nature joined will win the prize
Unless they act like us and our allies
The youth who trains to ride or run a race
Must bear privations with unruffled face
Be called to labour when he thinks to dine
And harder still leave wenching and his wine
Ladies who sing at least who sing at sight
Have followed Music through her farthest flight
But rhymers tell you neither more nor less
I've got a pretty poem for the Press
And that enough then write and print so fast 
If Satan take the hindmost who'd be last
They storm the Types they publish one and all
They leap the counter and they leave the stall
Provincial Maidens men of high command
Yea Baronets have inked the bloody hand
Cash cannot quell them Pollio played this prank
Then Phoebus first found credit in a Bank
Not all the living only but the dead
Fool on as fluent as an Orpheus' Head
Damned all their days they posthumously thrive
Dug up from dust though buried when alive
Reviews record this epidemic crime
Those Books of Martyrs to the rage for rhyme
Alas woe worth the scribbler often seen
In Morning Post or Monthly Magazine
There lurk his earlier lays but soon hot pressed
Behold a Quarto Tarts must tell the rest
Then leave ye wise the Lyre precarious chords
To muse-mad baronets or madder lords
Or country Crispins now grown somewhat stale
Twin Doric minstrels drunk with Doric ale
Hark to those notes narcotically soft
The Cobbler-Laureats sing to Capel Lofft
Till lo that modern Midas as he hears
Adds an ell growth to his egregious ears
There lives one Druid who prepares in time
'Gainst future feuds his poor revenge of rhyme
Racks his dull Memory and his duller Muse
To publish faults which Friendship should excuse
If Friendship nothing Self-regard might teach
More polished usage of his parts of speech
But what is shame or what is aught to him
He vents his spleen or gratifies his whim
Some fancied slight has roused his lurking hate
Some folly crossed some jest or some debate
Up to his den Sir Scribbler hies and soon
The gathered gall is voided in Lampoon
Perhaps at some pert speech you've dared to frown
Perhaps your Poem may have pleased the Town
If so alas 'tis nature in the man 
May Heaven forgive you for he never can
Then be it so and may his withering Bays
Bloom fresh in satire though they fade in praise
While his lost songs no more shall steep and stink
The dullest fattest weeds on Lethe brink
But springing upwards from the sluggish mould
Be what they never were before be sold
Should some rich Bard but such a monster now
In modern Physics we can scarce allow
Should some pretending scribbler of the Court
Some rhyming Peer there plenty of the sort 
All but one poor dependent priest withdrawn
Ah too regardless of his Chaplain yawn
Condemn the unlucky Curate to recite
Their last dramatic work by candle-light
How would the preacher turn each rueful leaf
Dull as his sermons but not half so brief
Yet since 'tis promised at the Rector death
He'll risk no living for a little breath
Then spouts and foams and cries at every line
The Lord forgive him Bravo Grand Divine
Hoarse with those praises which by Flatt'ry fed
Dependence barters for her bitter bread
He strides and stamps along with creaking boot
Till the floor echoes his emphatic foot
Then sits again then rolls his pious eye
As when the dying vicar will not die
Nor feels forsooth emotion at his heart 
But all Dissemblers overact their part
Ye who aspire to build the lofty rhyme
Believe not all who laud your false sublime
But if some friend shall hear your work and say
Expunge that stanza lop that line away
And after fruitless efforts you return
Without amendment and he answers Burn
That instant throw your paper in the fire
Ask not his thoughts or follow his desire
But if true Bard you scorn to condescend
And will not alter what you can't defend
If you will breed this Bastard of your Brains
We'll have no words I've only lost my pains
Yet if you only prize your favourite thought
As critics kindly do and authors ought
If your cool friend annoy you now and then
And cross whole pages with his plaguy pen
No matter throw your ornaments aside 
Better let him than all the world deride
Give light to passages too much in shade
Nor let a doubt obscure one verse you've made
Your friend a Johnson not to leave one word
However trifling which may seem absurd
Such erring trifles lead to serious ills
And furnish food for critics or their quills
As the Scotch fiddle with its touching tune
Or the sad influence of the angry Moon
All men avoid bad writers' ready tongues
As yawning waiters fly Fitzscribble lungs
Yet on he mouths ten minutes tedious each
As Prelate homily or placeman speech
Long as the last years of a lingering lease
When Riot pauses until Rents increase
While such a minstrel muttering fustian strays
O'er hedge and ditch through unfrequented ways
If by some chance he walks into a well
And shouts for succour with stentorian yell
A rope help Christians as ye hope for grace
Nor woman man nor child will stir a pace
For there his carcass he might freely fling
From frenzy or the humour of the thing
Though this has happened to more Bards than one
I'll tell you Budgell story and have done
Budgell a rogue and rhymester for no good
Unless his case be much misunderstood
When teased with creditors' continual claims
To die like Cato leapt into the Thames
And therefore be it lawful through the town
For any Bard to poison hang or drown
Who saves the intended Suicide receives
Small thanks from him who loathes the life he leaves
And sooth to say mad poets must not lose
The Glory of that death they freely choose
Nor is it certain that some sorts of verse
Prick not the Poet conscience as a curse
Dosed with vile drams on Sunday he was found
Or got a child on consecrated ground
And hence is haunted with a rhyming rage 
Feared like a bear just bursting from his cage
If free all fly his versifying fit
Fatal at once to Simpleton or Wit
But 'him' unhappy whom he seizes 'him
He flays with Recitation limb by limb
Probes to the quick where'er he makes his breach
And gorges like a Lawyer or a Leech
The fervid Sun had more than halv'd the day
When gloomy on his couch Philedon lay
His feeble frame consumptive as his purse
His aching head did wine and women curse
His fortune ruin'd and his wealth decay'd 
Clamorous his duns his gaming debts unpaid
The youth indignant seiz'd his tailor bill
And on its back thus wrote with moral quill
'Various as colours in the rainbow shown
Or similar in emptiness alone 
How false how vain are Man pursuits below
Wealth Honour Pleasure what can ye bestow
Yet see how high and low and young and old
Pursue the all-delusive power of Gold
Fond man should all Peru thy empire own 
For thee tho' all Golconda jewels shone
What greater bliss could all this wealth supply
What but to eat and drink and sleep and die
Go tempt the stormy sea the burning soil 
Go waste the night in thought the day in toil 
Dark frowns the rock and fierce the tempests rave 
Thy ingots go the unconscious deep to pave
Or thunder at thy door the midnight train
Or Death shall knock that never knocks in vain
Next Honour sons come bustling on amain 
I laugh with pity at the idle train
Infirm of soul who think'st to lift thy name
Upon the waxen wings of human fame 
Who for a sound articulated breath 
Gazest undaunted in the face of death 
What art thou but a Meteor glaring light 
Blazing a moment and then sunk in night
Caprice which rais'd thee high shall hurl thee low
Or Envy blast the laurels on thy brow
To such poor joys could ancient Honour lead 
When empty fame was toiling Merit meed
To Modern Honour other lays belong
Profuse of joy and Lord of right and wrong
Honour can game drink riot in the stew
Cut a friend throat what cannot Honour do 
Ah me the storm within can Honour still
For Julio death whom Honour made me kill
Or will this lordly Honour tell the way
To pay those debts which Honour makes me pay
Or if with pistol and terrific threats 
I make some traveller pay my Honour debts
A medicine for this wound can Honour give
Ah no my Honour dies to make my Honour live
But see young Pleasure and her train advance
And joy and laughter wake the inebriate dance 
Around my neck she throws her fair white arms
I meet her loves and madden at her charms
For the gay grape can joys celestial move
And what so sweet below as Woman love
With such high transport every moment flies 
I curse Experience that he makes me wise
For at his frown the dear deliriums flew
And the changed scene now wears a gloomy hue
A hideous hag th' Enchantress Pleasure seems
And all her joys appear but feverous dreams 
The vain resolve still broken and still made
Disease and loathing and remorse invade
The charm is vanish'd and the bubble broke 
A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke
Such lays repentant did the Muse supply 
When as the Sun was hastening down the sky
In glittering state twice fifty guineas come 
His Mother plate antique had rais'd the sum
Forth leap'd Philedon of new life possest 
Imagination Mistress of my Love
Where shall mine Eye thy elfin haunt explore
Dost thou on yon rich Cloud thy pinions bright
Embathe in amber-glowing Floods of Light
Or wild of speed pursue the track of Day 
In other worlds to hail the morning Ray
'Tis time to bid the faded shadowy Pleasures move
On shadowy Memory wings across the Soul of Love
And thine o'er Winter icy plains to fling
Each flower that binds the breathing Locks of Spring 
When blushing like a bride from primrose Bower
She starts awaken'd by the pattering Shower
Now sheds the setting Sun a purple gleam
Aid lovely Sorc'ress aid the Poet dream
With faery wand O bid my Love arise 
The dewy brilliance dancing in her Eyes
As erst she woke with soul-entrancing Mien
The thrill of Joy extatic yet serene
When link'd with Peace I bounded o'er the Plain
And Hope itself was all I knew of Pain 
Propitious Fancy hears the votive sigh 
The absent Maiden flashes on mine Eye
When first the matin Bird with startling Song
Salutes the Sun his veiling Clouds among
I trace her footsteps on the steaming Lawn 
I view her glancing in the gleams of Dawn
When the bent Flower beneath the night-dew weeps
And on the Lake the silver Lustre sleeps
Amid the paly Radiance soft and sad
She meets my lonely path in moonbeams clad 
With her along the streamlet brink I rove
With her I list the warblings of the Grove
And seems in each low wind her voice to float
Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing Note
As oft in climes beyond the western Main 
Where boundless spreads the wildly-silent Plain
The savage Hunter who his drowsy frame
Had bask'd beneath the Sun unclouded Flame
Awakes amid the tempest-troubled air
The Thunder Peal and Lightning lurid glare  
Aghast he hears the rushing Whirlwind Sweep
And sad recalls the sunny hour of Sleep
So lost by storms along Life wild'ring Way
Mine Eye reverted views that cloudless Day
When   on thy banks I joy'd to rove 
While Hope with kisses nurs'd the infant Love
Sweet   where Pleasure streamlet glides
Fann'd by soft winds to curl in mimic tides
Where Mirth and Peace beguile the blameless Day
And where Friendship fixt star beams a mellow'd Ray 
Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears
Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears
And Memory with a Vestal meek employ
Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of Joy
No more thy Sky Larks less'ning from my sight 
Shall thrill th' attuned Heartstring with delight
No more shall deck thy pensive Pleasures sweet
With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat
Yet dear to Fancy Eye thy varied scene
Of Wood Hill Dale and sparkling Brook between 
Yet sweet to Fancy Ear the warbled song
That soars on Morning wing thy fields among
Scenes of my Hope the aching Eye ye leave
Like those rich Hues that paint the clouds of Eve
Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd Blaze 
Mine Eye the gleam pursues with wistful Gaze 
Sees Shades on Shades with deeper tint impend
Till chill and damp the moonless Night descend
O thou wild Fancy check thy wing No more
Those thin white flakes those purple clouds explore
Nor there with happy spirits speed thy flight
Bath'  in rich amber-glowing floods of light
Nor in yon gleam where slow descends the day 
With western peasants hail the morning ray
Ah rather bid the perish'd pleasures move
A shadowy train across the soul of Love
O'er Disappointment wintry desert fling
Each flower that wreath'  the dewy locks of Spring 
When blushing like a bride from Hope trim bower
She leapt awaken'd by the pattering shower
Now sheds the sinking Sun a deeper gleam
Aid lovely Sorceress aid thy Poet dream
With faery wand O bid the Maid arise 
Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes
As erst when from the Muses' calm abode
I came with Learning meed not unbestowed
When as she twin'd a laurel round my brow
And met my kiss and half return'd my vow 
O'er all my frame shot rapid my thrill'd heart
And every nerve confess'd the electric dart
O dear Deceit I see the Maiden rise
Chaste Joyance dancing in her bright-blue eyes
When first the lark high-soaring swells his throat 
Mocks the tir'd eye and scatters the loud note
I trace her footsteps on the accustom'd lawn
I mark her glancing mid the gleam of dawn
When the bent flower beneath the night-dew weeps
And on the lake the silver lustre sleeps 
Amid the paly radiance soft and sad
She meets my lonely path in moon-beams clad
With her along the streamlet brink I rove
With her I list the warblings of the grove
And seems in each low wind her voice to float 
Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing note
Spirits of Love ye heard her name Obey
The powerful spell and to my haunt repair
Whether on clust'ring pinions ye are there
Where rich snows blossom on the Myrtle-trees 
Or with fond languishment around my fair
Sigh in the loose luxuriance of her hair
O heed the spell and hither wing your way
Like far-off music voyaging the breeze
Spirits to you the infant Maid was given 
Form'd by the wond'rous Alchemy of Heaven
No fairer Maid does Love wide empire know
No fairer Maid e'er heav'd the bosom snow
A thousand Loves around her forehead fly
A thousand Loves sit melting in her eye 
Love lights her smile in Joy red nectar dips
His myrtle flower and plants it on her lips
She speaks and hark that passion-warbled song 
Still Fancy still that voice those notes prolong
As sweet as when that voice with rapturous falls 
Shall wake the soften'd echoes of Heaven Halls
O have I sigh'd were mine the wizard rod
Or mine the power of Proteus changeful God
A flower-entangled Arbour I would seem
To shield my Love from Noontide sultry beam 
Or bloom a Myrtle from whose od'rous boughs
My Love might weave gay garlands for her brows
When Twilight stole across the fading vale
To fan my Love I'd be the Evening Gale
Mourn in the soft folds of her swelling vest 
And flutter my faint pinions on her breast
On Seraph wing I'd float a Dream by night
To soothe my Love with shadows of delight 
Or soar aloft to be the Spangled Skies
And gaze upon her with a thousand eyes 
As when the Savage who his drowsy frame
Had bask'd beneath the Sun unclouded flame
Awakes amid the troubles of the air
The skiey deluge and white lightning glare 
Aghast he scours before the tempest sweep 
And sad recalls the sunny hour of sleep 
So tossed by storms along Life wild'ring way
Mine eye reverted views that cloudless day
When by my native brook I wont to rove
While Hope with kisses nurs'd the Infant Love 
Dear native brook like Peace so placidly
Smoothing through fertile fields thy current meek
Dear native brook where first young Poesy
Stared wildly-eager in her noontide dream
Where blameless pleasures dimple Quiet cheek 
As water-lilies ripple thy slow stream
Dear native haunts where Virtue still is gay
Where Friendship fix'd star sheds a mellow'd ray
Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears
Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears 
And Memory with a Vestal chaste employ
Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of joy
No more your sky-larks melting from the sight
Shall thrill the attuned heart-string with delight 
No more shall deck your pensive Pleasures sweet 
With wreaths of sober hue my evening seat
Yet dear to Fancy eye your varied scene
Of wood hill dale and sparkling brook between
Yet sweet to Fancy ear the warbled song
That soars on Morning wing your vales among 
Scenes of my Hope the aching eye ye leave
Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve
Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd blaze
Mine eye the gleam pursues with wistful gaze
Sees shades on shades with deeper tint impend 
Till chill and damp the moonless night descend
Once more sweet Stream with slow foot wandering near
I bless thy milky waters cold and clear
Escap'd the flashing of the noontide hours
With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers
Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink I turn 
My languid hand shall wreath thy mossy urn
For not through pathless grove with murmur rude
Thou soothest the sad wood-nymph Solitude
Nor thine unseen in cavern depths to well
The Hermit-fountain of some dripping cell 
Pride of the Vale thy useful streams supply
The scatter'd cots and peaceful hamlet nigh
The elfin tribe around thy friendly banks
With infant uproar and soul-soothing pranks
Releas'd from school their little hearts at rest 
Launch paper navies on thy waveless breast
The rustic here at eve with pensive look
Whistling lorn ditties leans upon his crook
Or starting pauses with hope-mingled dread
To list the much-lov'd maid accustom'd tread 
She vainly mindful of her dame command
Loiters the long-fill'd pitcher in her hand
Unboastful Stream thy fount with pebbled falls
The faded form of past delight recalls
What time the morning sun of Hope arose 
And all was joy save when another woes
A transient gloom upon my soul imprest
Like passing clouds impictur'd on thy breast
Life current then ran sparkling to the noon
Or silvery stole beneath the pensive Moon 
Ah now it works rude brakes and thorns among
Or o'er the rough rock bursts and foams along
Much on my early youth I love to dwell
Ere yet I bade that friendly dome farewell
Where first beneath the echoing cloisters pale
I heard of guilt and wonder'd at the tale
Yet though the hours flew by on careless wing 
Full heavily of Sorrow would I sing
Aye as the Star of Evening flung its beam
In broken radiance on the wavy stream
My soul amid the pensive twilight gloom
Mourn'd with the breeze O Lee Boo o'er thy tomb 
Where'er I wander'd Pity still was near
Breath'  from the heart and glisten'd in the tear
No knell that toll'd but fill'd my anxious eye
And suffering Nature wept that one should die
Thus to sad sympathies I sooth'  my breast 
Calm as the rainbow in the weeping West
When slumbering Freedom roused by high Disdain
With giant Fury burst her triple chain
Fierce on her front the blasting Dog-star glow'd
Her banners like a midnight meteor flow'd 
Amid the yelling of the storm-rent skies
She came and scatter'd battles from her eyes
Then Exultation waked the patriot fire
And swept with wild hand the Tyrtaean lyre
Red from the Tyrant wound I shook the lance 
And strode in joy the reeking plains of France
Fallen is the Oppressor friendless ghastly low
And my heart aches though Mercy struck the blow
With wearied thought once more I seek the shade
Where peaceful Virtue weaves the Myrtle braid 
And O if Eyes whose holy glances roll
Swift messengers and eloquent of soul
If Smiles more winning and a gentler Mien
Than the love-wilder'd Maniac brain hath seen
Shaping celestial forms in vacant air 
If these demand the empassion'd Poet care 
If Mirth and soften'd Sense and Wit refined
The blameless features of a lovely mind
Then haply shall my trembling hand assign
No fading wreath to Beauty saintly shrine 
Nor Sara thou these early flowers refuse 
Ne'er lurk'd the snake beneath their simple hues
No purple bloom the Child of Nature brings
Poor little Foal of an oppressed race
I love the languid patience of thy face
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread
And clap thy ragged coat and pat thy head
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd 
That never thou dost sport along the glade
And most unlike the nature of things young
That earthward still thy moveless head is hung
Do thy prophetic fears anticipate
Meek Child of Misery thy future fate 
The starving meal and all the thousand aches
'Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes'
Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
To see thy wretched mother shorten'd chain
And truly very piteous is her lot  
Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot
Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen
While sweet around her waves the tempting green
Poor Ass thy master should have learnt to show
Pity best taught by fellowship of Woe 
For much I fear me that He lives like thee
Half famish'd in a land of Luxury
How askingly its footsteps hither bend
It seems to say 'And have I then one friend
Innocent foal thou poor despis'd forlorn 
I hail thee Brother spite of the fool scorn
And fain would take thee with me in the Dell
Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell
Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride
And Laughter tickle Plenty ribless side 
How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play
And frisk about as lamb or kitten gay
Yea and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest 
The aching of pale Fashion vacant breast
dmund thy grave with aching eye I scan
And inly groan for Heaven poor outcast Man
'Tis tempest all or gloom in early youth
If gifted with th' Ithuriel lance of Truth
We force to start amid her feign'd caress 
Vice siren-hag in native ugliness
A Brother fate will haply rouse the tear
And on we go in heaviness and fear
But if our fond hearts call to Pleasure bower
Some pigmy Folly in a careless hour 
The faithless guest shall stamp the enchanted ground
And mingled forms of Misery rise around
Heart-fretting Fear with pallid look aghast
That courts the future woe to hide the past
Remorse the poison'd arrow in his side 
And loud lewd Mirth to Anguish close allied
Till Frenzy fierce-eyed child of moping Pain
Darts her hot lightning-flash athwart the brain
Rest injur'd shade Shall Slander squatting near
Spit her cold venom in a dead man ear 
'Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow
In Merit joy and Poverty meek woe
Thine all that cheer the moment as it flies
The zoneless Cares and smiling Courtesies
Nurs'd in thy heart the firmer Virtues grew 
And in thy heart they wither'd Such chill dew
Wan Indolence on each young blossom shed
And Vanity her filmy net-work spread
With eye that roll'd around in asking gaze
And tongue that traffick'd in the trade of praise 
Thy follies such the hard world mark'd them well
Were they more wise the Proud who never fell
Rest injur'd shade the poor man grateful prayer
On heaven-ward wing thy wounded soul shall bear
As oft at twilight gloom thy grave I pass 
And sit me down upon its recent grass
With introverted eye I contemplate
Similitude of soul perhaps of Fate
To me hath Heaven with bounteous hand assign'd
Energic Reason and a shaping mind 
The daring ken of Truth the Patriot part
And Pity sigh that breathes the gentle heart 
Sloth-jaundic'd all and from my graspless hand
Drop Friendship precious pearls like hour-glass sand
I weep yet stoop not the faint anguish flows 
A dreamy pang in Morning feverous doze
Is this piled earth our Being passless mound
Tell me cold grave is Death with poppies crown'd
Tired Sentinel mid fitful starts I nod
And fain would sleep though pillowed on a clod
h cease thy tears and sobs my little Life
I did but snatch away the unclasp'd knife
Some safer toy will soon arrest thine eye
And to quick laughter change this peevish cry
Poor stumbler on the rocky coast of Woe 
Tutor'd by Pain each source of pain to know
Alike the foodful fruit and scorching fire
Awake thy eager grasp and young desire
Alike the Good the Ill offend thy sight
And rouse the stormy sense of shrill Affright 
Untaught yet wise mid all thy brief alarms
Thou closely clingest to thy Mother arms
Nestling thy little face in that fond breast
Whose anxious heavings lull thee to thy rest
Man breathing Miniature thou mak'st me sigh  
A Babe art thou and such a Thing am I
To anger rapid and as soon appeas'd
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleas'd
Break Friendship mirror with a tetchy blow
Yet snatch what coals of fire on Pleasure altar glow 
O thou that rearest with celestial aim
The future Seraph in my mortal frame
Thrice holy Faith whatever thorns I meet
As on I totter with unpractis'd feet
Still let me stretch my arms and cling to thee 
Meek nurse of souls through their long Infancy
Sister of love-lorn Poets Philomel
How many Bards in city garret pent
While at their window they with downward eye
Mark the faint lamp-beam on the kennell'd mud
And listen to the drowsy cry of Watchmen 
Those hoarse unfeather'd Nightingales of Time
How many wretched Bards address thy name
And hers the full-orb'd Queen that shines above
But I do hear thee and the high bough mark
Within whose mild moon-mellow'd foliage hid 
Thou warblest sad thy pity-pleading strains
O I have listened till my working soul
Waked by those strains to thousand phantasies
Absorb'd hath ceas'd to listen Therefore oft
I hymn thy name and with a proud delight 
Oft will I tell thee Minstrel of the Moon
'Most musical most melancholy' Bird
That all thy soft diversities of tone
Tho' sweeter far than the delicious airs
That vibrate from a white-arm'd Lady harp 
What time the languishment of lonely love
Melts in her eye and heaves her breast of snow
Are not so sweet as is the voice of her
My Sara best beloved of human kind
When breathing the pure soul of tenderness 
She thrills me with the Husband promis'd name
O Peace that on a lilied bank dost love
To rest thine head beneath an Olive-Tree
I would that from the pinions of thy Dove
One quill withouten pain ypluck'd might be
For O I wish my Sara frowns to flee 
And fain to her some soothing song would write
Lest she resent my rude discourtesy
Who vow'd to meet her ere the morning light
But broke my plighted word ah false and recreant wight
Last night as I my weary head did pillow 
With thoughts of my dissever'd Fair engross'd
Chill Fancy droop'd wreathing herself with willow
As though my breast entomb'd a pining ghost
'From some blest couch young Rapture bridal boast
Rejected Slumber hither wing thy way 
But leave me with the matin hour at most
As night-clos'd floweret to the orient ray
My sad heart will expand when I the Maid survey
But Love who heard the silence of my thought
Contriv'd a too successful wile I ween 
And whisper'd to himself with malice fraught 
'Too long our Slave the Damsel smiles hath seen
To-morrow shall he ken her alter'd mien
He spake and ambush'd lay till on my bed
The morning shot her dewy glances keen 
When as I 'gan to lift my drowsy head 
'Now Bard I'll work thee woe' the laughing Elfin said
Sleep softly-breathing God his downy wing
Was fluttering now as quickly to depart
When twang'd an arrow from Love mystic string 
With pathless wound it pierc'd him to the heart
Was there some magic in the Elfin dart
Or did he strike my couch with wizard lance
For straight so fair a Form did upwards start
No fairer deck'd the bowers of old Romance 
That Sleep enamour'd grew nor mov'd from his sweet trance
My Sara came with gentlest look divine
Bright shone her eye yet tender was its beam
I felt the pressure of her lip to mine
Whispering we went and Love was all our theme  
Love pure and spotless as at first I deem
He sprang from Heaven Such joys with Sleep did 'bide
That I the living Image of my Dream
Fondly forgot Too late I woke and sigh'd 
'O how shall I behold my Love at eventide
My pensive Sara thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot our Cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd Jasmin and the broad-leav'd Myrtle
Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love 
And watch the clouds that late were rich with light
Slow saddening round and mark the star of eve
Serenely brilliant such should Wisdom be
Shine opposite How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field and the world so hush'd 
The stilly murmur of the distant Sea
Tells us of silence And that simplest Lute
Placed length-ways in the clasping casement hark
How by the desultory breeze caress'd
Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover 
It pours such sweet upbraiding as must needs
Tempt to repeat the wrong And now its strings
Boldlier swept the long sequacious notes
Over delicious surges sink and rise
Such a soft floating witchery of sound 
As twilight Elfins make when they at eve
Voyage on gentle gales from Fairy-Land
Where Melodies round honey-dropping flowers
Footless and wild like birds of Paradise
Nor pause nor perch hovering on untam'd wing 
O the one Life within us and abroad
Which meets all motion and becomes its soul
A light in sound a sound-like power in light
Rhythm in all thought and joyance every where 
Methinks it should have been impossible 
Not to love all things in a world so fill'd
Where the breeze warbles and the mute still air
Is Music slumbering on her instrument
And thus my Love as on the midway slope
Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon 
Whilst through my half-closed eye-lids I behold
The sunbeams dance like diamonds on the main
And tranquil muse upon tranquillity
Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd
And many idle flitting phantasies 
Traverse my indolent and passive brain
As wild and various as the random gales
That swell and flutter on this subject Lute
And what if all of animated nature
Be but organic Harps diversely fram'd 
That tremble into thought as o'er them sweeps
Plastic and vast one intellectual breeze
At once the Soul of each and God of all
But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
Darts O beloved Woman nor such thoughts 
Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject
And biddest me walk humbly with my God
Meek Daughter in the family of Christ
Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
These shapings of the unregenerate mind 
Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On vain Philosophy aye-babbling spring
For never guiltless may I speak of him
The Incomprehensible save when with awe
I praise him and with Faith that inly feels 
Who with his saving mercies healed me
A sinful and most miserable man
Wilder'd and dark and gave me to possess
Peace and this Cot and thee heart-honour'd Maid
nboastful Bard whose verse concise yet clear
Tunes to smooth melody unconquer'd sense
May your fame fadeless live as 'never-sere
The Ivy wreathes yon Oak whose broad defence
Embowers me from Noon sultry influence 
For like that nameless Rivulet stealing by
Your modest verse to musing Quiet dear
Is rich with tints heaven-borrow'd the charm'd eye
Shall gaze undazzled there and love the soften'd sky
Circling the base of the Poetic mount 
A stream there is which rolls in lazy flow
Its coal-black waters from Oblivion fount
The vapour-poison'd Birds that fly too low
Fall with dead swoop and to the bottom go
Escaped that heavy stream on pinion fleet 
Beneath the Mountain lofty-frowning brow
Ere aught of perilous ascent you meet
A mead of mildest charm delays th' unlabouring feet
Not there the cloud-climb'd rock sublime and vast
That like some giant king o'er-glooms the hill 
Nor there the Pine-grove to the midnight blast
Makes solemn music But th' unceasing rill
To the soft Wren or Lark descending trill
Murmurs sweet undersong 'mid jasmin bowers
In this same pleasant meadow at your will 
I ween you wander'd there collecting flowers
Of sober tint and herbs of med'cinable powers
There for the monarch-murder'd Soldier tomb
You wove th' unfinish'd wreath of saddest hues
And to that holier chaplet added bloom 
Besprinkling it with Jordan cleansing dews
But lo your Henderson awakes the Muse 
His Spirit beckon'd from the mountain height
You left the plain and soar'd mid richer views
So Nature mourn'd when sunk the First Day light 
With stars unseen before spangling her robe of night
Still soar my Friend those richer views among
Strong rapid fervent flashing Fancy beam
Virtue and Truth shall love your gentler song
But Poesy demands th' impassion'd theme 
Waked by Heaven silent dews at Eve mild gleam
What balmy sweets Pomona breathes around
But if the vext air rush a stormy stream
Or Autumn shrill gust moan in plaintive sound
Low was our pretty Cot our tallest Rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window We could hear
At silent noon and eve and early morn
The Sea faint murmur In the open air
Our Myrtles blossom'd and across the porch 
Thick Jasmins twined the little landscape round
Was green and woody and refresh'd the eye
It was a spot which you might aptly call
The Valley of Seclusion Once I saw
Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness 
A wealthy son of Commerce saunter by
Bristowa citizen methought it calm'd
His thirst of idle gold and made him muse
With wiser feelings for he paus'd and look'd
With a pleas'd sadness and gaz'd all around 
Then eyed our Cottage and gaz'd round again
And sigh'd and said it was a Blessed Place
And we were bless'd Oft with patient ear
Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark note
Viewless or haply for a moment seen 
Gleaming on sunny wings in whisper'd tones
I've said to my Beloved 'Such sweet Girl
The inobtrusive song of Happiness
Unearthly minstrelsy then only heard
When the Soul seeks to hear when all is hush'd 
And the Heart listens' But the time when first
From that low Dell steep up the stony Mount
I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd the top
Oh what a goodly scene Here the bleak mount
The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with sheep 
Grey clouds that shadowing spot the sunny fields
And river now with bushy rocks o'er-brow'd
Now winding bright and full with naked banks
And seats and lawns the Abbey and the wood
And cots and hamlets and faint city-spire 
The Channel there the Islands and white sails
Dim coasts and cloud-like hills and shoreless Ocean 
It seem'd like Omnipresence God methought
Had built him there a Temple the whole World
Seem'd imag'd in its vast circumference 
No wish profan'd my overwhelmed heart
Blest hour It was a luxury to be
Ah quiet Dell dear Cot and Mount sublime
I was constrain'd to quit you Was it right
While my unnumber'd brethren toil'd and bled 
That I should dream away the entrusted hours
On rose-leaf beds pampering the coward heart
With feelings all too delicate for use
Sweet is the tear that from some Howard eye
Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth 
And he that works me good with unmov'd face
Does it but half he chills me while he aids
My benefactor not my brother man
Yet even this this cold beneficence
Praise praise it O my Soul oft as thou scann'st 
The sluggard Pity vision-weaving tribe
Who sigh for Wretchedness yet shun the Wretched
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies
I therefore go and join head heart and hand 
Active and firm to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science Freedom and the Truth in Christ
Yet oft when after honourable toil
Bests the tir'd mind and waking loves to dream
My spirit shall revisit thee dear Cot 
Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose
And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air
And I shall sigh fond wishes sweet Abode
Ah had none greater And that all had such
It might be so but the time is not yet 
Speed it O Father Let thy Kingdom come
This is the time when most divine to hear
The voice of Adoration rouses me
As with a Cherub trump and high upborne
Yea mingling with the Choir I seem to view
The vision of the heavenly multitude 
Who hymned the song of Peace o'er Bethlehem fields
Yet thou more bright than all the Angel-blaze
That harbingered thy birth Thou Man of Woes
Despised Galilaean For the Great
Invisible by symbols only seen 
With a peculiar and surpassing light
Shines from the visage of the oppressed good man
When heedless of himself the scourged saint
Mourns for the oppressor Fair the vernal mead
Fair the high grove the sea the sun the stars 
True impress each of their creating Sire
Yet nor high grove nor many-colour'd mead
Nor the green ocean with his thousand isles
Nor the starred azure nor the sovran sun
E'er with such majesty of portraiture 
Imaged the supreme beauty uncreate
As thou meek Saviour at the fearful hour
When thy insulted anguish winged the prayer
Harped by Archangels when they sing of mercy
Which when the Almighty heard from forth his throne 
Diviner light filled Heaven with ecstasy
Heaven hymnings paused and Hell her yawning mouth
Closed a brief moment Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love Holy with power
He on the thought-benighted Sceptic beamed 
Manifest Godhead melting into day
What floating mists of dark idolatry
Broke and misshaped the omnipresent Sire
And first by Fear uncharmed the drowsed Soul
Till of its nobler nature it 'gan feel 
Dim recollections and thence soared to Hope
Strong to believe whate'er of mystic good
The Eternal dooms for His immortal sons
From Hope and firmer Faith to perfect Love
Attracted and absorbed and centered there 
God only to behold and know and feel
Till by exclusive consciousness of God
All self-annihilated it shall make
God its Identity God all in all
We and our Father one And blest are they 
Who in this fleshly World the elect of Heaven
Their strong eye darting through the deeds of men
Adore with steadfast unpresuming gaze
Him Nature essence mind and energy
And gazing trembling patiently ascend 
Treading beneath their feet all visible things
As steps that upward to their Father throne
Lead gradual else nor glorified nor loved
They nor contempt embosom nor revenge
For they dare know of what may seem deform 
The Supreme Fair sole operant in whose sight
All things are pure his strong controlling love
Alike from all educing perfect good
Their too celestial courage inly armed 
Dwarfing Earth giant brood what time they muse 
On their great Father great beyond compare
And marching onwards view high o'er their heads
His waving banners of Omnipotence
Who the Creator love created Might
Dread not within their tents no Terrors walk 
For they are holy things before the Lord
Aye unprofaned though Earth should league with Hell
God altar grasping with an eager hand
Fear the wild-visag'd pale eye-starting wretch
Sure-refug'd hears his hot pursuing fiends 
Yell at vain distance Soon refresh'd from Heaven
He calms the throb and tempest of his heart
His countenance settles a soft solemn bliss
Swims in his eye his swimming eye uprais'd
And Faith whole armour glitters on his limbs 
And thus transfigured with a dreadless awe
A solemn hush of soul meek he beholds
All things of terrible seeming yea unmoved
Views e'en the immitigable ministers
That shower down vengeance on these latter days 
For kindling with intenser Deity
From the celestial Mercy-seat they come
And at the renovating wells of Love
Have fill'd their vials with salutary wrath
To sickly Nature more medicinal 
Than what soft balm the weeping good man pours
Into the lone despoiled traveller wounds
Thus from the Elect regenerate through faith
Pass the dark Passions and what thirsty cares
Drink up the spirit and the dim regards 
Self-centre Lo they vanish or acquire
New names new features by supernal grace
Enrobed with Light and naturalised in Heaven
As when a shepherd on a vernal morn
Through some thick fog creeps timorous with slow foot 
Darkling he fixes on the immediate road
His downward eye all else of fairest kind
Hid or deformed But lo the bursting Sun
Touched by the enchantment of that sudden beam
Straight the black vapour melteth and in globes 
Of dewy glitter gems each plant and tree
On every leaf on every blade it hangs
Dance glad the new-born intermingling rays
And wide around the landscape streams with glory
There is one Mind one omnipresent Mind 
Omnific His most holy name is Love
Truth of subliming import with the which
Who feeds and saturates his constant soul
He from his small particular orbit flies
With blest outstarting From himself he flies 
Stands in the sun and with no partial gaze
Views all creation and he loves it all
And blesses it and calls it very good
This is indeed to dwell with the Most High
Cherubs and rapture-trembling Seraphim 
Can press no nearer to the Almighty throne
But that we roam unconscious or with hearts
Unfeeling of our universal Sire
And that in His vast family no Cain
Injures uninjured in her best-aimed blow 
Victorious Murder a blind Suicide
Haply for this some younger Angel now
Looks down on Human Nature and behold
A sea of blood bestrewed with wrecks where mad
Embattling Interests on each other rush 
With unhelmed rage 'Tis the sublime of man
Our noontide Majesty to know ourselves
Parts and proportions of one wondrous whole
This fraternises man this constitutes
Our charities and bearings But 'tis God 
Diffused through all that doth make all one whole
This the worst superstition him except
Aught to desire Supreme Reality
The plenitude and permanence of bliss
O Fiends of Superstition not that oft 
The erring Priest hath stained with brother blood
Your grisly idols not for this may wrath
Thunder against you from the Holy One
But o'er some plain that steameth to the sun
Peopled with Death or where more hideous Trade 
Loud-laughing packs his bales of human anguish
I will raise up a mourning O ye Fiends
And curse your spells that film the eye of Faith
Hiding the present God whose presence lost
The moral world cohesion we become 
An Anarchy of Spirits Toy-bewitched
Made blind by lusts disherited of soul
No common centre Man no common sire
Knoweth A sordid solitary thing
Mid countless brethren with a lonely heart 
Through courts and cities the smooth savage roams
Feeling himself his own low self the whole
When he by sacred sympathy might make
The whole one Self Self that no alien knows
Self far diffused as Fancy wing can travel 
Self spreading still Oblivious of its own
Yet all of all possessing This is Faith
This the Messiah destined victory
But first offences needs must come Even now
Black Hell laughs horrible to hear the scoff 
Thee to defend meek Galilaean Thee
And thy mild laws of Love unutterable
Mistrust and Enmity have burst the bands
Of social peace and listening Treachery lurks
With pious fraud to snare a brother life 
And childless widows o'er the groaning land
Wail numberless and orphans weep for bread
Thee to defend dear Saviour of Mankind
Thee Lamb of God Thee blameless Prince of Peace
From all sides rush the thirsty brood of War  
Austria and that foul Woman of the North
The lustful murderess of her wedded lord
And he connatural Mind whom in their songs
So bards of elder time had haply feigned
Some Fury fondled in her hate to man 
Bidding her serpent hair in mazy surge
Lick his young face and at his mouth imbreathe
Horrible sympathy And leagued with these
Each petty German princeling nursed in gore
Soul-hardened barterers of human blood 
Death prime slave-merchants Scorpion-whips of Fate
Nor least in savagery of holy zeal
Apt for the yoke the race degenerate
Whom Britain erst had blushed to call her sons
Thee to defend the Moloch Priest prefers 
The prayer of hate and bellows to the herd
That Deity Accomplice Deity
In the fierce jealousy of wakened wrath
Will go forth with our armies and our fleets
To scatter the red ruin on their foes 
O blasphemy to mingle fiendish deeds
With blessedness Lord of unsleeping Love
From everlasting Thou We shall not die
These even these in mercy didst thou form
Teachers of Good through Evil by brief wrong 
Making Truth lovely and her future might
Magnetic o'er the fixed untrembling heart
In the primeval age a dateless while
The vacant Shepherd wander'd with his flock
Pitching his tent where'er the green grass waved 
But soon Imagination conjured up
An host of new desires with busy aim
Each for himself Earth eager children toiled
So Property began twy-streaming fount
Whence Vice and Virtue flow honey and gall 
Hence the soft couch and many-coloured robe
The timbrel and arched dome and costly feast
With all the inventive arts that nursed the soul
To forms of beauty and by sensual wants
Unsensualised the mind which in the means 
Learnt to forget the grossness of the end
Best pleasured with its own activity
And hence Disease that withers manhood arm
The daggered Envy spirit-quenching Want
Warriors and Lords and Priests all the sore ills 
That vex and desolate our mortal life
Wide-wasting ills yet each the immediate source
Of mightier good Their keen necessities
To ceaseless action goading human thought
Have made Earth reasoning animal her Lord 
And the pale-featured Sage trembling hand
Strong as an host of armed Deities
Such as the blind Ionian fabled erst
From Avarice thus from Luxury and War
Sprang heavenly Science and from Science Freedom 
O'er waken'd realms Philosophers and Bards
Spread in concentric circles they whose souls
Conscious of their high dignities from God
Brook not Wealth rivalry and they who long
Enamoured with the charms of order hate 
The unseemly disproportion and whoe'er
Turn with mild sorrow from the Victor car
And the low puppetry of thrones to muse
On that blest triumph when the Patriot Sage
Called the red lightnings from the o'er-rushing cloud 
And dashed the beauteous terrors on the earth
Smiling majestic Such a phalanx ne'er
Measured firm paces to the calming sound
Of Spartan flute These on the fated day
When stung to rage by Pity eloquent men 
Have roused with pealing voice the unnumbered tribes
That toil and groan and bleed hungry and blind 
These hush'd awhile with patient eye serene
Shall watch the mad careering of the storm
Then o'er the wild and wavy chaos rush 
And tame the outrageous mass with plastic might
Moulding Confusion to such perfect forms
As erst were wont bright visions of the day 
To float before them when the summer noon
Beneath some arched romantic rock reclined 
They felt the sea-breeze lift their youthful locks
Or in the month of blossoms at mild eve
Wandering with desultory feet inhaled
The wafted perfumes and the flocks and woods
And many-tinted streams and setting sun 
With all his gorgeous company of clouds
Ecstatic gazed then homeward as they strayed
Cast the sad eye to earth and inly mused
Why there was misery in a world so fair
Ah far removed from all that glads the sense 
From all that softens or ennobles Man
The wretched Many Bent beneath their loads
They gape at pageant Power nor recognise
Their cots' transmuted plunder From the tree
Of Knowledge ere the vernal sap had risen 
Rudely disbranched Blessed Society
Fitliest depictured by some sun-scorched waste
Where oft majestic through the tainted noon
The Simoom sails before whose purple pomp
Who falls not prostrate dies And where by night 
Fast by each precious fountain on green herbs
The lion couches or hyaena dips
Deep in the lucid stream his bloody jaws
Or serpent plants his vast moon-glittering bulk
Caught in whose monstrous twine Behemoth yells 
His bones loud-crashing O ye numberless
Whom foul Oppression ruffian gluttony
Drives from Life plenteous feast O thou poor Wretch
Who nursed in darkness and made wild by want
Roamest for prey yea thy unnatural hand 
Dost lift to deeds of blood O pale-eyed form
The victim of seduction doomed to know
Polluted nights and days of blasphemy
Who in loathed orgies with lewd wassailers
Must gaily laugh while thy remembered Home 
Gnaws like a viper at thy secret heart
O aged Women ye who weekly catch
The morsel tossed by law-forced charity
And die so slowly that none call it murder
O loathly suppliants ye that unreceived 
Totter heart-broken from the closing gates
Of the full Lazar-house or gazing stand
Sick with despair O ye to Glory field
Forced or ensnared who as ye gasp in death
Bleed with new wounds beneath the vulture beak 
O thou poor widow who in dreams dost view
Thy husband mangled corse and from short doze
Start'st with a shriek or in thy half-thatched cot
Waked by the wintry night-storm wet and cold
Cow'rst o'er thy screaming baby Rest awhile 
Children of Wretchedness More groans must rise
More blood must stream or ere your wrongs be full
Yet is the day of Retribution nigh
The Lamb of God hath opened the fifth seal
And upward rush on swiftest wing of fire 
The innumerable multitude of wrongs
By man on man inflicted Rest awhile
Children of Wretchedness The hour is nigh
And lo the Great the Rich the Mighty Men
The Kings and the Chief Captains of the World 
With all that fixed on high like stars of Heaven
Shot baleful influence shall be cast to earth
Vile and down-trodden as the untimely fruit
Shook from the fig-tree by a sudden storm
Even now the storm begins each gentle name 
Faith and meek Piety with fearful joy
Tremble far-off for lo the Giant Frenzy
Uprooting empires with his whirlwind arm
Mocketh high Heaven burst hideous from the cell
Where the old Hag unconquerable huge 
Creation eyeless drudge black Ruin sits
Nursing the impatient earthquake O return
Pure Faith meek Piety The abhorred Form
Whose scarlet robe was stiff with earthly pomp
Who drank iniquity in cups of gold 
Whose names were many and all blasphemous
Hath met the horrible judgment Whence that cry
The mighty army of foul Spirits shrieked
Disherited of earth For she hath fallen
On whose black front was written Mystery 
She that reeled heavily whose wine was blood
She that worked whoredom with the Daemon Power
And from the dark embrace all evil things
Brought forth and nurtured mitred Atheism
And patient Folly who on bended knee 
Gives back the steel that stabbed him and pale Fear
Haunted by ghastlier shapings than surround
Moon-blasted Madness when he yells at midnight
Return pure Faith return meek Piety
The kingdoms of the world are your each heart 
Self-governed the vast family of Love
Raised from the common earth by common toil
Enjoy the equal produce Such delights
As float to earth permitted visitants
When in some hour of solemn jubilee 
The massy gates of Paradise are thrown
Wide open and forth come in fragments wild
Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies
And odours snatched from beds of Amaranth
And they that from the crystal river of life 
Spring up on freshened wing ambrosial gales
The favoured good man in his lonely walk
Perceives them and his silent spirit drinks
Strange bliss which he shall recognise in heaven
And such delights such strange beatitudes 
Seize on my young anticipating heart
When that blest future rushes on my view
For in his own and in his Father might
The Saviour comes While as the Thousand Years
Lead up their mystic dance the Desert shouts 
Old Ocean claps his hands The mighty Dead
Rise to new life whoe'er from earliest time
With conscious zeal had urged Love wondrous plan
Coadjutors of God To Milton trump
The high groves of the renovated Earth 
Unbosom their glad echoes inly hushed
Adoring Newton his serener eye
Raises to heaven and he of mortal kind
Wisest he first who marked the ideal tribes
Up the fine fibres through the sentient brain 
Lo Priestley there patriot and saint and sage
Him full of years from his loved native land
Statesmen blood-stained and priests idolatrous
By dark lies maddening the blind multitude
Drove with vain hate Calm pitying he retired 
And mused expectant on these promised years
O Years the blest pre-eminence of Saints
Ye sweep athwart my gaze so heavenly bright
The wings that veil the adoring Seraphs' eyes
What time they bend before the Jasper Throne 
Reflect no lovelier hues Yet ye depart
And all beyond is darkness Heights most strange
Whence Fancy falls fluttering her idle wing
For who of woman born may paint the hour
When seized in his mid course the Sun shall wane 
Making noon ghastly Who of woman born
May image in the workings of his thought
How the black-visaged red-eyed Fiend outstretched
Beneath the unsteady feet of Nature groans
In feverous slumbers destined then to wake 
When fiery whirlwinds thunder his dread name
And Angels shout Destruction How his arm
The last great Spirit lifting high in air
Shall swear by Him the ever-living One
Time is no more Believe thou O my soul 
Life is a vision shadowy of Truth
And vice and anguish and the wormy grave
Shapes of a dream The veiling clouds retire
And lo the Throne of the redeeming God
Forth flashing unimaginable day 
Wraps in one blaze earth heaven and deepest hell
Contemplant Spirits ye that hover o'er
With untired gaze the immeasurable fount
Ebullient with creative Deity
And ye of plastic power that interfused 
Roll through the grosser and material mass
In organizing surge Holies of God
And what if Monads of the infinite mind
I haply journeying my immortal course
Shall sometime join your mystic choir Till then 
I discipline my young and novice thought
In ministeries of heart-stirring song
And aye on Meditation heaven-ward wing
Soaring aloft I breathe the empyreal air
Of Love omnific omnipresent Love 
Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul
As the great Sun when he his influence
Sheds on the frost-bound waters The glad stream
Flows to the ray and warbles as it flows
Auspicious Reverence Hush all meaner song
Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured
To the Great Father only Rightful King
Eternal Father King Omnipotent
To the Will Absolute the One the Good 
The I AM the Word the Life the Living God
Such symphony requires best instrument
Seize then my soul from Freedom trophied dome
The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields
Of Brutus and Leonidas With that 
Strong music that soliciting spell force back
Man free and stirring spirit that lies entranced
For what is Freedom but the unfettered use
Of all the powers which God for use had given
But chiefly this him First him Last to view 
Through meaner powers and secondary things
Effulgent as through clouds that veil his blaze
For all that meets the bodily sense I deem
Symbolical one mighty alphabet
For infant minds and we in this low world 
Placed with our backs to bright Reality
That we may learn with young unwounded ken
The substance from its shadow Infinite Love
Whose latence is the plenitude of All
Thou with retracted beams and self-eclipse 
Veiling revealest thine eternal Sun
But some there are who deem themselves most free
When they within this gross and visible sphere
Chain down the winged thought scoffing ascent
Proud in their meanness and themselves they cheat 
With noisy emptiness of learned phrase
Their subtle fluids impacts essences
Self-working tools uncaused effects and all
Those blind Omniscients those Almighty Slaves
Untenanting creation of its God 
But Properties are God the naked mass
If mass there be fantastic guess or ghost
Acts only by its inactivity
Here we pause humbly Others boldlier think
That as one body seems the aggregate 
Of atoms numberless each organized
So by a strange and dim similitude
Infinite myriads of self-conscious minds
Are one all-conscious Spirit which informs
With absolute ubiquity of thought 
His one eternal self-affirming act
All his involved Monads that yet seem
With various province and apt agency
Each to pursue its own self-centering end
Some nurse the infant diamond in the mine 
Some roll the genial juices through the oak
Some drive the mutinous clouds to clash in air
And rushing on the storm with whirlwind speed
Yoke the red lightnings to their volleying car
Thus these pursue their never-varying course 
No eddy in their stream Others more wild
With complex interests weaving human fates
Duteous or proud alike obedient all
Evolve the process of eternal good
And what if some rebellious o'er dark realms 
Arrogate power yet these train up to God
And on the rude eye unconfirmed for day
Flash meteor-lights better than total gloom
As ere from Lieule-Oaive vapoury head
The Laplander beholds the far-off Sun 
Dart his slant beam on unobeying snows
While yet the stern and solitary Night
Brooks no alternate sway the Boreal Morn
With mimic lustre substitutes its gleam
Guiding his course or by Niemi lake 
Or Balda Zhiok or the mossy stone
Of Solfar-kapper while the snowy blast
Drifts arrowy by or eddies round his sledge
Making the poor babe at its mother back
Scream in its scanty cradle he the while 
Wins gentle solace as with upward eye
He marks the streamy banners of the North
Thinking himself those happy spirits shall join
Who there in floating robes of rosy light
Dance sportively For Fancy is the power 
That first unsensualises the dark mind
Giving it new delights and bids it swell
With wild activity and peopling air
By obscure fears of Beings invisible
Emancipates it from the grosser thrall 
Of the present impulse teaching Self-control
Till Superstition with unconscious hand
Seat Reason on her throne Wherefore not vain
Nor yet without permitted power impressed
I deem those legends terrible with which 
The polar ancient thrills his uncouth throng
Whether of pitying Spirits that make their moan
O'er slaughter'd infants or that Giant Bird
Vuokho of whose rushing wings the noise
Is Tempest when the unutterable Shape 
Speeds from the mother of Death and utters once
That shriek which never murderer heard and lived
Or if the Greenland Wizard in strange trance
Pierces the untravelled realms of Ocean bed
Over the abysm even to that uttermost cave 
By mis-shaped prodigies beleaguered such
As Earth ne'er bred nor Air nor the upper Sea
Where dwells the Fury Form whose unheard name
With eager eye pale cheek suspended breath
And lips half-opening with the dread of sound 
Unsleeping Silence guards worn out with fear
Lest haply 'scaping on some treacherous blast
The fateful word let slip the Elements
And frenzy Nature Yet the wizard her
Arm'd with Torngarsuck power the Spirit of Good 
Forces to unchain the foodful progeny
Of the Ocean stream thence thro' the realm of Souls
Where live the Innocent as far from cares
As from the storms and overwhelming waves
That tumble on the surface of the Deep 
Returns with far-heard pant hotly pursued
By the fierce Warders of the Sea once more
Ere by the frost foreclosed to repossess
His fleshly mansion that had staid the while
In the dark tent within a cow'ring group 
Untenanted Wild phantasies yet wise
On the victorious goodness of high God
Teaching reliance and medicinal hope
Till from Bethabra northward heavenly Truth
With gradual steps winning her difficult way 
Transfer their rude Faith perfected and pure
If there be Beings of higher class than Man
I deem no nobler province they possess
Than by disposal of apt circumstance
To rear up kingdoms and the deeds they prompt 
Distinguishing from mortal agency
They choose their human ministers from such states
As still the Epic song half fears to name
Repelled from all the minstrelsies that strike
The palace-roof and soothe the monarch pride 
And such perhaps the Spirit who if words
Witnessed by answering deeds may claim our faith
Held commune with that warrior-maid of France
Who scourged the Invader From her infant days
With Wisdom mother of retired thoughts 
Her soul had dwelt and she was quick to mark
The good and evil thing in human lore
Undisciplined For lowly was her birth
And Heaven had doomed her early years to toil
That pure from Tyranny least deed herself 
Unfeared by Fellow-natures she might wait
On the poor labouring man with kindly looks
And minister refreshment to the tired
Way-wanderer when along the rough-hewn bench
The sweltry man had stretched him and aloft 
Vacantly watched the rudely-pictured board
Which on the Mulberry-bough with welcome creak
Swung to the pleasant breeze Here too the Maid
Learnt more than Schools could teach Man shifting mind
His vices and his sorrows And full oft 
At tales of cruel wrong and strange distress
Had wept and shivered To the tottering Eld
Still as a daughter would she run she placed
His cold limbs at the sunny door and loved
To hear him story in his garrulous sort 
Of his eventful years all come and gone
So twenty seasons past The Virgin form
Active and tall nor Sloth nor Luxury
Had shrunk or paled Her front sublime and broad
Her flexile eye-brows wildly haired and low 
And her full eye now bright now unillumed
Spake more than Woman thought and all her face
Was moulded to such features as declared
That Pity there had oft and strongly worked
And sometimes Indignation Bold her mien 
And like an haughty huntress of the woods
She moved yet sure she was a gentle maid
And in each motion her most innocent soul
Beamed forth so brightly that who saw would say
Guilt was a thing impossible in her 
Nor idly would have said for she had lived
In this bad World as in a place of Tombs
And touched not the pollutions of the Dead
'Twas the cold season when the Rustic eye
From the drear desolate whiteness of his fields 
Rolls for relief to watch the skiey tints
And clouds slow-varying their huge imagery
When now as she was wont the healthful Maid
Had left her pallet ere one beam of day
Slanted the fog-smoke She went forth alone 
Urged by the indwelling angel-guide that oft
With dim inexplicable sympathies
Disquieting the heart shapes out Man course
To the predoomed adventure Now the ascent
She climbs of that steep upland on whose top 
The Pilgrim-man who long since eve had watched
The alien shine of unconcerning stars
Shouts to himself there first the Abbey-lights
Seen in Neufchatel vale now slopes adown
The winding sheep-track vale-ward when behold 
In the first entrance of the level road
An unattended team The foremost horse
Lay with stretched limbs the others yet alive
But stiff and cold stood motionless their manes
Hoar with the frozen night-dews Dismally 
The dark-red dawn now glimmered but its gleams
Disclosed no face of man The maiden paused
Then hailed who might be near No voice replied
From the thwart wain at length there reached her ear
A sound so feeble that it almost seemed 
Distant and feebly with slow effort pushed
A miserable man crept forth his limbs
The silent frost had eat scathing like fire
Faint on the shafts he rested She meantime
Saw crowded close beneath the coverture 
A mother and her children lifeless all
Yet lovely not a lineament was marred 
Death had put on so slumber-like a form
It was a piteous sight and one a babe
The crisp milk frozen on its innocent lips 
Lay on the woman arm its little hand
Stretched on her bosom Mutely questioning
The Maid gazed wildly at the living wretch
He his head feebly turning on the group
Looked with a vacant stare and his eye spoke 
The drowsy calm that steals on worn-out anguish
She shuddered but each vainer pang subdued
Quick disentangling from the foremost horse
The rustic bands with difficulty and toil
The stiff cramped team forced homeward There arrived 
Anxiously tends him she with healing herbs
And weeps and prays but the numb power of Death
Spreads o'er his limbs and ere the noon-tide hour
The hovering spirits of his Wife and Babes
Hail him immortal Yet amid his pangs 
With interruptions long from ghastly throes
His voice had faltered out this simple tale
The Village where he dwelt an husbandman
By sudden inroad had been seized and fired
Late on the yester-evening With his wife 
And little ones he hurried his escape
They saw the neighbouring hamlets flame they heard
Uproar and shrieks and terror-struck drove on
Through unfrequented roads a weary way
But saw nor house nor cottage All had quenched 
Their evening hearth-fire for the alarm had spread
The air clipt keen the night was fanged with frost
And they provisionless The weeping wife
Ill hushed her children moans and still they moaned
Till Fright and Cold and Hunger drank their life 
They closed their eyes in sleep nor knew 'twas Death
He only lashing his o'er-wearied team
Gained a sad respite till beside the base
Of the high hill his foremost horse dropped dead
Then hopeless strengthless sick for lack of food 
He crept beneath the coverture entranced
Till wakened by the maiden Such his tale
Ah suffering to the height of what was suffered
Stung with too keen a sympathy the Maid
Brooded with moving lips mute startful dark 
And now her flushed tumultuous features shot
Such strange vivacity as fires the eye
Of Misery fancy-crazed and now once more
Naked and void and fixed and all within
The unquiet silence of confused thought 
And shapeless feelings For a mighty hand
Was strong upon her till in the heat of soul
To the high hill-top tracing back her steps
Aside the beacon up whose smouldered stones
The tender ivy-trails crept thinly there 
Unconscious of the driving element
Yea swallowed up in the ominous dream she sate
Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber a dim anguish
Breathed from her look and still with pant and sob
Inly she toiled to flee and still subdued 
Felt an inevitable Presence near
Thus as she toiled in troublous ecstasy
A horror of great darkness wrapt her round
And a voice uttered forth unearthly tones
Calming her soul 'O Thou of the Most High 
Chosen whom all the perfected in Heaven
A mount not wearisome and bare and steep
But a green mountain variously up-piled
Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep
Or colour'd lichens with slow oozing weep
Where cypress and the darker yew start wild 
And 'mid the summer torrent gentle dash
Dance brighten'd the red clusters of the ash
Beneath whose boughs by those still sounds beguil'd
Calm Pensiveness might muse herself to sleep
Till haply startled by some fleecy dam 
That rustling on the bushy cliff above
With melancholy bleat of anxious love
Made meek enquiry for her wandering lamb
Such a green mountain 'twere most sweet to climb
E'en while the bosom ach'd with loneliness  
How more than sweet if some dear friend should bless
The adventurous toil and up the path sublime
Now lead now follow the glad landscape round
Wide and more wide increasing without bound
O then 'twere loveliest sympathy to mark 
The berries of the half-uprooted ash
Dripping and bright and list the torrent dash 
Beneath the cypress or the yew more dark
Seated at ease on some smooth mossy rock
In social silence now and now to unlock 
The treasur'd heart arm linked in friendly arm
Save if the one his muse witching charm
Muttering brow-bent at unwatch'd distance lag
Till high o'er head his beckoning friend appears
And from the forehead of the topmost crag 
Shouts eagerly for haply there uprears
That shadowing Pine its old romantic limbs
Which latest shall detain the enamour'd sight
Seen from below when eve the valley dims
Tinged yellow with the rich departing light 
And haply bason'd in some unsunn'd cleft
A beauteous spring the rock collected tears
Sleeps shelter'd there scarce wrinkled by the gale
Together thus the world vain turmoil left
Stretch'd on the crag and shadow'd by the pine 
And bending o'er the clear delicious fount
Ah dearest youth it were a lot divine
To cheat our noons in moralising mood
While west-winds fann'd our temples toil-bedew'd
Then downwards slope oft pausing from the mount 
To some lone mansion in some woody dale
Where smiling with blue eye Domestic Bliss
Gives this the Husband that the Brother kiss
Thus rudely vers'd in allegoric lore
The Hill of Knowledge I essayed to trace 
That verdurous hill with many a resting-place
And many a stream whose warbling waters pour
To glad and fertilise the subject plains
That hill with secret springs and nooks untrod
And many a fancy-blest and holy sod 
Where Inspiration his diviner strains
Low-murmuring lay and starting from the rock's
Stiff evergreens whose spreading foliage mocks
Want barren soil and the bleak frosts of age
And Bigotry mad fire-invoking rage 
O meek retiring spirit we will climb
Cheering and cheered this lovely hill sublime
And from the stirring world up-lifted high
Whose noises faintly wafted on the wind
To quiet musings shall attune the mind 
And oft the melancholy theme supply
There while the prospect through the gazing eye
Pours all its healthful greenness on the soul
We'll smile at wealth and learn to smile at fame
Our hopes our knowledge and our joys the same 
As neighbouring fountains image each the whole
Then when the mind hath drunk its fill of truth
We'll discipline the heart to pure delight
Rekindling sober joy domestic flame
They whom I love shall love thee honour'd youth 
Now may Heaven realise this vision bright
A blessed lot hath he who having passed
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world retreats at length
With cares that move not agitate the heart
To the same dwelling where his father dwelt 
And haply views his tottering little ones
Embrace those aged knees and climb that lap
On which first kneeling his own infancy
Lisp'd its brief prayer Such O my earliest Friend
Thy lot and such thy brothers too enjoy 
At distance did ye climb Life upland road
Yet cheer'd and cheering now fraternal love
Hath drawn you to one centre Be your days
Holy and blest and blessing may ye live
To me the Eternal Wisdom hath dispens'd 
A different fortune and more different mind 
Me from the spot where first I sprang to light
Too soon transplanted ere my soul had fix'd
Its first domestic loves and hence through life
Chasing chance-started friendships A brief while 
Some have preserv'd me from life pelting ills
But like a tree with leaves of feeble stem
If the clouds lasted and a sudden breeze
Ruffled the boughs they on my head at once
Dropped the collected shower and some most false 
False and fair-foliag'd as the Manchineel
Have tempted me to slumber in their shade
E'en mid the storm then breathing subtlest damps
Mix'd their own venom with the rain from Heaven
That I woke poison'd But all praise to Him 
Who gives us all things more have yielded me
Permanent shelter and beside one Friend
Beneath the impervious covert of one oak
I've rais'd a lowly shed and know the names
Of Husband and of Father not unhearing 
Of that divine and nightly-whispering Voice
Which from my childhood to maturer years
Spake to me of predestinated wreaths
Bright with no fading colours Yet at times
My soul is sad that I have roam'd through life 
Still most a stranger most with naked heart
At mine own home and birth-place chiefly then
When I remember thee my earliest Friend
Thee who didst watch my boyhood and my youth
Didst trace my wanderings with a father eye 
And boding evil yet still hoping good
Rebuk'd each fault and over all my woes
Sorrow'd in silence He who counts alone
The beatings of the solitary heart
That Being knows how I have lov'd thee ever 
Lov'd as a brother as a son rever'd thee
Oh 'tis to me an ever new delight
To talk of thee and thine or when the blast
Of the shrill winter rattling our rude sash
Endears the cleanly hearth and social bowl 
Or when as now on some delicious eve
We in our sweet sequester'd orchard-plot
Sit on the tree crook'd earth-ward whose old boughs
That hang above us in an arborous roof
Stirr'd by the faint gale of departing May 
Send their loose blossoms slanting o'er our heads
Nor dost not thou sometimes recall those hours
When with the joy of hope thou gavest thine ear
To my wild firstling-lays Since then my song
Hath sounded deeper notes such as beseem 
Or that sad wisdom folly leaves behind
Or such as tuned to these tumultuous times
Cope with the tempest swell Those various strains
Which I have fram'd in many a various mood
Accept my Brother and for some perchance 
Will strike discordant on thy milder mind
If aught of error or intemperate truth
Should meet thine ear think thou that riper Age
Will calm it down and let thy love forgive it
Well they are gone and here must I remain
This lime-tree bower my prison I have lost
Beauties and feelings such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age
Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness They meanwhile 
Friends whom I never more may meet again
On springy heath along the hill-top edge
Wander in gladness and wind down perchance
To that still roaring dell of which I told
The roaring dell o'erwooded narrow deep 
And only speckled by the mid-day sun
Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
Flings arching like a bridge that branchless ash
Unsunn'd and damp whose few poor yellow leaves
Ne'er tremble in the gale yet tremble still 
Fann'd by the water-fall and there my friends
Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds
That all at once a most fantastic sight
Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge
Of the blue clay-stone Now my friends emerge 
Beneath the wide wide Heaven and view again
The many-steepled tract magnificent
Of hilly fields and meadows and the sea
With some fair bark perhaps whose sails light up
The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles 
Of purple shadow Yes they wander on
In gladness all but thou methinks most glad
My gentle-hearted Charles for thou hast pined
And hunger'd after Nature many a year
In the great City pent winning thy way 
With sad yet patient soul through evil and pain
And strange calamity Ah slowly sink
Behind the western ridge thou glorious Sun
Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb
Ye purple heath-flowers richlier burn ye clouds 
Live in the yellow light ye distant groves
And kindle thou blue Ocean So my friend
Struck with deep joy may stand as I have stood
Silent with swimming sense yea gazing round
On the wide landscape gaze till all doth seem 
Less gross than bodily and of such hues
As veil the Almighty Spirit when yet he makes
Spirits perceive his presence A delight
Comes sudden on my heart and I am glad
As I myself were there Nor in this bower 
This little lime-tree bower have I not mark'd
Much that has sooth'  me Pale beneath the blaze
Hung the transparent foliage and I watch'd
Some broad and sunny leaf and lov'd to see
The shadow of the leaf and stem above 
Dappling its sunshine And that walnut-tree
Was richly ting'd and a deep radiance lay
Full on the ancient ivy which usurps
Those fronting elms and now with blackest mass
Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue 
Through the late twilight and though now the bat
Wheels silent by and not a swallow twitters
Yet still the solitary humble-bee
Sings in the bean-flower Henceforth I shall know
That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure 
No plot so narrow be but Nature there
No waste so vacant but may well employ
Each faculty of sense and keep the heart
Awake to Love and Beauty and sometimes
'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good 
That we may lift the soul and contemplate
With lively joy the joys we cannot share
My gentle-hearted Charles when the last rook
Beat its straight path along the dusky air
Homewards I blest it deeming its black wing 
Now a dim speck now vanishing in light
Had cross'd the mighty Orb dilated glory
While thou stood'st gazing or when all was still
Flew creeking o'er thy head and had a charm
For thee my gentle-hearted Charles to whom 
No sound is dissonant which tells of Life
The Frost performs its secret ministry
Unhelped by any wind The owlet cry
Came loud and hark again loud as before
The inmates of my cottage all at rest
Have left me to that solitude which suits 
Abstruser musings save that at my side
My cradled infant slumbers peacefully
'Tis calm indeed so calm that it disturbs
And vexes meditation with its strange
And extreme silentness Sea hill and wood 
This populous village Sea and hill and wood
With all the numberless goings-on of life
Inaudible as dreams the thin blue flame
Lies on my low-burnt fire and quivers not
Only that film which fluttered on the grate 
Still flutters there the sole unquiet thing
Methinks its motion in this hush of nature
Gives it dim sympathies with me who live
Making it a companionable form
Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit 
By its own moods interprets every where
Echo or mirror seeking of itself
And makes a toy of Thought But O how oft
How oft at school with most believing mind
Presageful have I gazed upon the bars 
To watch that fluttering stranger and as oft
With unclosed lids already had I dreamt
Of my sweet birth-place and the old church-tower
Whose bells the poor man only music rang
From morn to evening all the hot Fair-day 
So sweetly that they stirred and haunted me
With a wild pleasure falling on mine ear
Most like articulate sounds of things to come
So gazed I till the soothing things I dreamt
Lulled me to sleep and sleep prolonged my dreams 
And so I brooded all the following morn
Awed by the stern preceptor face mine eye
Fixed with mock study on my swimming book
Save if the door half opened and I snatched
A hasty glance and still my heart leaped up 
For still I hoped to see the stranger face
Townsman or aunt or sister more beloved
My play-mate when we both were clothed alike
Dear Babe that sleepest cradled by my side
Whose gentle breathings heard in this deep calm 
Fill up the interspersed vacancies
And momentary pauses of the thought
My babe so beautiful it thrills my heart
With tender gladness thus to look at thee
And think that thou shalt learn far other lore 
And in far other scenes For I was reared
In the great city pent 'mid cloisters dim
And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars
But thou my babe shalt wander like a breeze
By lakes and sandy shores beneath the crags 
Of ancient mountain and beneath the clouds
Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores
And mountain crags so shalt thou see and hear
The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible
Of that eternal language which thy God 
Utters who from eternity doth teach
Himself in all and all things in himself
Great universal Teacher he shall mould
Thy spirit and by giving make it ask
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee 
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw whether the eave-drops fall 
Heard only in the trances of the blast
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon
Stranger whose eyes a look of pity shew
Say will you listen to a tale of woe
A tale in no unwonted horrors drest
But sweet is pity to an aged breast
This voice did falter with old age before 
Sad recollections make it falter more
Beside the torrent and beneath a wood
High in these Alps my summer cottage stood
One daughter still remain'd to cheer my way
The evening-star of life declining day 
Duly she hied to fill her milking-pail
Ere shout of herdsmen rang from cliff or vale
When she return'd before the summer shiel
On the fresh grass she spread the dairy meal
Just as the snowy peaks began to lose 
In glittering silver lights their rosy hues
Singing in woods or bounding o'er the lawn
No blither creature hail'd the early dawn
And if I spoke of hearts by pain oppress'd
When every friend is gone to them that rest 
Or of old men that leave when they expire
Daughters that should have perish'd with their sire 
Leave them to toil all day through paths unknown
And house at night behind some sheltering stone
Impatient of the thought with lively cheer 
She broke half-closed the tasteless tale severe
She play'd with fancies of a gayer hue
Enamour'd of the scenes her wishes drew
And oft she prattled with an eager tongue
Of promised joys that would not loiter long 
Till with her tearless eyes so bright and fair
She seem'd to see them realis'd in air
In fancy oft within some sunny dell
Where never wolf should howl or tempest yell
She built a little home of joy and rest 
And fill'd it with the friends whom she lov'd best
She named the inmates of her fancied cot
And gave to each his own peculiar lot
Which with our little herd abroad should roam
And which should tend the dairy toil at home 
And now the hour approach'd which should restore
Her lover from the wars to part no more
Her whole frame fluttered with uneasy joy
I long'd myself to clasp the valiant boy
And though I strove to calm her eager mood 
It was my own sole thought in solitude
I told it to the Saints amid my hymns 
For O you know not on an old man limbs
How thrillingly the pleasant sun-beams play
That shine upon his daughter wedding-day 
I hoped that those fierce tempests soon to rave
Unheard unfelt around my mountain grave
Not undelightfully would break her rest
While she lay pillow'd on her lover breast
Or join'd his pious prayer for pilgrims driven 
Out to the mercy of the winds of heaven
Yes now the hour approach'd that should restore
Her lover from the wars to part no more
Her thoughts were wild her soul was in her eye
She wept and laugh'd as if she knew not why 
And she had made a song about the wars
And sang it to the sun and to the stars
But while she look'd and listen'd stood and ran
And saw him plain in every distant man
By treachery stabbed on NANSY'S murderous day 
A senseless corse th' expected husband lay
A wounded man who met us in the wood
Heavily ask'd her where my cottage stood
And told us all she cast her eyes around
As if his words had been but empty sound 
Then look'd to Heav'n like one that would deny
That such a thing could be beneath the sky
Again he ask'd her if she knew my name
And instantly an anguish wrench'd her frame
And left her mind imperfect No delight 
Thenceforth she found in any cheerful sight
Not ev'n in those time-haunted wells and groves
Scenes of past joy and birth-place of her loves
If to her spirit any sound was dear
'Twas the deep moan that spoke the tempest near 
Or sighs which chasms of icy vales outbreathe
Sent from the dark imprison'd floods beneath
She wander'd up the crag and down the slope
But not as in her happy days of hope
To seek the churning-plant of sovereign power 
That grew in clefts and bore a scarlet flower
She roam'd without a purpose all alone
Thro' high grey vales unknowing and unknown
Kind-hearted stranger patiently you hear
A tedious tale I thank you for that tear 
May never other tears o'ercloud your eye
Than those which gentle Pity can supply
Did you not mark a towering convent hang
Where the huge rocks with sounds of torrents rang
Ev'n yet methinks its spiry turrets swim 
Amid yon purple gloom ascending dim
For thither oft would my poor child repair
To ease her soul by penitence and prayer
I knew that peace at good men prayers returns
Home to the contrite heart of him that mourns 
And check'd her not and often there she found
A timely pallet when the evening frown'd
And there I trusted that my child would light
On shelter and on food one dreadful night
When there was uproar in the element 
And she was absent To my rest I went
I thought her safe yet often did I wake
And felt my very heart within me ache
No daughter near me at this very door
Next morn I listen'd to the dying roar 
Above below the prowling vulture wail'd
And down the cliffs the heavy vapour sail'd
Up by the wide-spread waves in fury torn
Homestalls and pines along the vale were borne
The Dalesmen in thick crowds appear'd below 
Clearing the road o'erwhelm'd with hills of snow
At times to the proud gust ascending swell
A pack of blood-hounds flung their doleful yell
For after nights of storm that dismal train
The pious convent sends with hope humane 
To find some out-stretch'd man perchance to save
Or give at least that last good gift a grave
But now a gathering crowd did I survey
That slowly up the pasture bent their way
Nor could I doubt but that their care had found 
Some pilgrim in th' unchannel'd torrent drown'd
And down the lawn I hasten'd to implore
That they would bring the body to my door
But soon exclaim'd a boy who ran before
'Thrown by the last night waters from their bed 
Your daughter has been found and she is dead
The old man paused May he who sternly just
Lays at his will his creatures in the dust
Some ere the earliest buds of hope be blown
And some when every bloom of joy is flown 
May he the parent to his child restore
A green and silent spot amid the hills
A small and silent dell O'er stiller place
No singing sky-lark ever poised himself
The hills are heathy save that swelling slope
Which hath a gay and gorgeous covering on 
All golden with the never-bloomless furze
Which now blooms most profusely but the dell
Bathed by the mist is fresh and delicate
As vernal corn-field or the unripe flax
When through its half-transparent stalks at eve 
The level sunshine glimmers with green light
Oh 'tis a quiet spirit-healing nook
Which all methinks would love but chiefly he
The humble man who in his youthful years
Knew just so much of folly as had made 
His early manhood more securely wise
Here he might lie on fern or withered heath
While from the singing lark that sings unseen
The minstrelsy that solitude loves best
And from the sun and from the breezy air 
Sweet influences trembled o'er his frame
And he with many feelings many thoughts
Made up a meditative joy and found
Religious meanings in the forms of Nature
And so his senses gradually wrapt 
In a half sleep he dreams of better worlds
And dreaming hears thee still O singing lark
That singest like an angel in the clouds
My God it is a melancholy thing
For such a man who would full fain preserve 
His soul in calmness yet perforce must feel
For all his human brethren O my God
It weighs upon the heart that he must think
What uproar and what strife may now be stirring
This way or that way o'er these silent hills  
Invasion and the thunder and the shout
And all the crash of onset fear and rage
And undetermined conflict even now
Even now perchance and in his native isle
Carnage and groans beneath this blessed sun 
We have offended Oh my countrymen
We have offended very grievously
And been most tyrannous From east to west
A groan of accusation pierces Heaven
The wretched plead against us multitudes 
Countless and vehement the sons of God
Our brethren Like a cloud that travels on
Steamed up from Cairo swamps of pestilence
Even so my countrymen have we gone forth
And borne to distant tribes slavery and pangs 
And deadlier far our vices whose deep taint
With slow perdition murders the whole man
His body and his soul Meanwhile at home
All individual dignity and power
Engulfed in Courts Committees Institutions 
Associations and Societies
A vain speech-mouthing speech-reporting Guild
One Benefit-Club for mutual flattery
We have drunk up demure as at a grace
Pollutions from the brimming cup of wealth 
Contemptuous of all honourable rule
Yet bartering freedom and the poor man life
For gold as at a market The sweet words
Of Christian promise words that even yet
Might stem destruction were they wisely preached 
Are muttered o'er by men whose tones proclaim
How flat and wearisome they feel their trade
Rank scoffers some but most too indolent
To deem them falsehoods or to know their truth
Oh blasphemous the Book of Life is made 
A superstitious instrument on which
We gabble o'er the oaths we mean to break
For all must swear all and in every place
College and wharf council and justice-court
All all must swear the briber and the bribed 
Merchant and lawyer senator and priest
The rich the poor the old man and the young
All all make up one scheme of perjury
That faith doth reel the very name of God
Sounds like a juggler charm and bold with joy 
Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place
Portentous sight the owlet Atheism
Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon
Drops his blue-fringed lids and holds them close
And hooting at the glorious sun in Heaven 
Cries out 'Where is it' Thankless too for peace
Peace long preserved by fleets and perilous seas
Secure from actual warfare we have loved
To swell the war-whoop passionate for war
Alas for ages ignorant of all 
Its ghastlier workings famine or blue plague
Battle or siege or flight through wintry snows
We this whole people have been clamorous
For war and bloodshed animating sports
The which we pay for as a thing to talk of 
Spectators and not combatants No guess
Anticipative of a wrong unfelt
No speculation on contingency
However dim and vague too vague and dim
To yield a justifying cause and forth 
Stuffed out with big preamble holy names
And adjurations of the God in Heaven
We send our mandates for the certain death
Of thousands and ten thousands Boys and girls
And women that would groan to see a child 
Pull off an insect leg all read of war
The best amusement for our morning meal
The poor wretch who has learnt his only prayers
From curses who knows scarcely words enough
To ask a blessing from his Heavenly Father 
Becomes a fluent phraseman absolute
And technical in victories and defeats
And all our dainty terms for fratricide
Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er our tongues
Like mere abstractions empty sounds to which 
We join no feeling and attach no form
As if the soldier died without a wound
As if the fibres of this godlike frame
Were gored without a pang as if the wretch
Who fell in battle doing bloody deeds 
Passed off to Heaven translated and not killed
As though he had no wife to pine for him
No God to judge him Therefore evil days
Are coming on us O my countrymen
And what if all-avenging Providence 
Strong and retributive should make us know
The meaning of our words force us to feel
The desolation and the agony
Of our fierce doings Spare us yet awhile
Father and God O spare us yet awhile 
Oh let not English women drag their flight
Fainting beneath the burthen of their babes
Of the sweet infants that but yesterday
Laughed at the breast Sons brothers husbands all
Who ever gazed with fondness on the forms 
Which grew up with you round the same fire-side
And all who ever heard the sabbath-bells
Without the infidel scorn make yourselves pure
Stand forth be men repel an impious foe
Impious and false a light yet cruel race 
Who laugh away all virtue mingling mirth
With deeds of murder and still promising
Freedom themselves too sensual to be free
Poison life amities and cheat the heart
Of faith and quiet hope and all that soothes 
And all that lifts the spirit Stand we forth
Render them back upon the insulted ocean
And let them toss as idly on its waves
As the vile sea-weed which some mountain-blast
Swept from our shores And oh may we return 
Not with a drunken triumph but with fear
Repenting of the wrongs with which we stung
So fierce a foe to frenzy I have told
O Britons O my brethren I have told
Most bitter truth but without bitterness 
Nor deem my zeal or factious or mistimed
For never can true courage dwell with them
Who playing tricks with conscience dare not look
At their own vices We have been too long
Dupes of a deep delusion Some belike 
Groaning with restless enmity expect
All change from change of constituted power
As if a Government had been a robe
On which our vice and wretchedness were tagged
Like fancy-points and fringes with the robe 
Pulled off at pleasure Fondly these attach
A radical causation to a few
Poor drudges of chastising Providence
Who borrow all their hues and qualities
From our own folly and rank wickedness 
Which gave them birth and nursed them Others meanwhile
Dote with a mad idolatry and all
Who will not fall before their images
And yield them worship they are enemies
Even of their country Such have I been deemed  
But O dear Britain O my Mother Isle
Needs must thou prove a name most dear and holy
To me a son a brother and a friend
A husband and a father who revere
All bonds of natural love and find them all 
Within the limits of thy rocky shores
O native Britain O my Mother Isle
How shouldst thou prove aught else but dear and holy
To me who from thy lakes and mountain-hills
Thy clouds thy quiet dales thy rocks and seas 
Have drunk in all my intellectual life
All sweet sensations all ennobling thoughts
All adoration of the God in nature
All lovely and all honourable things
Whatever makes this mortal spirit feel 
The joy and greatness of its future being
There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul
Unborrowed from my country O divine
And beauteous island thou hast been my sole
And most magnificent temple in the which 
I walk with awe and sing my stately songs
Loving the God that made me May my fears
My filial fears be vain and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust that roared and died away 
In the distant tree which heard and only heard
In this low dell bowed not the delicate grass
But now the gentle dew-fall sends abroad
The fruit-like perfume of the golden furze
The light has left the summit of the hill 
Though still a sunny gleam lies beautiful
Aslant the ivied beacon Now farewell
Farewell awhile O soft and silent spot
On the green sheep-track up the heathy hill
Homeward I wind my way and lo recalled 
From bodings that have well-nigh wearied me
I find myself upon the brow and pause
Startled And after lonely sojourning
In such a quiet and surrounded nook
This burst of prospect here the shadowy main 
Dim-tinted there the mighty majesty
Of that huge amphitheatre of rich
And elmy fields seems like society 
Conversing with the mind and giving it
A livelier impulse and a dance of thought 
And now beloved Stowey I behold
Thy church-tower and methinks the four huge elms
Clustering which mark the mansion of my friend
And close behind them hidden from my view
Is my own lowly cottage where my babe 
And my babe mother dwell in peace With light
And quickened footsteps thitherward I tend
Remembering thee O green and silent dell
And grateful that by nature quietness
And solitary musings all my heart 
Is softened and made worthy to indulge
No cloud no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West no long thin slip
Of sullen light no obscure trembling hues
Come we will rest on this old mossy bridge
You see the glimmer of the stream beneath 
But hear no murmuring it flows silently
O'er its soft bed of verdure All is still
A balmy night and though the stars be dim
Yet let us think upon the vernal showers
That gladden the green earth and we shall find 
A pleasure in the dimness of the stars
And hark the Nightingale begins its song
'Most musical most melancholy' bird
A melancholy bird Oh idle thought
In Nature there is nothing melancholy 
But some night-wandering man whose heart was pierced
With the remembrance of a grievous wrong
Or slow distemper or neglected love
And so poor wretch filled all things with himself
And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale 
Of his own sorrow he and such as he
First named these notes a melancholy strain
And many a poet echoes the conceit
Poet who hath been building up the rhyme
When he had better far have stretched his limbs 
Beside a brook in mossy forest-dell
By sun or moon-light to the influxes
Of shapes and sounds and shifting elements
Surrendering his whole spirit of his song
And of his fame forgetful so his fame 
Should share in Nature immortality
A venerable thing and so his song
Should make all Nature lovelier and itself
Be loved like Nature But 'twill not be so
And youths and maidens most poetical 
Who lose the deepening twilights of the spring
In ball-rooms and hot theatres they still
Full of meek sympathy must heave their sighs
O'er Philomela pity-pleading strains
My Friend and thou our Sister we have learnt 
A different lore we may not thus profane
Nature sweet voices always full of love
And joyance 'Tis the merry Nightingale
That crowds and hurries and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes 
As he were fearful that an April night
Would be too short for him to utter forth
His love-chant and disburthen his full soul
Of all its music And I know a grove
Of large extent hard by a castle huge 
Which the great lord inhabits not and so
This grove is wild with tangling underwood
And the trim walks are broken up and grass
Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths
But never elsewhere in one place I knew 
So many nightingales and far and near
In wood and thicket over the wide grove
They answer and provoke each other song
With skirmish and capricious passagings
And murmurs musical and swift jug jug 
And one low piping sound more sweet than all 
Stirring the air with such a harmony
That should you close your eyes you might almost
Forget it was not day On moonlight bushes
Whose dewy leaflets are but half-disclosed 
You may perchance behold them on the twigs
Their bright bright eyes their eyes both bright and full
Glistening while many a glow-worm in the shade
Lights up her love-torch A most gentle Maid
Who dwelleth in her hospitable home 
Hard by the castle and at latest eve
Even like a Lady vowed and dedicate
To something more than Nature in the grove
Glides through the pathways she knows all their notes
That gentle Maid and oft a moment space 
What time the moon was lost behind a cloud
Hath heard a pause of silence till the moon
Emerging hath awakened earth and sky
With one sensation and those wakeful birds
Have all burst forth in choral minstrelsy 
As if some sudden gale had swept at once
A hundred airy harps And she hath watched
Many a nightingale perch giddily
On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze
And to that motion tune his wanton song 
Like tipsy Joy that reels with tossing head
Farewell O Warbler till to-morrow eve
And you my friends farewell a short farewell
We have been loitering long and pleasantly
And now for our dear homes That strain again 
Full fain it would delay me My dear babe
Who capable of no articulate sound
Mars all things with his imitative lisp
How he would place his hand beside his ear
His little hand the small forefinger up 
And bid us listen And I deem it wise
To make him Nature play-mate He knows well
The evening-star and once when he awoke
In most distressful mood some inward pain
Had made up that strange thing an infant dream  
I hurried with him to our orchard-plot
And he beheld the moon and hushed at once
Suspends his sobs and laughs most silently
While his fair eyes that swam with undropped tears
Did glitter in the yellow moon-beam Well  
It is a father tale But if that Heaven
Should give me life his childhood shall grow up
Familiar with these songs that with the night
He may associate joy Once more farewell
Sweet Nightingale once more my friends farewell
Through weeds and thorns and matted underwood
I force my way now climb and now descend
O'er rocks or bare or mossy with wild foot
Crushing the purple whorts while oft unseen
Hurrying along the drifted forest-leaves 
The scared snake rustles Onward still I toil
I know not ask not whither A new joy
Lovely as light sudden as summer gust
And gladsome as the first-born of the spring
Beckons me on or follows from behind 
Playmate or guide The master-passion quelled
I feel that I am free With dun-red bark
The fir-trees and the unfrequent slender oak
Forth from this tangle wild of bush and brake
Soar up and form a melancholy vault 
High o'er me murmuring like a distant sea
Here Wisdom might resort and here Remorse
Here too the love-lorn man who sick in soul
And of this busy human heart aweary
Worships the spirit of unconscious life 
In tree or wild-flower Gentle lunatic
If so he might not wholly cease to be
He would far rather not be that he is
But would be something that he knows not of
In winds or waters or among the rocks 
But hence fond wretch breathe not contagion here
No myrtle-walks are these these are no groves
Where Love dare loiter If in sullen mood
He should stray hither the low stumps shall gore
His dainty feet the briar and the thorn 
Make his plumes haggard Like a wounded bird
Easily caught ensnare him O ye Nymphs
Ye Oreads chaste ye dusky Dryades
And you ye Earth-winds you that make at morn
The dew-drops quiver on the spiders' webs 
You O ye wingless Airs that creep between
The rigid stems of heath and bitten furze
Within whose scanty shade at summer-noon
The mother-sheep hath worn a hollow bed 
Ye that now cool her fleece with dropless damp 
Now pant and murmur with her feeding lamb
Chase chase him all ye Fays and elfin Gnomes
With prickles sharper than his darts bemock
His little Godship making him perforce
Creep through a thorn-bush on yon hedgehog back 
This is my hour of triumph I can now
With my own fancies play the merry fool
And laugh away worse folly being free
Here will I seat myself beside this old
Hollow and weedy oak which ivy-twine 
Clothes as with net-work here will I couch my limbs
Close by this river in this silent shade
As safe and sacred from the step of man
As an invisible world unheard unseen
And listening only to the pebbly brook 
That murmurs with a dead yet tinkling sound
Or to the bees that in the neighbouring trunk
Make honey-hoards The breeze that visits me
Was never Love accomplice never raised
The tendril ringlets from the maiden brow 
And the blue delicate veins above her cheek
Ne'er played the wanton never half disclosed
The maiden snowy bosom scattering thence
Eye-poisons for some love-distempered youth
Who ne'er henceforth may see an aspen-grove 
Shiver in sunshine but his feeble heart
Shall flow away like a dissolving thing
Sweet breeze thou only if I guess aright
Liftest the feathers of the robin breast
That swells its little breast so full of song 
Singing above me on the mountain-ash
And thou too desert stream no pool of thine
Though clear as lake in latest summer-eve
Did e'er reflect the stately virgin robe
The face the form divine the downcast look 
Contemplative Behold her open palm
Presses her cheek and brow her elbow rests
On the bare branch of half-uprooted tree
That leans towards its mirror Who erewhile
Had from her countenance turned or looked by stealth
For Fear is true-love cruel nurse he now 
With steadfast gaze and unoffending eye
Worships the watery idol dreaming hopes
Delicious to the soul but fleeting vain
E'en as that phantom-world on which he gazed 
But not unheeded gazed for see ah see
The sportive tyrant with her left hand plucks
The heads of tall flowers that behind her grow
Lychnis and willow-herb and fox-glove bells
And suddenly as one that toys with time 
Scatters them on the pool Then all the charm
Is broken all that phantom world so fair
Vanishes and a thousand circlets spread
And each mis-shape the other Stay awhile
Poor youth who scarcely dar'st lift up thine eyes 
The stream will soon renew its smoothness soon
The visions will return And lo he stays
And soon the fragments dim of lovely forms
Come trembling back unite and now once more
The pool becomes a mirror and behold 
Each wildflower on the marge inverted there
And there the half-uprooted tree but where
O where the virgin snowy arm that leaned
On its bare branch He turns and she is gone
Homeward she steals through many a woodland maze 
Which he shall seek in vain Ill-fated youth
Go day by day and waste thy manly prime
In mad love-yearning by the vacant brook
Till sickly thoughts bewitch thine eyes and thou
Behold'st her shadow still abiding there 
The Naiad of the mirror Not to thee
O wild and desert stream belongs this tale
Gloomy and dark art thou the crowded firs
Spire from thy shores and stretch across thy bed
Making thee doleful as a cavern-well 
Save when the shy king-fishers build their nest
On thy steep banks no loves hast thou wild stream
This be my chosen haunt emancipate
From Passion dreams a freeman and alone
I rise and trace its devious course O lead 
Lead me to deeper shades and lonelier glooms
Lo stealing through the canopy of firs
How fair the sunshine spots that mossy rock
Isle of the river whose disparted waves
Dart off asunder with an angry sound 
How soon to re-unite And see they meet
Each in the other lost and found and see
Placeless as spirits one soft water-sun
Throbbing within them heart at once and eye
With its soft neighbourhood of filmy clouds 
The stains and shadings of forgotten tears
Dimness o'erswum with lustre Such the hour
Of deep enjoyment following love brief feuds
And hark the noise of a near waterfall
I pass forth into light I find myself 
Beneath a weeping birch most beautiful
Of forest trees the Lady of the Woods
Hard by the brink of a tall weedy rock
That overbrows the cataract How bursts
The landscape on my sight Two crescent hills 
Fold in behind each other and so make
A circular vale and land-locked as might seem
With brook and bridge and grey stone cottages
Half hid by rocks and fruit-trees At my feet
The whortle-berries are bedewed with spray 
Dashed upwards by the furious waterfall
How solemnly the pendent ivy-mass
Swings in its winnow All the air is calm
The smoke from cottage-chimneys tinged with light
Rises in columns from this house alone 
Close by the water-fall the column slants
And feels its ceaseless breeze But what is this
That cottage with its slanting chimney-smoke
And close beside its porch a sleeping child
His dear head pillowed on a sleeping dog  
One arm between its fore-legs and the hand
Holds loosely its small handful of wild-flowers
Unfilletted and of unequal lengths
A curious picture with a master haste
Sketched on a strip of pinky-silver skin 
Peeled from the birchen bark Divinest maid
Yon bark her canvas and those purple berries
Her pencil See the juice is scarcely dried
On the fine skin She has been newly here
And lo yon patch of heath has been her couch  
The pressure still remains O blessed couch
For this may'st thou flower early and the sun
Slanting at eve rest bright and linger long
Upon thy purple bells O Isabel
Daughter of genius stateliest of our maids 
More beautiful than whom Alcaeus wooed
The Lesbian woman of immortal song
O child of genius stately beautiful
And full of love to all save only me
And not ungentle e'en to me My heart 
Why beats it thus Through yonder coppice-wood
Needs must the pathway turn that leads straightway
On to her father house She is alone
The night draws on such ways are hard to hit 
And fit it is I should restore this sketch 
Dropt unawares no doubt Why should I yearn
To keep the relique 'twill but idly feed
The passion that consumes me Let me haste
The picture in my hand which she has left
She cannot blame me that I followed her 
And I may be her guide the long wood through
Matilda I have heard a sweet tune played
On a sweet instrument thy Poesie 
Sent to my soul by Boughton pleading voice
Where friendship zealous wish inspirited
Deepened and filled the subtle tones of taste 
So have I heard a Nightingale fine notes
Blend with the murmur of a hidden stream
And now the fair wild offspring of thy genius
Those wanderers whom thy fancy had sent forth
To seek their fortune in this motley world 
Have found a little home within my heart
And brought me as the quit-rent of their lodging
Rose-buds and fruit-blossoms and pretty weeds
And timorous laurel leaflets half-disclosed
Engarlanded with gadding woodbine tendrils 
A coronal which with undoubting hand
I twine around the brows of patriot HOPE
The Almighty having first composed a Man
Set him to music framing Woman for him
And fitted each to each and made them one 
And 'tis my faith that there a natural bond
Between the female mind and measured sounds
Nor do I know a sweeter Hope than this
That this sweet Hope by judgment unreproved
That our own Britain our dear mother Isle 
May boast one Maid a poetess indeed
Great as th' impassioned Lesbian in sweet song
And O of holier mind and happier fate
Matilda I dare twine thy vernal wreath
Around the brows of patriot Hope But thou 
Be wise be bold fulfil my auspices
Tho' sweet thy measures stern must be thy thought
Patient thy study watchful thy mild eye
Poetic feelings like the stretching boughs
Of mighty oaks pay homage to the gales 
Toss in the strong winds drive before the gust
Themselves one giddy storm of fluttering leaves
Yet all the while self-limited remain
Equally near the fixed and solid trunk
Of Truth and Nature in the howling storm 
As in the calm that stills the aspen grove
Be bold meek Woman but be wisely bold
Fly ostrich-like firm land beneath thy feet
Yet hurried onward by thy wings of fancy
Swift as the whirlwind singing in their quills 
Look round thee look within thee think and feel
What nobler meed Matilda canst thou win
Than tears of gladness in a BOUGHTON'S eyes
And exultation even in strangers' hearts
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star
In his steep course So long he seems to pause
On thy bald awful head O sovran BLANC
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
Rave ceaselessly but thou most awful Form 
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines
How silently Around thee and above
Deep is the air and dark substantial black
An ebon mass methinks thou piercest it
As with a wedge But when I look again 
It is thine own calm home thy crystal shrine
Thy habitation from eternity
O dread and silent Mount I gazed upon thee
Till thou still present to the bodily sense
Didst vanish from my thought entranced in prayer 
I worshipped the Invisible alone
Yet like some sweet beguiling melody
So sweet we know not we are listening to it
Thou the meanwhile wast blending with my Thought
Yea with my Life and Life own secret joy 
Till the dilating Soul enrapt transfused
Into the mighty vision passing there
As in her natural form swelled vast to Heaven
Awake my soul not only passive praise
Thou owest not alone these swelling tears 
Mute thanks and secret ecstasy Awake
Voice of sweet song Awake my heart awake
Green vales and icy cliffs all join my Hymn
Thou first and chief sole sovereign of the Vale
O struggling with the darkness all the night 
And visited all night by troops of stars
Or when they climb the sky or when they sink
Companion of the morning-star at dawn
Thyself Earth rosy star and of the dawn
Co-herald wake O wake and utter praise 
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth
Who filled thy countenance with rosy light
Who made thee parent of perpetual streams
And you ye five wild torrents fiercely glad
Who called you forth from night and utter death 
From dark and icy caverns called you forth
Down those precipitous black jagged rocks
For ever shattered and the same for ever
Who gave you your invulnerable life
Your strength your speed your fury and your joy 
Unceasing thunder and eternal foam
And who commanded and the silence came
Here let the billows stiffen and have rest
Ye Ice-falls ye that from the mountain brow
Adown enormous ravines slope amain  
Torrents methinks that heard a mighty voice
And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge
Motionless torrents silent cataracts
Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven
Beneath the keen full moon Who bade the sun 
Clothe you with rainbows Who with living flowers
Of loveliest blue spread garlands at your feet 
GOD let the torrents like a shout of nations
Answer and let the ice-plains echo GOD
GOD sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice 
Ye pine-groves with your soft and soul-like sounds
And they too have a voice yon piles of snow
And in their perilous fall shall thunder GOD
Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost
Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle nest 
Ye eagles play-mates of the mountain-storm
Ye lightnings the dread arrows of the clouds
Ye signs and wonders of the element
Utter forth God and fill the hills with praise
Thou too hoar Mount with thy sky-pointing peaks
Oft from whose feet the avalanche unheard 
Shoots downward glittering through the pure serene
Into the depth of clouds that veil thy breast 
Thou too again stupendous Mountain thou
That as I raise my head awhile bowed low 
In adoration upward from thy base
Slow travelling with dim eyes suffused with tears
Solemnly seemest like a vapoury cloud
To rise before me Rise O ever rise
Rise like a cloud of incense from the Earth 
Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills
Thou dread ambassador from Earth to Heaven
Great Hierarch tell thou the silent sky
And tell the stars and tell yon rising sun
Earth with her thousand voices praises GOD
'Tis true Idoloclastes Satyrane
So call him for so mingling blame with praise
And smiles with anxious looks his earliest friends
Masking his birth-name wont to character
His wild-wood fancy and impetuous zeal 
'Tis true that passionate for ancient truths
And honouring with religious love the Great
Of elder times he hated to excess
With an unquiet and intolerant scorn
The hollow Puppets of a hollow Age 
Ever idolatrous and changing ever
Its worthless Idols Learning Power and Time
Too much of all thus wasting in vain war
Of fervid colloquy Sickness 'tis true
Whole years of weary days besieged him close 
Even to the gates and inlets of his life
But it is true no less that strenuous firm
And with a natural gladness he maintained
The citadel unconquered and in joy
Was strong to follow the delightful Muse 
For not a hidden path that to the shades
Of the beloved Parnassian forest leads
Lurked undiscovered by him not a rill
There issues from the fount of Hippocrene
But he had traced it upward to its source 
Through open glade dark glen and secret dell
Knew the gay wild flowers on its banks and culled
Its med'cinable herbs Yea oft alone
Piercing the long-neglected holy cave
The haunt obscure of old Philosophy 
He bade with lifted torch its starry walls
Sparkle as erst they sparkled to the flame
Of odorous lamps tended by Saint and Sage
O framed for calmer times and nobler hearts
O studious Poet eloquent for truth 
Philosopher contemning wealth and death
Yet docile childlike full of Life and Love
Here rather than on monumental stone
This record of thy worth thy Friend inscribes
Thoughtful with quiet tears upon his cheek
The sole true Something This In Limbo Den
It frightens Ghosts as here Ghosts frighten men
Thence cross'd unseiz'd and shall some fated hour
Be pulveris'd by Demogorgon power
And given as poison to annihilate souls  
Even now it shrinks them they shrink in as Moles
Nature mute monks live mandrakes of the ground
Creep back from Light then listen for its sound 
See but to dread and dread they know not why 
The natural alien of their negative eye 
'Tis a strange place this Limbo not a Place
Yet name it so where Time and weary Space
Fettered from flight with night-mare sense of fleeing
Strive for their last crepuscular half-being 
Lank Space and scytheless Time with branny hands 
Barren and soundless as the measuring sands
Not mark'd by flit of Shades unmeaning they
As moonlight on the dial of the day
But that is lovely looks like Human Time 
An Old Man with a steady look sublime 
That stops his earthly task to watch the skies
But he is blind a Statue hath such eyes 
Yet having moonward turn'd his face by chance
Gazes the orb with moon-like countenance
With scant white hairs with foretop bald and high 
He gazes still his eyeless face all eye 
As 'twere an organ full of silent sight
His whole face seemeth to rejoice in light
Lip touching lip all moveless bust and limb 
He seems to gaze at that which seems to gaze on him 
No such sweet sights doth Limbo den immure
Wall'd round and made a spirit-jail secure
By the mere horror of blank Naught-at-all
Whose circumambience doth these ghosts enthral
A lurid thought is growthless dull Privation 
Yet that is but a Purgatory curse
Hell knows a fear far worse
A fear a future state 'tis positive Negation
Or late in one of those most weary hours
When life seems emptied of all genial powers
A dreary mood which he who ne'er has known
May bless his happy lot I sate alone
And from the numbing spell to win relief 
Call'd on the Past for thought of glee or grief
In vain bereft alike of grief and glee
I sate and cow'r'd o'er my own vacancy
And as I watch'd the dull continuous ache
Which all else slumb'ring seem'd alone to wake 
O Friend long wont to notice yet conceal
And soothe by silence what words cannot heal
I but half saw that quiet hand of thine
Place on my desk this exquisite design
Boccaccio Garden and its faery 
The love the joyaunce and the gallantry
An Idyll with Boccaccio spirit warm
Framed in the silent poesy of form
Like flocks adown a newly-bathed steep
Emerging from a mist or like a stream 
Of music soft that not dispels the sleep
But casts in happier moulds the slumberer dream
Grazed by an idle eye with silent might
The picture stole upon my inward sight
A tremulous warmth crept gradual o'er my chest 
As though an infant finger touch'd my breast
And one by one I know not whence were brought
All spirits of power that most had stirr'd my thought
In selfless boyhood on a new world tost
Of wonder and in its own fancies lost 
Or charm'd my youth that kindled from above
Loved ere it loved and sought a form for love
Or lent a lustre to the earnest scan
Of manhood musing what and whence is man
Wild strain of Scalds that in the sea-worn caves 
Rehearsed their war-spell to the winds and waves
Or fateful hymn of those prophetic maids
That call'd on Hertha in deep forest glades
Or minstrel lay that cheer'd the baron feast
Or rhyme of city pomp of monk and priest 
Judge mayor and many a guild in long array
To high-church pacing on the great saint day
And many a verse which to myself I sang
That woke the tear yet stole away the pang
Of hopes which in lamenting I renew'd 
And last a matron now of sober mien
Yet radiant still and with no earthly sheen
Whom as a faery child my childhood woo'd
Even in my dawn of thought Philosophy
Though then unconscious of herself pardie 
She bore no other name than Poesy
And like a gift from heaven in lifeful glee
That had but newly left a mother knee
Prattled and play'd with bird and flower and stone
As if with elfin playfellows well known 
And life reveal'd to innocence alone
Thanks gentle artist now I can descry
Thy fair creation with a mastering eye
And all awake And now in fix'd gaze stand
Now wander through the Eden of thy hand 
Praise the green arches on the fountain clear
See fragment shadows of the crossing deer
And with that serviceable nymph I stoop
The crystal from its restless pool to scoop
I see no longer I myself am there 
Sit on the ground-sward and the banquet share
'Tis I that sweep that lute love-echoing strings
And gaze upon the maid who gazing sings
Or pause and listen to the tinkling bells
From the high tower and think that there she dwells
With old Boccaccio soul I stand possest 
And breathe an air like life that swells my chest
The brightness of the world O thou once free
And always fair rare land of courtesy
O Florence with the Tuscan fields and hills 
And famous Arno fed with all their rills
Thou brightest star of star-bright Italy
Rich ornate populous all treasures thine
The golden corn the olive and the vine
Fair cities gallant mansions castles old 
And forests where beside his leafy hold
The sullen boar hath heard the distant horn
And whets his tusks against the gnarled thorn
Palladian palace with its storied halls
Fountains where Love lies listening to their falls 
Gardens where flings the bridge its airy span
And Nature makes her happy home with man
Where many a gorgeous flower is duly fed
With its own rill on its own spangled bed
And wreathes the marble urn or leans its head 
A mimic mourner that with veil withdrawn
Weeps liquid gems the presents of the dawn 
Thine all delights and every muse is thine
And more than all the embrace and intertwine
Of all with all in gay and twinkling dance 
Mid gods of Greece and warriors of romance
See Boccace sits unfolding on his knees
The new-found roll of old Maeonides
But from his mantle fold and near the heart
Peers Ovid Holy Book of Love sweet smart 
O all-enjoying and all-blending sage
Long be it mine to con thy mazy page
Where half conceal'd the eye of fancy views
Fauns nymphs and winged saints all gracious to thy muse
Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks 
And see in Dian vest between the ranks
Of the trim vines some maid that half believes
The vestal fires of which her lover grieves
With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves
Five years have past five summers with the length
Of five long winters and again I hear
These waters rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft  Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky
The day is come when I again repose
Here under this dark sycamore and view
These plots of cottage-ground these orchard-tufts
Which at this season with their unripe fruits
Are clad in one green hue and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses Once again I see
These hedge-rows hardly hedge-rows little lines
Of sportive wood run wild these pastoral farms
Green to the very door and wreaths of smoke
Sent up in silence from among the trees
With some uncertain notice as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods
Or of some Hermit cave where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone
These beauteous forms
Through a long absence have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man eye
But oft in lonely rooms and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities I have owed to them
In hours of weariness sensations sweet
Felt in the blood and felt along the heart
And passing even into my purer mind
With tranquil restoration feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure such perhaps
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man life
His little nameless unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love Nor less I trust
To them I may have owed another gift
Of aspect more sublime that blessed mood
In which the burthen of the mystery
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world
Is lightened that serene and blessed mood
In which the affections gently lead us on 
Until the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended we are laid asleep
In body and become a living soul
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony and the deep power of joy
We see into the life of things
If this
Be but a vain belief yet oh how oft 
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight when the fretful stir
Unprofitable and the fever of the world
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart 
How oft in spirit have I turned to thee
O sylvan Wye thou wanderer thro' the woods
How often has my spirit turned to thee
And now with gleams of half-extinguished thought
With many recognitions dim and faint
And somewhat of a sad perplexity
The picture of the mind revives again
While here I stand not only with the sense
Of present pleasure but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years And so I dare to hope
Though changed no doubt from what I was when first
I came among these hills when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains by the sides
Of the deep rivers and the lonely streams
Wherever nature led more like a man
Flying from something that he dreads than one
Who sought the thing he loved For nature then
The coarser pleasures of my boyish days
And their glad animal movements all gone by
To me was all in all I cannot paint
What then I was The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion the tall rock
The mountain and the deep and gloomy wood
Their colours and their forms were then to me
An appetite a feeling and a love
That had no need of a remoter charm
By thought supplied nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye That time is past
And all its aching joys are now no more
And all its dizzy raptures Not for this
Faint I nor mourn nor murmur other gifts
Have followed for such loss I would believe
Abundant recompence For I have learned
To look on nature not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth but hearing oftentimes
The still sad music of humanity
Nor harsh nor grating though of ample power
To chasten and subdue And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns
And the round ocean and the living air
And the blue sky and in the mind of man
A motion and a spirit that impels
All thinking things all objects of all thought
And rolls through all things Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods
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 recognise
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 beingNor perchance
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 Oh 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 'tis 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
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
To 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 oh 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
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe
Thou Soul that art the Eternity of thought
And giv'st to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion not in vain
By day or star-light thus from my first dawn 
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul
Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man
But with high objects with enduring things
With life and nature purifying thus 
The elements of feeling and of thought
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart
Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me 
With stinted kindness In November days
When vapours rolling down the valleys made
A lonely scene more lonesome among woods
At noon and 'mid the calm of summer nights
When by the margin of the trembling lake 
Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went
In solitude such intercourse was mine
Mine was it in the fields both day and night
And by the waters all the summer long
And in the frosty season when the sun 
Was set and visible for many a mile
The cottage-windows through the twilight blazed
I heeded not the summons happy time
It was indeed for all of us for me
It was a time of rapture Clear and loud 
The village-clock tolled six I wheeled about
Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home  All shod with steel
We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate imitative of the chase 
And woodland pleasures the resounding horn
The pack loud-chiming and the hunted hare
So through the darkness and the cold we flew
And not a voice was idle with the din
Smitten the precipices rang aloud 
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron while far-distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear and in the west 
The orange sky of evening died away
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay or sportively
Glanced sideway leaving the tumultuous throng
To cut across the reflex of a star 
Image that flying still before me gleamed
Upon the glassy plain and oftentimes
When we had given our bodies to the wind
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness spinning still 
The rapid line of motion then at once
Have I reclining back upon my heels
Stopped short yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round 
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train
Feebler and feebler and I stood and watched
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll
You will suppose that with an upright path
Your feet must struggle in such bold ascent
The pastoral mountains front you face to face 
But courage for around that boisterous brook
The mountains have all opened out themselves
And made a hidden valley of their own
No habitation can be seen but they
Who journey thither find themselves alone 
With a few sheep with rocks and stones and kites
That overhead are sailing in the sky
It is in truth an utter solitude
Nor should I have made mention of this Dell
But for one object which you might pass by 
Might see and notice not Beside the brook
Appears a straggling heap of unhewn stones
And to that simple object appertains
A story unenriched with strange events
Yet not unfit I deem for the fireside 
Or for the summer shade It was the first
Of those domestic tales that spake to me
Of Shepherds dwellers in the valleys men
Whom I already loved not verily
For their own sakes but for the fields and hills 
Where was their occupation and abode
And hence this Tale while I was yet a Boy
Careless of books yet having felt the power
Of Nature by the gentle agency
Of natural objects led me on to feel 
For passions that were not my own and think
At random and imperfectly indeed
On man the heart of man and human life
Therefore although it be a history
Homely and rude I will relate the same 
For the delight of a few natural hearts
And with yet fonder feeling for the sake
Of youthful Poets who among these hills
Will be my second self when I am gone
Upon the forest-side in Grasmere Vale 
There dwelt a Shepherd Michael was his name
An old man stout of heart and strong of limb
His bodily frame had been from youth to age
Of an unusual strength his mind was keen
Intense and frugal apt for all affairs 
And in his shepherd calling he was prompt
And watchful more than ordinary men
Hence had he learned the meaning of all winds
Of blasts of every tone and oftentimes
When others heeded not He heard the South 
Make subterraneous music like the noise
Of bagpipers on distant Highland hills
The Shepherd at such warning of his flock
Bethought him and he to himself would say
The winds are now devising work for me 
And truly at all times the storm that drives
The traveller to a shelter summoned him
Up to the mountains he had been alone
Amid the heart of many thousand mists
That came to him and left him on the heights 
So lived he till his eightieth year was past
And grossly that man errs who should suppose
That the green valleys and the streams and rocks
Were things indifferent to the Shepherd thoughts
Fields where with cheerful spirits he had breathed 
The common air hills which with vigorous step
He had so often climbed which had impressed
So many incidents upon his mind
Of hardship skill or courage joy or fear
Which like a book preserved the memory 
Of the dumb animals whom he had saved
Had fed or sheltered linking to such acts
The certainty of honourable gain
Those fields those hills what could they less had laid
Strong hold on his affections were to him 
A pleasurable feeling of blind love
The pleasure which there is in life itself
His days had not been passed in singleness
His Helpmate was a comely matron old 
Though younger than himself full twenty years 
She was a woman of a stirring life
Whose heart was in her house two wheels she had
Of antique form this large for spinning wool
That small for flax and if one wheel had rest
It was because the other was at work 
The Pair had but one inmate in their house
An only Child who had been born to them
When Michael telling o'er his years began
To deem that he was old in shepherd phrase
With one foot in the grave This only Son 
With two brave sheep-dogs tried in many a storm
The one of an inestimable worth
Made all their household I may truly say
That they were as a proverb in the vale
For endless industry When day was gone 
And from their occupations out of doors
The Son and Father were come home even then
Their labour did not cease unless when all
Turned to the cleanly supper-board and there
Each with a mess of pottage and skimmed milk 
Sat round the basket piled with oaten cakes
And their plain home-made cheese Yet when the meal
Was ended Luke for so the Son was named
And his old Father both betook themselves
To such convenient work as might employ 
Their hands by the fire-side perhaps to card
Wool for the Housewife spindle or repair
Some injury done to sickle flail or scythe
Or other implement of house or field
Down from the ceiling by the chimney edge 
That in our ancient uncouth country style
With huge and black projection overbrowed
Large space beneath as duly as the light
Of day grew dim the Housewife hung a lamp
An aged utensil which had performed 
Service beyond all others of its kind
Early at evening did it burn and late
Surviving comrade of uncounted hours
Which going by from year to year had found
And left the couple neither gay perhaps 
Nor cheerful yet with objects and with hopes
Living a life of eager industry
And now when Luke had reached his eighteenth year
There by the light of this old lamp they sate
Father and Son while far into the night 
The Housewife plied her own peculiar work
Making the cottage through the silent hours
Murmur as with the sound of summer flies
light was famous in its neighbourhood
And was a public symbol of the life 
That thrifty Pair had lived For as it chanced
Their cottage on a plot of rising ground
Stood single with large prospect north and south
High into Easedale up to Dunmail-Raise
And westward to the village near the lake 
And from this constant light so regular
And so far seen the House itself by all
Who dwelt within the limits of the vale
Both old and young was named THE EVENING STAR
Thus living on through such a length of years 
The Shepherd if he loved himself must needs
Have loved his Helpmate but to Michael heart
This son of his old age was yet more dear 
Less from instinctive tenderness the same
Fond spirit that blindly works in the blood of all  
Than that a child more than all other gifts
That earth can offer to declining man
Brings hope with it and forward-looking thoughts
And stirrings of inquietude when they
By tendency of nature needs must fail 
Exceeding was the love he bare to him
His heart and his heart joy For oftentimes
Old Michael while he was a babe in arms
Had done him female service not alone
For pastime and delight as is the use 
Of fathers but with patient mind enforced
To acts of tenderness and he had rocked
His cradle as with a woman gentle hand
And in a later time ere yet the Boy
Had put on boy attire did Michael love 
Albeit of a stern unbending mind
To have the Young-one in his sight when he
Wrought in the field or on his shepherd stool
Sate with a fettered sheep before him stretched
Under the large old oak that near his door 
Stood single and from matchless depth of shade
Chosen for the Shearer covert from the sun
Thence in our rustic dialect was called
The CLIPPING TREE a name which yet it bears
There while they two were sitting in the shade 
With others round them earnest all and blithe
Would Michael exercise his heart with looks
Of fond correction and reproof bestowed
Upon the Child if he disturbed the sheep
By catching at their legs or with his shouts 
Scared them while they lay still beneath the shears
And when by Heaven good grace the boy grew up
A healthy Lad and carried in his cheek
Two steady roses that were five years old
Then Michael from a winter coppice cut 
With his own hand a sapling which he hooped
With iron making it throughout in all
Due requisites a perfect shepherd staff
And gave it to the Boy wherewith equipt
He as a watchman oftentimes was placed 
At gate or gap to stem or turn the flock
And to his office prematurely called
There stood the urchin as you will divine
Something between a hindrance and a help
And for this cause not always I believe 
Receiving from his Father hire of praise
Though nought was left undone which staff or voice
Or looks or threatening gestures could perform
But soon as Luke full ten years old could stand
Against the mountain blasts and to the heights 
Not fearing toil nor length of weary ways
He with his Father daily went and they
Were as companions why should I relate
That objects which the Shepherd loved before
Were dearer now that from the Boy there came 
Feelings and emanations things which were
Light to the sun and music to the wind
And that the old Man heart seemed born again
Thus in his Father sight the Boy grew up
And now when he had reached his eighteenth year 
He was his comfort and his daily hope
While in this sort the simple household lived
From day to day to Michael ear there came
Distressful tidings Long before the time
Of which I speak the Shepherd had been bound 
In surety for his brother son a man
Of an industrious life and ample means
But unforeseen misfortunes suddenly
Had prest upon him and old Michael now
Was summoned to discharge the forfeiture 
A grievous penalty but little less
Than half his substance This unlooked-for claim
At the first hearing for a moment took
More hope out of his life than he supposed
That any old man ever could have lost 
As soon as he had armed himself with strength
To look his trouble in the face it seemed
The Shepherd sole resource to sell at once
A portion of his patrimonial fields
Such was his first resolve he thought again 
And his heart failed him Isabel said he
Two evenings after he had heard the news
I have been toiling more than seventy years
And in the open sunshine of God love
Have we all lived yet if these fields of ours 
Should pass into a stranger hand I think
That I could not lie quiet in my grave
Our lot is a hard lot the sun himself
Has scarcely been more diligent than I
And I have lived to be a fool at last 
To my own family An evil man
That was and made an evil choice if he
Were false to us and if he were not false
There are ten thousand to whom loss like this
Had been no sorrow I forgive him but 
'Twere better to be dumb than to talk thus
When I began my purpose was to speak
Of remedies and of a cheerful hope
Our Luke shall leave us Isabel the land
Shall not go from us and it shall be free 
He shall possess it free as is the wind
That passes over it We have thou know'st
Another kinsman he will be our friend
In this distress He is a prosperous man
Thriving in trade and Luke to him shall go 
And with his kinsman help and his own thrift
He quickly will repair this loss and then
He may return to us If here he stay
What can be done Where every one is poor
What can be gained 
At this the old Man paused
And Isabel sat silent for her mind
Was busy looking back into past times
There Richard Bateman thought she to herself
He was a parish-boy at the church-door 
They made a gathering for him shillings pence
And halfpennies wherewith the neighbours bought
A basket which they filled with pedlar wares
And with this basket on his arm the lad
Went up to London found a master there 
Who out of many chose the trusty boy
To go and overlook his merchandise
Beyond the seas where he grew wondrous rich
And left estates and monies to the poor
And at his birth-place built a chapel floored 
With marble which he sent from foreign lands
These thoughts and many others of like sort
Passed quickly through the mind of Isabel
And her face brightened The old Man was glad
And thus resumed Well Isabel this scheme 
These two days has been meat and drink to me
Far more than we have lost is left us yet
 We have enough I wish indeed that I
Were younger but this hope is a good hope
Make ready Luke best garments of the best 
Buy for him more and let us send him forth
To-morrow or the next day or to-night
 If he could go the Boy should go to-night
Here Michael ceased and to the fields went forth
With a light heart The Housewife for five days 
Was restless morn and night and all day long
Wrought on with her best fingers to prepare
Things needful for the journey of her son
But Isabel was glad when Sunday came
To stop her in her work for when she lay 
By Michael side she through the last two nights
Heard him how he was troubled in his sleep
And when they rose at morning she could see
That all his hopes were gone That day at noon
She said to Luke while they two by themselves 
Were sitting at the door Thou must not go
We have no other Child but thee to lose
None to remember do not go away
For if thou leave thy Father he will die
The Youth made answer with a jocund voice 
And Isabel when she had told her fears
Recovered heart That evening her best fare
Did she bring forth and all together sat
Like happy people round a Christmas fire
With daylight Isabel resumed her work 
And all the ensuing week the house appeared
As cheerful as a grove in Spring at length
The expected letter from their kinsman came
With kind assurances that he would do
His utmost for the welfare of the Boy 
To which requests were added that forthwith
He might be sent to him Ten times or more
The letter was read over Isabel
Went forth to show it to the neighbours round
Nor was there at that time on English land 
A prouder heart than Luke When Isabel
Had to her house returned the old Man said
He shall depart to-morrow To this word
The Housewife answered talking much of things
Which if at such short notice he should go 
Would surely be forgotten But at length
She gave consent and Michael was at ease
Near the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll
In that deep valley Michael had designed
To build a Sheep-fold and before he heard 
The tidings of his melancholy loss
For this same purpose he had gathered up
A heap of stones which by the streamlet edge
Lay thrown together ready for the work
With Luke that evening thitherward he walked 
And soon as they had reached the place he stopped
And thus the old Man spake to him My Son
To-morrow thou wilt leave me with full heart
I look upon thee for thou art the same
That wert a promise to me ere thy birth 
And all thy life hast been my daily joy
I will relate to thee some little part
Of our two histories 'twill do thee good
When thou art from me even if I should touch
On things thou canst not know of After thou 
First cam'st into the world as oft befals
To new-born infants thou didst sleep away
Two days and blessings from thy Father tongue
Then fell upon thee Day by day passed on
And still I loved thee with increasing love 
Never to living ear came sweeter sounds
Than when I heard thee by our own fire-side
First uttering without words a natural tune
While thou a feeding babe didst in thy joy
Sing at thy Mother breast Month followed month 
And in the open fields my life was passed
And on the mountains else I think that thou
Hadst been brought up upon thy Father knees
But we were playmates Luke among these hills
As well thou knowest in us the old and young 
Have played together nor with me didst thou
Lack any pleasure which a boy can know
Luke had a manly heart but at these words
He sobbed aloud The old Man grasped his hand
And said Nay do not take it so I see 
That these are things of which I need not speak
 Even to the utmost I have been to thee
A kind and a good Father and herein
I but repay a gift which I myself
Received at others' hands for though now old 
Beyond the common life of man I still
Remember them who loved me in my youth
Both of them sleep together here they lived
As all their Forefathers had done and when
At length their time was come they were not loth 
To give their bodies to the family mould
I wished that thou should'st live the life they lived
But 'tis a long time to look back my Son
And see so little gain from threescore years
These fields were burthened when they came to me 
Till I was forty years of age not more
Than half of my inheritance was mine
I toiled and toiled God blessed me in my work
And till these three weeks past the land was free
 It looks as if it never could endure 
Another Master Heaven forgive me Luke
If I judge ill for thee but it seems good
That thou should'st go
At this the old Man paused
Then pointing to the stones near which they stood 
Thus after a short silence he resumed
This was a work for us and now my Son
It is a work for me But lay one stone 
Here lay it for me Luke with thine own hands
Nay Boy be of good hope we both may live 
To see a better day At eighty-four
I still am strong and hale  do thou thy part
I will do mine I will begin again
With many tasks that were resigned to thee
Up to the heights and in among the storms 
Will I without thee go again and do
All works which I was wont to do alone
Before I knew thy face Heaven bless thee Boy
Thy heart these two weeks has been beating fast
With many hopes it should be so yes yes 
I knew that thou could'st never have a wish
To leave me Luke thou hast been bound to me
Only by links of love when thou art gone
What will be left to us But I forget
My purposes Lay now the corner-stone 
As I requested and hereafter Luke
When thou art gone away should evil men
Be thy companions think of me my Son
And of this moment hither turn thy thoughts
And God will strengthen thee amid all fear 
And all temptation Luke I pray that thou
May'st bear in mind the life thy Fathers lived
Who being innocent did for that cause
Bestir them in good deeds Now fare thee well 
When thou return'st thou in this place wilt see 
A work which is not here a covenant
'Twill be between us but whatever fate
Befal thee I shall love thee to the last
And bear thy memory with me to the grave
The Shepherd ended here and Luke stooped down 
And as his Father had requested laid
The first stone of the Sheep-fold At the sight
The old Man grief broke from him to his heart
He pressed his Son he kissed him and wept
And to the house together they returned 
 Hushed was that House in peace or seeming peace
Ere the night fell with morrow dawn the Boy
Began his journey and when he had reached
The public way he put on a bold face
And all the neighbours as he passed their doors 
Came forth with wishes and with farewell prayers
That followed him till he was out of sight
A good report did from their Kinsman come
Of Luke and his well doing and the Boy
Wrote loving letters full of wondrous news 
Which as the Housewife phrased it were throughout
The prettiest letters that were ever seen
Both parents read them with rejoicing hearts
So many months passed on and once again
The Shepherd went about his daily work 
With confident and cheerful thoughts and now
Sometimes when he could find a leisure hour
He to that valley took his way and there
Wrought at the Sheep-fold Meantime Luke began
To slacken in his duty and at length 
He in the dissolute city gave himself
To evil courses ignominy and shame
Fell on him so that he was driven at last
To seek a hiding-place beyond the seas
There is a comfort in the strength of love 
'Twill make a thing endurable which else
Would overset the brain or break the heart
I have conversed with more than one who well
Remember the old Man and what he was
Years after he had heard this heavy news 
His bodily frame had been from youth to age
Of an unusual strength Among the rocks
He went and still looked up to sun and cloud
And listened to the wind and as before
Performed all kinds of labour for his sheep 
And for the land his small inheritance
And to that hollow dell from time to time
Did he repair to build the Fold of which
His flock had need 'Tis not forgotten yet
The pity which was then in every heart 
For the old Man and 'tis believed by all
That many and many a day he thither went
And never lifted up a single stone
There by the Sheep-fold sometimes was he seen
Sitting alone or with his faithful Dog 
Then old beside him lying at his feet
The length of full seven years from time to time
He at the building of this Sheep-fold wrought
And left the work unfinished when he died
Three years or little more did Isabel 
Survive her Husband at her death the estate
Was sold and went into a stranger hand
The Cottage which was named the EVENING STAR
Is gone the ploughshare has been through the ground
On which it stood great changes have been wrought 
In all the neighbourhood yet the oak is left
That grew beside their door and the remains
Of the unfinished Sheep-fold may be seen
Beside the boisterous brook of Green-head Ghyll
How mighty and how great a Lord is he
For he of low hearts can make high of high
He can make low and unto death bring nigh
And hard hearts he can make them kind and free 
Within a little time as hath been found
He can make sick folk whole and fresh and sound
Them who are whole in body and in mind
He can make sick bind can he and unbind
All that he will have bound or have unbound 
To tell his might my wit may not suffice
Foolish men he can make them out of wise 
For he may do all that he will devise
Loose livers he can make abate their vice
And proud hearts can make tremble in a trice 
In brief the whole of what he will he may
Against him dare not any wight say nay
To humble or afflict whome'er he will
To gladden or to grieve he hath like skill
But most his might he sheds on the eve of May 
For every true heart gentle heart and free
That with him is or thinketh so to be
Now against May shall have some stirring whether
To joy or be it to some mourning never
At other time methinks in like degree 
For now when they may hear the small birds' song
And see the budding leaves the branches throng
This unto their remembrance doth bring
All kinds of pleasure mix'd with sorrowing
And longing of sweet thoughts that ever long 
And of that longing heaviness doth come
Whence oft great sickness grows of heart and home
Sick are they all for lack of their desire
And thus in May their hearts are set on fire
So that they burn forth in great martyrdom 
In sooth I speak from feeling what though now
Old am I and to genial pleasure slow
Yet have I felt of sickness through the May
Both hot and cold and heart-aches every day 
How hard alas to bear I only know 
Such shaking doth the fever in me keep
Through all this May that I have little sleep
And also 'tis not likely unto me
That any living heart should sleepy be
In which Love dart its fiery point doth steep 
But tossing lately on a sleepless bed
I of a token thought which Lovers heed
How among them it was a common tale
That it was good to hear the Nightingale
Ere the vile Cuckoo note be uttered 
And then I thought anon as it was day
I gladly would go somewhere to essay
If I perchance a Nightingale might hear
For yet had I heard none of all that year
And it was then the third night of the May 
And soon as I a glimpse of day espied
No longer would I in my bed abide
But straightway to a wood that was hard by
Forth did I go alone and fearlessly
And held the pathway down by a brook-side 
Till to a lawn I came all white and green
I in so fair a one had never been
The ground was green with daisy powdered over
Tall were the flowers the grove a lofty cover
All green and white and nothing else was seen 
There sate I down among the fair fresh flowers
And saw the birds come tripping from their bowers
Where they had rested them all night and they
Who were so joyful at the light of day
Began to honour May with all their powers 
Well did they know that service all by rote
And there was many and many a lovely note
Some singing loud as if they had complained
Some with their notes another manner feigned
And some did sing all out with the full throat 
They pruned themselves and made themselves right gay
Dancing and leaping light upon the spray
And ever two and two together were
The same as they had chosen for the year
Upon Saint Valentine returning day 
Meanwhile the stream whose bank I sate upon
Was making such a noise as it ran on
Accordant to the sweet Birds' harmony
Methought that it was the best melody
Which ever to man ear a passage won 
And for delight but how I never wot
I in a slumber and a swoon was caught
Not all asleep and yet not waking wholly
And as I lay the Cuckoo bird unholy
Broke silence or I heard him in my thought 
And that was right upon a tree fast by
And who was then ill satisfied but I
Now God quoth I that died upon the rood
From thee and thy base throat keep all that good
Full little joy have I now of thy cry 
And as I with the Cuckoo thus 'gan chide
In the next bush that was me fast beside
I heard the lusty Nightingale so sing
That her clear voice made a loud rioting
Echoing through all the green wood wide 
Ah good sweet Nightingale for my heart cheer
Hence hast thou stayed a little while too long
For we have had the sorry Cuckoo here
And she hath been before thee with her song
Evil light on her she hath done me wrong 
But hear you now a wondrous thing I pray
As long as in that swooning-fit I lay
Methought I wist right well what these birds meant
And had good knowing both of their intent
And of their speech and all that they would say 
The Nightingale thus in my hearing spake 
Good Cuckoo seek some other bush or brake
And prithee let us that can sing dwell here
For every wight eschews thy song to hear
Such uncouth singing verily dost thou make 
What quoth she then what is't that ails thee now
It seems to me I sing as well as thou
For mine a song that is both true and plain 
Although I cannot quaver so in vain
As thou dost in thy throat I wot not how 
All men may understanding have of me
But Nightingale so may they not of thee
For thou hast many a foolish and quaint cry 
Thou say'st OSEE OSEE then how may I
Have knowledge I thee pray what this may be 
Ah fool quoth she wist thou not what it is
Oft as I say OSEE OSEE I wis
Then mean I that I should be wondrous fain
That shamefully they one and all were slain
Whoever against Love mean aught amiss 
And also would I that they all were dead
Who do not think in love their life to lead
For who is both the God of Love to obey
Is only fit to die I dare well say
And for that cause OSEE I cry take heed 
Ay quoth the Cuckoo that is a quaint law
That all must love or die but I withdraw
And take my leave of all such company
For mine intent it neither is to die
Nor ever while I live Love yoke to draw 
For lovers of all folk that be alive
The most disquiet have and least do thrive
Most feeling have of sorrow woe and care
And the least welfare cometh to their share
What need is there against the truth to strive 
What quoth she thou art all out of thy mind
That in thy churlishness a cause canst find
To speak of Love true Servants in this mood
For in this world no service is so good
To every wight that gentle is of kind 
For thereof comes all goodness and all worth
All gentiless and honour thence come forth
Thence worship comes content and true heart pleasure
And full-assured trust joy without measure
And jollity fresh cheerfulness and mirth 
And bounty lowliness and courtesy
And seemliness and faithful company
And dread of shame that will not do amiss
For he that faithfully Love servant is
Rather than be disgraced would chuse to die 
And that the very truth it is which I
Now say in such belief I'll live and die
And Cuckoo do thou so by my advice
Then quoth she let me never hope for bliss
If with that counsel I do e'er comply 
Good Nightingale thou speakest wondrous fair
Yet for all that the truth is found elsewhere
For Love in young folk is but rage I wis
And Love in old folk a great dotage is
Who most it useth him 'twill most impair 
For thereof come all contraries to gladness
Thence sickness comes and overwhelming sadness
Mistrust and jealousy despite debate
Dishonour shame envy importunate
Pride anger mischief poverty and madness 
Loving is aye an office of despair
And one thing is therein which is not fair
For whoso gets of love a little bliss
Unless it alway stay with him I wis
He may full soon go with an old man hair 
And therefore Nightingale do thou keep nigh
For trust me well in spite of thy quaint cry
If long time from thy mate thou be or far
Thou'lt be as others that forsaken are
Then shall thou raise a clamour as do I 
Fie quoth she on thy name Bird ill beseen
The God of Love afflict thee with all teen
For thou art worse than mad a thousand fold
For many a one hath virtues manifold
Who had been nought if Love had never been 
For evermore his servants Love amendeth
And he from every blemish them defendeth
And maketh them to burn as in a fire
In loyalty and worshipful desire
And when it likes him joy enough them sendeth 
Thou Nightingale the Cuckoo said be still
For Love no reason hath but his own will 
For to th' untrue he oft gives ease and joy
True lovers doth so bitterly annoy
He lets them perish through that grievous ill 
With such a master would I never be
For he in sooth is blind and may not see
And knows not when he hurts and when he heals
Within this court full seldom Truth avails
So diverse in his wilfulness is he 
Then of the Nightingale did I take note
How from her inmost heart a sigh she brought
And said Alas that ever I was born
Not one word have I now I am so forlorn 
And with that word she into tears burst out 
Alas alas my very heart will break
Quoth she to hear this churlish bird thus speak
Of Love and of his holy services
Now God of Love thou help me in some wise
That vengeance on this Cuckoo I may wreak 
And so methought I started up anon
And to the brook I ran and got a stone
Which at the Cuckoo hardily I cast
And he for dread did fly away full fast
And glad in sooth was I when he was gone 
And as he flew the Cuckoo ever and aye
Kept crying Farewell farewell Popinjay
As if in scornful mockery of me
And on I hunted him from tree to tree
Till he was far all out of sight away 
Then straightway came the Nightingale to me
And said Forsooth my friend do I thank thee
That thou wert near to rescue me and now
Unto the God of Love I make a vow
That all this May I will thy songstress be 
Well satisfied I thanked her and she said
By this mishap no longer be dismayed
Though thou the Cuckoo heard ere thou heard'st me
Yet if I live it shall amended be
When next May comes if I am not afraid 
And one thing will I counsel thee also
The Cuckoo trust not thou nor his Love saw
All that she said is an outrageous lie
Nay nothing shall me bring thereto quoth I
For Love and it hath done me mighty woe 
Yea hath it use quoth she this medicine
This May-time every day before thou dine
Go look on the fresh daisy then say I
Although for pain thou may'st be like to die
Thou wilt be eased and less wilt droop and pine 
And mind always that thou be good and true
And I will sing one song of many new
For love of thee as loud as I may cry
And then did she begin this song full high
Beshrew all them that are in love untrue 
And soon as she had sung it to the end
Now farewell quoth she for I hence must wend
And God of Love that can right well and may
Send unto thee as mickle joy this day
As ever he to Lover yet did send 
Thus takes the Nightingale her leave of me
I pray to God with her always to be
And joy of love to send her evermore
And shield us from the Cuckoo and her lore
For there is not so false a bird as she 
Forth then she flew the gentle Nightingale
To all the Birds that lodged within that dale
And gathered each and all into one place
And them besought to hear her doleful case
And thus it was that she began her tale 
The Cuckoo 'tis not well that I should hide
How she and I did each the other chide
And without ceasing since it was daylight
And now I pray you all to do me right
Of that false Bird whom Love can not abide 
Then spake one Bird and full assent all gave
This matter asketh counsel good as grave
For birds we are all here together brought
And in good sooth the Cuckoo here is not
And therefore we a Parliament will have 
And thereat shall the Eagle be our Lord
And other Peers whose names are on record
A summons to the Cuckoo shall be sent
And judgment there be given or that intent
Failing we finally shall make accord 
And all this shall be done without a nay
The morrow after Saint Valentine day
Under a maple that is well beseen
Before the chamber-window of the Queen
At Woodstock on the meadow green and gay 
She thanked them and then her leave she took
And flew into a hawthorn by that brook
And there she sate and sung upon that tree 
For term of life Love shall have hold of me 
So loudly that I with that song awoke 
Unlearned Book and rude as well I know
For beauty thou hast none nor eloquence
Who did on thee the hardiness bestow
To appear before my Lady but a sense
Thou surely hast of her benevolence 
Whereof her hourly bearing proof doth give
For of all good she is the best alive
Alas poor Book for thy unworthiness
To show to her some pleasant meanings writ
In winning words since through her gentiless 
Thee she accepts as for her service fit
Oh it repents me I have neither wit
Nor leisure unto thee more worth to give
For of all good she is the best alive
Beseech her meekly with all lowliness 
Though I be far from her I reverence
To think upon my truth and stedfastness
And to abridge my sorrow violence
Caused by the wish as knows your sapience
She of her liking proof to me would give 
For of all good she is the best alive
Pleasure Aurora Day of gladsomeness
Luna by night with heavenly influence
Illumined root of beauty and goodnesse
Write and allay by your beneficence 
My sighs breathed forth in silence comfort give
Since of all good you are the best alive
Next morning Troilus began to clear
His eyes from sleep at the first break of day
And unto Pandarus his own Brother dear
For love of God full piteously did say
We must the Palace see of Cresida 
For since we yet may have no other feast
Let us behold her Palace at the least
And therewithal to cover his intent
A cause he found into the Town to go
And they right forth to Cresid Palace went 
But Lord this simple Troilus was woe
Him thought his sorrowful heart would break in two
For when he saw her doors fast bolted all
Well nigh for sorrow down he 'gan to fall
Therewith when this true Lover 'gan behold 
How shut was every window of the place
Like frost he thought his heart was icy cold
For which with changed pale and deadly face
Without word uttered forth he 'gan to pace
And on his purpose bent so fast to ride 
That no wight his continuance espied
Then said he thus O Palace desolate
O house of houses once so richly dight
O Palace empty and disconsolate
Thou lamp of which extinguished is the light 
O Palace whilom day that now art night
Thou ought'st to fall and I to die since she
Is gone who held us both in sovereignty
O of all houses once the crowned boast
Palace illumined with the sun of bliss 
O ring of which the ruby now is lost
O cause of woe that cause has been of bliss
Yet since I may no better would I kiss
Thy cold doors but I dare not for this rout
Farewell thou shrine of which the Saint is out 
Therewith he cast on Pandarus an eye
With changed face and piteous to behold
And when he might his time aright espy
Aye as he rode to Pandarus he told
Both his new sorrow and his joys of old 
So piteously and with so dead a hue
That every wight might on his sorrow rue
Forth from the spot he rideth up and down
And everything to his rememberance
Came as he rode by places of the town 
Where he had felt such perfect pleasure once
Lo yonder saw I mine own Lady dance
And in that Temple she with her bright eyes
My Lady dear first bound me captive-wise
And yonder with joy-smitten heart have I 
Heard my own Cresid laugh and once at play
I yonder saw her eke full blissfully
And yonder once she unto me 'gan say 
Now my sweet Troilus love me well I pray
And there so graciously did me behold 
That hers unto the death my heart I hold
And at the corner of that self-same house
Heard I my most beloved Lady dear
So womanly with voice melodious
Singing so well so goodly and so clear 
That in my soul methinks I yet do hear
The blissful sound and in that very place
My Lady first me took unto her grace
O blissful God of Love then thus he cried
When I the process have in memory 
How thou hast wearied me on every side
Men thence a book might make a history
What need to seek a conquest over me
Since I am wholly at thy will what joy
Hast thou thy own liege subjects to destroy 
Dread Lord so fearful when provoked thine ire
Well hast thou wreaked on me by pain and grief
Now mercy Lord thou know'st well I desire
Thy grace above all pleasures first and chief
And live and die I will in thy belief 
For which I ask for guerdon but one boon
That Cresida again thou send me soon
Constrain her heart as quickly to return
As thou dost mine with longing her to see
Then know I well that she would not sojourn 
Now blissful Lord so cruel do not be
Unto the blood of Troy I pray of thee
As Juno was unto the Theban blood
From whence to Thebes came griefs in multitude
And after this he to the gate did go 
Whence Cresid rode as if in haste she was
And up and down there went and to and fro
And to himself full oft he said alas
From hence my hope and solace forth did pass
O would the blissful God now for his joy 
I might her see again coming to Troy
And up to yonder hill was I her guide
Alas and there I took of her my leave
Yonder I saw her to her Father ride
For very grief of which my heart shall cleave 
And hither home I came when it was eve
And here I dwell an outcast from all joy
And shall unless I see her soon in Troy
And of himself did he imagine oft
That he was blighted pale and waxen less 
Than he was wont and that in whispers soft
Men said what may it be can no one guess
Why Troilus hath all this heaviness
All which he of himself conceited wholly
Out of his weakness and his melancholy 
Another time he took into his head
That every wight who in the way passed by
Had of him ruth and fancied that they said
I am right sorry Troilus will die
And thus a day or two drove wearily 
As ye have heard such life 'gan he to lead
As one that standeth betwixt hope and dread
For which it pleased him in his songs to show
The occasion of his woe as best he might
And made a fitting song of words but few 
Somewhat his woeful heart to make more light
And when he was removed from all men sight
With a soft night voice he of his Lady dear
That absent was 'gan sing as ye may hear
O star of which I lost have all the light 
With a sore heart well ought I to bewail
That ever dark in torment night by night
Toward my death with wind I steer and sail
For which upon the tenth night if thou fail
With thy bright beams to guide me but one hour 
My ship and me Charybdis will devour
As soon as he this song had thus sung through
He fell again into his sorrows old
And every night as was his wont to do
Troilus stood the bright moon to behold 
And all his trouble to the moon he told
And said I wis when thou art horn'd anew
I shall be glad if all the world be true
Thy horns were old as now upon that morrow
When hence did journey my bright Lady dear 
That cause is of my torment and my sorrow
For which oh gentle Luna bright and clear
For love of God run fast above thy sphere
For when thy horns begin once more to spring
Then shall she come that with her bliss may bring 
The day is more and longer every night
Than they were wont to be for he thought so
And that the sun did take his course not right
By longer way than he was wont to go
And said I am in constant dread I trow 
That Phaeton his son is yet alive
His too fond father car amiss to drive
Upon the walls fast also would he walk
To the end that he the Grecian host might see
And ever thus he to himself would talk 
Lo yonder is my own bright Lady free
Or yonder is it that the tents must be
And thence does come this air which is so sweet
That in my soul I feel the joy of it
And certainly this wind that more and more 
By moments thus increaseth in my face
Is of my Lady sighs heavy and sore
I prove it thus for in no other space
Of all this town save only in this place
Feel I a wind that soundeth so like pain 
It saith Alas why severed are we twain
A weary while in pain he tosseth thus
Till fully past and gone was the ninth night
And ever at his side stood Pandarus
Who busily made use of all his might 
To comfort him and make his heart more light
Giving him always hope that she the morrow
Of the tenth day will come and end his sorrow
Meek Infant among all forlornest things
The most forlorn one life of that bright star
The second glory of the Heavens Thou hast 
Already hast survived that great decay
That transformation through the wide earth felt
And by all nations In that Being sight
From whom the Race of human kind proceed
A thousand years are but as yesterday 
And one day narrow circuit is to Him
Not less capacious than a thousand years
But what is time What outward glory neither
A measure is of Thee whose claims extend
Through heaven eternal year  Yet hail to Thee 
Frail feeble Monthling by that name methinks
Thy scanty breathing-time is portioned out
Not idly Hadst thou been of Indian birth
Couched on a casual bed of moss and leaves
And rudely canopied by leafy boughs 
Or to the churlish elements exposed
On the blank plains the coldness of the night
Or the night darkness or its cheerful face
Of beauty by the changing moon adorned
Would with imperious admonition then 
Have scored thine age and punctually timed
Thine infant history on the minds of those
Who might have wandered with thee Mother love
Nor less than mother love in other breasts
Will among us warm-clad and warmly housed 
Do for thee what the finger of the heavens
Doth all too often harshly execute
For thy unblest coevals amid wilds
Where fancy hath small liberty to grace
The affections to exalt them or refine 
And the maternal sympathy itself
Though strong is in the main a joyless tie
Of naked instinct wound about the heart
Happier far happier is thy lot and ours
Even now to solemnise thy helpless state 
And to enliven in the mind regard
Thy passive beauty parallels have risen
Resemblances or contrasts that connect
Within the region of a father thoughts
Thee and thy mate and sister of the sky 
And first thy sinless progress through a world
By sorrow darkened and by care disturbed
Apt likeness bears to hers through gathered clouds
Moving untouched in silver purity
And cheering oft-times their reluctant gloom 
Fair are ye both and both are free from stain
But thou how leisurely thou fill'st thy horn
With brightness leaving her to post along
And range about disquieted in change
And still impatient of the shape she wears 
Once up once down the hill one journey Babe
That will suffice thee and it seems that now
Thou hast fore-knowledge that such task is thine
Thou travellest so contentedly and sleep'st
In such a heedless peace Alas full soon 
Hath this conception grateful to behold
Changed countenance like an object sullied o'er
By breathing mist and thine appears to be
A mournful labour while to her is given
Hope and a renovation without end 
 That smile forbids the thought for on thy face
Smiles are beginning like the beams of dawn
To shoot and circulate smiles have there been seen
Tranquil assurances that Heaven supports
The feeble motions of thy life and cheers 
Thy loneliness or shall those smiles be called
Feelers of love put forth as if to explore
This untried world and to prepare thy way
Through a strait passage intricate and dim
Such are they and the same are tokens signs 
Which when the appointed season hath arrived
Joy as her holiest language shall adopt
And Reason godlike Power be proud to own
O happy time of youthful lovers thus
My story may begin O balmy time
In which a love-knot on a lady brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven
To such inheritance of blessed fancy 
Fancy that sports more desperately with minds
Than ever fortune hath been known to do
The high-born Vaudracour was brought by years
Whose progress had a little overstepped
His stripling prime A town of small repute 
Among the vine-clad mountains of Auvergne
Was the Youth birth-place There he wooed a Maid
Who heard the heart-felt music of his suit
With answering vows Plebeian was the stock
Plebeian though ingenuous the stock 
From which her graces and her honours sprung
And hence the father of the enamoured Youth
With haughty indignation spurned the thought
Of such alliance From their cradles up
With but a step between their several homes 
Twins had they been in pleasure after strife
And petty quarrels had grown fond again
Each other advocate each other stay
And in their happiest moments not content
If more divided than a sportive pair 
Of sea-fowl conscious both that they are hovering
Within the eddy of a common blast
Or hidden only by the concave depth
Of neighbouring billows from each other sight
Thus not without concurrence of an age 
Unknown to memory was an earnest given
By ready nature for a life of love
For endless constancy and placid truth
But whatsoe'er of such rare treasure lay
Reserved had fate permitted for support 
Of their maturer years his present mind
Was under fascination he beheld
A vision and adored the thing he saw
Arabian fiction never filled the world
With half the wonders that were wrought for him 
Earth breathed in one great presence of the spring
Life turned the meanest of her implements
Before his eyes to price above all gold
The house she dwelt in was a sainted shrine
Her chamber-window did surpass in glory 
The portals of the dawn all paradise
Could by the simple opening of a door
Let itself in upon him pathways walks
Swarmed with enchantment till his spirit sank
Surcharged within him overblest to move 
Beneath a sun that wakes a weary world
To its dull round of ordinary cares
A man too happy for mortality
So passed the time till whether through effect
Of some unguarded moment that dissolved 
Virtuous restraint ah speak it think it not
Deem rather that the fervent Youth who saw
So many bars between his present state
And the dear haven where he wished to be
In honourable wedlock with his Love 
Was in his judgment tempted to decline
To perilous weakness and entrust his cause
To nature for a happy end of all
Deem that by such fond hope the Youth was swayed
And bear with their transgression when I add 
That Julia wanting yet the name of wife
Carried about her for a secret grief
The promise of a mother To conceal
The threatened shame the parents of the Maid 
Found means to hurry her away by night
And unforewarned that in some distant spot
She might remain shrouded in privacy
Until the babe was born When morning came
The Lover thus bereft stung with his loss 
And all uncertain whither he should turn
Chafed like a wild beast in the toils but soon
Discovering traces of the fugitives
Their steps he followed to the Maid retreat
Easily may the sequel be divined  
Walks to and fro watchings at every hour
And the fair Captive who whene'er she may
Is busy at her casement as the swallow
Fluttering its pinions almost within reach
About the pendent nest did thus espy 
Her Lover thence a stolen interview
Accomplished under friendly shade of night
I pass the raptures of the pair such theme
Is by innumerable poets touched
In more delightful verse than skill of mine 
Could fashion chiefly by that darling bard
Who told of Juliet and her Romeo
And of the lark note heard before its time
And of the streaks that laced the severing clouds
In the unrelenting east Through all her courts 
The vacant city slept the busy winds
That keep no certain intervals of rest
Moved not meanwhile the galaxy displayed
Her fires that like mysterious pulses beat
Aloft momentous but uneasy bliss 
To their full hearts the universe seemed hung
On that brief meeting slender filament
They parted and the generous Vaudracour
Reached speedily the native threshold bent
On making so the Lovers had agreed 
A sacrifice of birthright to attain
A final portion from his father hand
Which granted Bride and Bridegroom then would flee
To some remote and solitary place
Shady as night and beautiful as heaven 
Where they may live with no one to behold
Their happiness or to disturb their love
But now of this no whisper not the less
If ever an obtrusive word were dropped
Touching the matter of his passion still 
In his stern father hearing Vaudracour
Persisted openly that death alone
Should abrogate his human privilege
Divine of swearing everlasting truth
Upon the altar to the Maid he loved 
You shall be baffled in your mad intent
If there be justice in the court of France
Muttered the Father From these words the Youth
Conceived a terror and by night or day
Stirred nowhere without weapons that full soon 
Found dreadful provocation for at night
When to his chamber he retired attempt
Was made to seize him by three armed men
Acting in furtherance of the father will
Under a private signet of the State 
One the rash Youth ungovernable hand
Slew and as quickly to a second gave
A perilous wound he shuddered to behold
The breathless corse then peacefully resigned
His person to the law was lodged in prison 
And wore the fetters of a criminal
Have you observed a tuft of winged seed
That from the dandelion naked stalk
Mounted aloft is suffered not to use
Its natural gifts for purposes of rest 
Driven by the autumnal whirlwind to and fro
Through the wide element or have you marked
The heavier substance of a leaf-clad bough
Within the vortex of a foaming flood
Tormented by such aid you may conceive 
The perturbation that ensued  ah no
Desperate the Maid the Youth is stained with blood
Unmatchable on earth is their disquiet
Yet as the troubled seed and tortured bough
Is Man subjected to despotic sway 
For him by private influence with the Court
Was pardon gained and liberty procured
But not without exaction of a pledge
Which liberty and love dispersed in air
He flew to her from whom they would divide him 
He clove to her who could not give him peace 
Yea his first word of greeting was All right
Is gone from me my lately-towering hopes
To the least fibre of their lowest root
Are withered thou no longer canst be mine 
I thine the conscience-stricken must not woo
The unruffled Innocent I see thy face
Behold thee and my misery is complete
One are we not exclaimed the Maiden One
For innocence and youth for weal and woe 
Then with the father name she coupled words
Of vehement indignation but the Youth
Checked her with filial meekness for no thought
Uncharitable crossed his mind no sense
Of hasty anger rising in the eclipse 
Of true domestic loyalty did e'er
Find place within his bosom Once again
The persevering wedge of tyranny
Achieved their separation and once more
Were they united to be yet again 
Disparted pitiable lot But here
A portion of the tale may well be left
In silence though my memory could add
Much how the Youth in scanty space of time
Was traversed from without much too of thoughts 
That occupied his days in solitude
Under privation and restraint and what
Through dark and shapeless fear of things to come
And what through strong compunction for the past
He suffered breaking down in heart and mind 
Doomed to a third and last captivity
His freedom he recovered on the eve
Of Julia travail When the babe was born
Its presence tempted him to cherish schemes
Of future happiness You shall return 
Julia said he and to your father house
Go with the child You have been wretched yet
The silver shower whose reckless burthen weighs
Too heavily upon the lily head
Oft leaves a saving moisture at its root 
Malice beholding you will melt away
Go 'tis a town where both of us were born
None will reproach you for our truth is known
And if amid those once-bright bowers our fate
Remain unpitied pity is not in man 
With ornaments the prettiest nature yields
Or art can fashion shall you deck our boy
And feed his countenance with your own sweet looks
Till no one can resist him Now even now
I see him sporting on the sunny lawn 
My father from the window sees him too
Startled as if some new-created thing
Enriched the earth or Faery of the woods
Bounded before him but the unweeting Child
Shall by his beauty win his grandsire heart 
So that it shall be softened and our loves
End happily as they began These gleams
Appeared but seldom oftener was he seen
Propping a pale and melancholy face 
Upon the Mother bosom resting thus
His head upon one breast while from the other
The Babe was drawing in its quiet food
 That pillow is no longer to be thine
Fond Youth that mournful solace now must pass 
Into the list of things that cannot be
Unwedded Julia terror-smitten hears
The sentence by her mother lip pronounced
That dooms her to a convent Who shall tell
Who dares report the tidings to the lord 
Of her affections so they blindly asked
Who knew not to what quiet depths a weight
Of agony had pressed the Sufferer down
The word by others dreaded he can hear
Composed and silent without visible sign 
Of even the least emotion Noting this
When the impatient object of his love
Upbraided him with slackness he returned
No answer only took the mother hand
And kissed it seemingly devoid of pain 
Or care that what so tenderly he pressed
Was a dependant on the obdurate heart
Of one who came to disunite their lives
For ever sad alternative preferred
By the unbending Parents of the Maid 
To secret 'spousals meanly disavowed
So be it In the city he remained
A season after Julia had withdrawn
To those religious walls He too departs 
Who with him even the senseless Little-one
With that sole charge he passed the city-gates
For the last time attendant by the side
Of a close chair a litter or sedan
In which the Babe was carried To a hill 
That rose a brief league distant from the town
The dwellers in that house where he had lodged
Accompanied his steps by anxious love
Impelled they parted from him there and stood
Watching below till he had disappeared 
On the hill top His eyes he scarcely took
Throughout that journey from the vehicle
Slow-moving ark of all his hopes that veiled
The tender infant and at every inn
And under every hospitable tree 
At which the bearers halted or reposed
Laid him with timid care upon his knees
And looked as mothers ne'er were known to look
Upon the nursling which his arms embraced
This was the manner in which Vaudracour 
Departed with his infant and thus reached
His father house where to the innocent child
Admittance was denied The young man spake
No word of indignation or reproof
But of his father begged a last request 
That a retreat might be assigned to him
Where in forgotten quiet he might dwell
With such allowance as his wants required
For wishes he had none To a lodge that stood
Deep in a forest with leave given at the age 
Of four-and-twenty summers he withdrew
And thither took with him his motherless Babe
And one domestic for their common needs
An aged woman It consoled him here
To attend upon the orphan and perform 
Obsequious service to the precious child
Which after a short time by some mistake
Or indiscretion of the Father died 
The Tale I follow to its last recess
Of suffering or of peace I know not which 
Theirs be the blame who caused the woe not mine
From this time forth he never shared a smile
With mortal creature An Inhabitant
Of that same town in which the pair had left
So lively a remembrance of their griefs 
By chance of business coming within reach
Of his retirement to the forest lodge
Repaired but only found the matron there
Who told him that his pains were thrown away
For that her Master never uttered word 
To living thing not even to her Behold
While they were speaking Vaudracour approached
But seeing some one near as on the latch
Of the garden-gate his hand was laid he shrunk 
And like a shadow glided out of view 
Shocked at his savage aspect from the place
The visitor retired Thus lived the Youth
Cut off from all intelligence with man
And shunning even the light of common day 
Nor could the voice of Freedom which through France
Full speedily resounded public hope
Or personal memory of his own deep wrongs
Rouse him but in those solitary shades
His days he wasted an imbecile mind
When to the attractions of the busy world
Preferring studious leisure I had chosen
A habitation in this peaceful Vale
Sharp season followed of continual storm
In deepest winter and from week to week 
Pathway and lane and public road were clogged
With frequent showers of snow Upon a hill
At a short distance from my cottage stands
A stately Fir-grove whither I was wont
To hasten for I found beneath the roof 
Of that perennial shade a cloistral place
Of refuge with an unincumbered floor
Here in safe covert on the shallow snow
And sometimes on a speck of visible earth
The redbreast near me hopped nor was I loth 
To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds
That for protection from the nipping blast
Hither repaired A single beech-tree grew
Within this grove of firs and on the fork
Of that one beech appeared a thrush nest 
A last year nest conspicuously built
At such small elevation from the ground
As gave sure sign that they who in that house
Of nature and of love had made their home
Amid the fir-trees all the summer long 
Dwelt in a tranquil spot And oftentimes
A few sheep stragglers from some mountain-flock
Would watch my motions with suspicious stare
From the remotest outskirts of the grove 
Some nook where they had made their final stand 
Huddling together from two fears the fear
Of me and of the storm Full many an hour
Here did I lose But in this grove the trees
Had been so thickly planted and had thriven
In such perplexed and intricate array 
That vainly did I seek beneath their stems
A length of open space where to and fro
My feet might move without concern or care
And baffled thus though earth from day to day
Was fettered and the air by storm disturbed 
I ceased the shelter to frequent  and prized
Less than I wished to prize that calm recess
The snows dissolved and genial Spring returned
To clothe the fields with verdure Other haunts
Meanwhile were mine till one bright April day 
By chance retiring from the glare of noon
To this forsaken covert there I found
A hoary pathway traced between the trees
And winding on with such an easy line
Along a natural opening that I stood 
Much wondering how I could have sought in vain
For what was now so obvious To abide
For an allotted interval of ease
Under my cottage-roof had gladly come
From the wild sea a cherished Visitant 
And with the sight of this same path begun
Begun and ended in the shady grove
Pleasant conviction flashed upon my mind
That to this opportune recess allured
He had surveyed it with a finer eye 
A heart more wakeful and had worn the track
By pacing here unwearied and alone
In that habitual restlessness of foot
That haunts the Sailor measuring o'er and o'er
His short domain upon the vessel deck 
While she pursues her course through the dreary sea
When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite pleasant shore
And taken thy first leave of those green hills
And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth
Year followed year my Brother and we two 
Conversing not knew little in what mould
Each other mind was fashioned and at length
When once again we met in Grasmere Vale
Between us there was little other bond
Than common feelings of fraternal love 
But thou a School-boy to the sea hadst carried
Undying recollections Nature there
Was with thee she who loved us both she still
Was with thee and even so didst thou become
A silent Poet from the solitude 
Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart
Still couchant an inevitable ear
And an eye practised like a blind man touch
 Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone
Nor from this vestige of thy musing hours 
Could I withhold thy honoured name and now
I love the fir-grove with a perfect love
Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns
Shine hot or wind blows troublesome and strong
And there I sit at evening when the steep 
Of Silver-how and Grasmere peaceful lake
And one green island gleam between the stems
Of the dark firs a visionary scene
And while I gaze upon the spectacle
Of clouded splendour on this dream-like sight 
Of solemn loveliness I think on thee
My Brother and on all which thou hast lost
Nor seldom if I rightly guess while Thou
Muttering the verses which I muttered first
Among the mountains through the midnight watch 
Art pacing thoughtfully the vessel deck
In some far region here while o'er my head
At every impulse of the moving breeze
The fir-grove murmurs with a sea-like sound
Alone I tread this path for aught I know 
Timing my steps to thine and with a store
Of undistinguishable sympathies
Mingling most earnest wishes for the day
When we and others whom we love shall meet
A second time in Grasmere happy Vale
O there is blessing in this gentle breeze
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings
From the green fields and from yon azure sky
Whate'er its mission the soft breeze can come 
To none more grateful than to me escaped
From the vast city where I long had pined
A discontented sojourner now free
Free as a bird to settle where I will
What dwelling shall receive me in what vale 
Shall be my harbour underneath what grove
Shall I take up my home and what clear stream
Shall with its murmur lull me into rest
The earth is all before me With a heart
Joyous nor scared at its own liberty 
I look about and should the chosen guide
Be nothing better than a wandering cloud
I cannot miss my way I breathe again
Trances of thought and mountings of the mind
Come fast upon me it is shaken off 
That burthen of my own unnatural self
The heavy weight of many a weary day
Not mine and such as were not made for me
Long months of peace if such bold word accord
With any promises of human life 
Long months of ease and undisturbed delight
Are mine in prospect whither shall I turn
By road or pathway or through trackless field
Up hill or down or shall some floating thing
Upon the river point me out my course 
Dear Liberty Yet what would it avail
But for a gift that consecrates the joy
For I methought while the sweet breath of heaven
Was blowing on my body felt within
A correspondent breeze that gently moved 
With quickening virtue but is now become
A tempest a redundant energy
Vexing its own creation Thanks to both
And their congenial powers that while they join
In breaking up a long-continued frost 
Bring with them vernal promises the hope
Of active days urged on by flying hours 
Days of sweet leisure taxed with patient thought
Abstruse nor wanting punctual service high
Matins and vespers of harmonious verse 
Thus far O Friend did I not used to make
A present joy the matter of a song
Pour forth that day my soul in measured strains
That would not be forgotten and are here
Recorded to the open fields I told 
A prophecy poetic numbers came
Spontaneously to clothe in priestly robe
A renovated spirit singled out
Such hope was mine for holy services
My own voice cheered me and far more the mind 
Internal echo of the imperfect sound
To both I listened drawing from them both
A cheerful confidence in things to come
Content and not unwilling now to give
A respite to this passion I paced on 
With brisk and eager steps and came at length
To a green shady place where down I sate
Beneath a tree slackening my thoughts by choice
And settling into gentler happiness
'Twas autumn and a clear and placid day 
With warmth as much as needed from a sun
Two hours declined towards the west a day
With silver clouds and sunshine on the grass
And in the sheltered and the sheltering grove
A perfect stillness Many were the thoughts 
Encouraged and dismissed till choice was made
Of a known Vale whither my feet should turn
Nor rest till they had reached the very door
Of the one cottage which methought I saw
No picture of mere memory ever looked 
So fair and while upon the fancied scene
I gazed with growing love a higher power
Than Fancy gave assurance of some work
Of glory there forthwith to be begun
Perhaps too there performed Thus long I mused 
Nor e'er lost sight of what I mused upon
Save when amid the stately groves of oaks
Now here now there an acorn from its cup
Dislodged through sere leaves rustled or at once
To the bare earth dropped with a startling sound 
From that soft couch I rose not till the sun
Had almost touched the horizon casting then
A backward glance upon the curling cloud
Of city smoke by distance ruralised
Keen as a Truant or a Fugitive 
But as a Pilgrim resolute I took
Even with the chance equipment of that hour
The road that pointed toward the chosen Vale
It was a splendid evening and my soul
Once more made trial of her strength nor lacked 
AEolian visitations but the harp
Was soon defrauded and the banded host
Of harmony dispersed in straggling sounds
And lastly utter silence Be it so
Why think of any thing but present good 
So like a home-bound labourer I pursued
My way beneath the mellowing sun that shed
Mild influence nor left in me one wish
Again to bend the Sabbath of that time
To a servile yoke What need of many words 
A pleasant loitering journey through three days
Continued brought me to my hermitage
I spare to tell of what ensued the life
In common things the endless store of things
Rare or at least so seeming every day 
Found all about me in one neighbourhood 
The self-congratulation and from morn
To night unbroken cheerfulness serene
But speedily an earnest longing rose
To brace myself to some determined aim 
Reading or thinking either to lay up
New stores or rescue from decay the old
By timely interference and therewith
Came hopes still higher that with outward life
I might endue some airy phantasies 
That had been floating loose about for years
And to such beings temperately deal forth
The many feelings that oppressed my heart
That hope hath been discouraged welcome light
Dawns from the east but dawns to disappear 
And mock me with a sky that ripens not
Into a steady morning if my mind
Remembering the bold promise of the past
Would gladly grapple with some noble theme
Vain is her wish where'er she turns she finds 
Impediments from day to day renewed
And now it would content me to yield up
Those lofty hopes awhile for present gifts
Of humbler industry But oh dear Friend
The Poet gentle creature as he is 
Hath like the Lover his unruly times
His fits when he is neither sick nor well
Though no distress be near him but his own
Unmanageable thoughts his mind best pleased
While she as duteous as the mother dove 
Sits brooding lives not always to that end
But like the innocent bird hath goadings on
That drive her as in trouble through the groves
With me is now such passion to be blamed
No otherwise than as it lasts too long 
When as becomes a man who would prepare
For such an arduous work I through myself
Make rigorous inquisition the report
Is often cheering for I neither seem
To lack that first great gift the vital soul 
Nor general Truths which are themselves a sort
Of Elements and Agents Under-powers
Subordinate helpers of the living mind
Nor am I naked of external things
Forms images nor numerous other aids 
Of less regard though won perhaps with toil
And needful to build up a Poet praise
Time place and manners do I seek and these
Are found in plenteous store but nowhere such
As may be singled out with steady choice 
No little band of yet remembered names
Whom I in perfect confidence might hope
To summon back from lonesome banishment
And make them dwellers in the hearts of men
Now living or to live in future years 
Sometimes the ambitious Power of choice mistaking
Proud spring-tide swellings for a regular sea
Will settle on some British theme some old
Romantic tale by Milton left unsung
More often turning to some gentle place 
Within the groves of Chivalry I pipe
To shepherd swains or seated harp in hand
Amid reposing knights by a river side
Or fountain listen to the grave reports
Of dire enchantments faced and overcome 
By the strong mind and tales of warlike feats
Where spear encountered spear and sword with sword
Fought as if conscious of the blazonry
That the shield bore so glorious was the strife
Whence inspiration for a song that winds 
Through ever changing scenes of votive quest
Wrongs to redress harmonious tribute paid
To patient courage and unblemished truth
To firm devotion zeal unquenchable
And Christian meekness hallowing faithful loves 
Sometimes more sternly moved I would relate
How vanquished Mithridates northward passed
And hidden in the cloud of years became
Odin the Father of a race by whom
Perished the Roman Empire how the friends 
And followers of Sertorius out of Spain
Flying found shelter in the Fortunate Isles
And left their usages their arts and laws
To disappear by a slow gradual death
To dwindle and to perish one by one 
Starved in those narrow bounds but not the soul
Of Liberty which fifteen hundred years
Survived and when the European came
With skill and power that might not be withstood
Did like a pestilence maintain its hold 
And wasted down by glorious death that race
Of natural heroes or I would record
How in tyrannic times some high-souled man
Unnamed among the chronicles of kings
Suffered in silence for Truth sake or tell 
How that one Frenchman through continued force
Of meditation on the inhuman deeds
Of those who conquered first the Indian Isles
Went single in his ministry across
The Ocean not to comfort the oppressed 
But like a thirsty wind to roam about
Withering the Oppressor how Gustavus sought
Help at his need in Dalecarlia mines
How Wallace fought for Scotland left the name
Of Wallace to be found like a wild flower 
All over his dear Country left the deeds
Of Wallace like a family of Ghosts
To people the steep rocks and river banks
Her natural sanctuaries with a local soul
Of independence and stern liberty 
Sometimes it suits me better to invent
A tale from my own heart more near akin
To my own passions and habitual thoughts
Some variegated story in the main
Lofty but the unsubstantial structure melts 
Before the very sun that brightens it
Mist into air dissolving Then a wish
My best and favourite aspiration mounts
With yearning toward some philosophic song
Of Truth that cherishes our daily life 
With meditations passionate from deep
Recesses in man heart immortal verse
Thoughtfully fitted to the Orphean lyre
But from this awful burthen I full soon
Take refuge and beguile myself with trust 
That mellower years will bring a riper mind
And clearer insight Thus my days are past
In contradiction with no skill to part
Vague longing haply bred by want of power
From paramount impulse not to be withstood 
A timorous capacity from prudence
From circumspection infinite delay
Humility and modest awe themselves
Betray me serving often for a cloak
To a more subtle selfishness that now 
Locks every function up in blank reserve
Now dupes me trusting to an anxious eye
That with intrusive restlessness beats off
Simplicity and self-presented truth
Ah better far than this to stray about 
Voluptuously through fields and rural walks
And ask no record of the hours resigned
To vacant musing unreproved neglect
Of all things and deliberate holiday
Far better never to have heard the name 
Of zeal and just ambition than to live
Baffled and plagued by a mind that every hour
Turns recreant to her task takes heart again
Then feels immediately some hollow thought
Hang like an interdict upon her hopes 
This is my lot for either still I find
Some imperfection in the chosen theme
Or see of absolute accomplishment
Much wanting so much wanting in myself
That I recoil and droop and seek repose 
In listlessness from vain perplexity
Unprofitably travelling toward the grave
Like a false steward who hath much received
And renders nothing back Was it for this
That one the fairest of all rivers loved 
To blend his murmurs with my nurse song
And from his alder shades and rocky falls
And from his fords and shallows sent a voice
That flowed along my dreams For this didst thou
O Derwent winding among grassy holms 
Where I was looking on a babe in arms
Make ceaseless music that composed my thoughts
To more than infant softness giving me
Amid the fretful dwellings of mankind
A foretaste a dim earnest of the calm 
That Nature breathes among the hills and groves
When he had left the mountains and received
On his smooth breast the shadow of those towers
That yet survive a shattered monument
Of feudal sway the bright blue river passed 
Along the margin of our terrace walk
A tempting playmate whom we dearly loved
Oh many a time have I a five years' child
In a small mill-race severed from his stream
Made one long bathing of a summer day 
Basked in the sun and plunged and basked again
Alternate all a summer day or scoured
The sandy fields leaping through flowery groves
Of yellow ragwort or when rock and hill
The woods and distant Skiddaw lofty height 
Were bronzed with deepest radiance stood alone
Beneath the sky as if I had been born
On Indian plains and from my mother hut
Had run abroad in wantonness to sport
A naked savage in the thunder shower 
Fair seed-time had my soul and I grew up
Fostered alike by beauty and by fear
Much favoured in my birth-place and no less
In that beloved Vale to which erelong
We were transplanted  there were we let loose 
For sports of wider range Ere I had told
Ten birth-days when among the mountain slopes
Frost and the breath of frosty wind had snapped
The last autumnal crocus 'twas my joy
With store of springes o'er my shoulder hung 
To range the open heights where woodcocks run
Along the smooth green turf Through half the night
Scudding away from snare to snare I plied
That anxious visitation moon and stars
Were shining o'er my head I was alone 
And seemed to be a trouble to the peace
That dwelt among them Sometimes it befel
In these night wanderings that a strong desire
O'erpowered my better reason and the bird
Which was the captive of another toil 
Became my prey and when the deed was done
I heard among the solitary hills
Low breathings coming after me and sounds
Of undistinguishable motion steps
Almost as silent as the turf they trod 
Nor less when spring had warmed the cultured Vale
Moved we as plunderers where the mother-bird
Had in high places built her lodge though mean
Our object and inglorious yet the end
Was not ignoble Oh when I have hung 
Above the raven nest by knots of grass
And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock
But ill sustained and almost so it seemed
Suspended by the blast that blew amain
Shouldering the naked crag oh at that time 
While on the perilous ridge I hung alone
With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind
Blow through my ear the sky seemed not a sky
Of earth and with what motion moved the clouds
Dust as we are the immortal spirit grows 
Like harmony in music there is a dark
Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles
Discordant elements makes them cling together
In one society How strange that all
The terrors pains and early miseries 
Regrets vexations lassitudes interfused
Within my mind should e'er have borne a part
And that a needful part in making up
The calm existence that is mine when I
Am worthy of myself Praise to the end 
Thanks to the means which Nature deigned to employ
Whether her fearless visitings or those
That came with soft alarm like hurtless light
Opening the peaceful clouds or she may use
Severer interventions ministry 
More palpable as best might suit her aim
One summer evening led by her I found
A little boat tied to a willow tree
Within a rocky cave its usual home
Straight I unloosed her chain and stepping in 
Pushed from the shore It was an act of stealth
And troubled pleasure nor without the voice
Of mountain-echoes did my boat move on
Leaving behind her still on either side
Small circles glittering idly in the moon 
Until they melted all into one track
Of sparkling light But now like one who rows
Proud of his skill to reach a chosen point
With an unswerving line I fixed my view
Upon the summit of a craggy ridge 
The horizon utmost boundary far above
Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky
She was an elfin pinnace lustily
I dipped my oars into the silent lake
And as I rose upon the stroke my boat 
Went heaving through the water like a swan
When from behind that craggy steep till then
The horizon bound a huge peak black and huge
As if with voluntary power instinct
Upreared its head I struck and struck again 
And growing still in stature the grim shape
Towered up between me and the stars and still
For so it seemed with purpose of its own
And measured motion like a living thing
Strode after me With trembling oars I turned 
And through the silent water stole my way
Back to the covert of the willow tree
There in her mooring-place I left my bark 
And through the meadows homeward went in grave
And serious mood but after I had seen 
That spectacle for many days my brain
Worked with a dim and undetermined sense
Of unknown modes of being o'er my thoughts
There hung a darkness call it solitude
Or blank desertion No familiar shapes 
Remained no pleasant images of trees
Of sea or sky no colours of green fields
But huge and mighty forms that do not live
Like living men moved slowly through the mind
By day and were a trouble to my dreams 
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe
Thou Soul that art the eternity of thought
That givest to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion not in vain
By day or star-light thus from my first dawn 
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul
Not with the mean and vulgar works of man
But with high objects with enduring things 
With life and nature purifying thus 
The elements of feeling and of thought
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart
Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me 
With stinted kindness In November days
When vapours rolling down the valley made
A lonely scene more lonesome among woods
At noon and 'mid the calm of summer nights
When by the margin of the trembling lake 
Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went
In solitude such intercourse was mine
Mine was it in the fields both day and night
And by the waters all the summer long
And in the frosty season when the sun 
Was set and visible for many a mile
The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom
I heeded not their summons happy time
It was indeed for all of us for me
It was a time of rapture Clear and loud 
The village clock tolled six I wheeled about
Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home All shod with steel
We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate imitative of the chase 
And woodland pleasures the resounding horn
The pack loud chiming and the hunted hare
So through the darkness and the cold we flew
And not a voice was idle with the din
Smitten the precipices rang aloud 
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron while far distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear and in the west 
The orange sky of evening died away
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay or sportively
Glanced sideway leaving the tumultuous throng
To cut across the reflex of a star 
That fled and flying still before me gleamed
Upon the glassy plain and oftentimes
When we had given our bodies to the wind
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness spinning still 
The rapid line of motion then at once
Have I reclining back upon my heels
Stopped short yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round 
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train
Feebler and feebler and I stood and watched
Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep
Ye Presences of Nature in the sky
And on the earth Ye Visions of the hills 
And Souls of lonely places can I think
A vulgar hope was yours when ye employed
Such ministry when ye through many a year
Haunting me thus among my boyish sports
On caves and trees upon the woods and hills 
Impressed upon all forms the characters
Of danger or desire and thus did make
The surface of the universal earth
With triumph and delight with hope and fear
Work like a sea
Not uselessly employed 
Might I pursue this theme through every change
Of exercise and play to which the year
Did summon us in his delightful round
We were a noisy crew the sun in heaven
Beheld not vales more beautiful than ours 
Nor saw a band in happiness and joy
Richer or worthier of the ground they trod
I could record with no reluctant voice
The woods of autumn and their hazel bowers
With milk-white clusters hung the rod and line 
True symbol of hope foolishness whose strong
And unreproved enchantment led us on
By rocks and pools shut out from every star
All the green summer to forlorn cascades
Among the windings hid of mountain brooks 
 Unfading recollections at this hour
The heart is almost mine with which I felt
From some hill-top on sunny afternoons
The paper kite high among fleecy clouds
Pull at her rein like an impetuous courser 
Or from the meadows sent on gusty days
Beheld her breast the wind then suddenly
Dashed headlong and rejected by the storm
Ye lowly cottages wherein we dwelt
A ministration of your own was yours 
Can I forget you being as you were
So beautiful among the pleasant fields
In which ye stood or can I here forget
The plain and seemly countenance with which
Ye dealt out your plain comforts Yet had ye 
Delights and exultations of your own
Eager and never weary we pursued
Our home-amusements by the warm peat-fire
At evening when with pencil and smooth slate
In square divisions parcelled out and all 
With crosses and with cyphers scribbled o'er
We schemed and puzzled head opposed to head
In strife too humble to be named in verse
Or round the naked table snow-white deal
Cherry or maple sate in close array 
And to the combat Loo or Whist led on
A thick-ribbed army not as in the world
Neglected and ungratefully thrown by
Even for the very service they had wrought
But husbanded through many a long campaign 
Uncouth assemblage was it where no few
Had changed their functions some plebeian cards
Which Fate beyond the promise of their birth
Had dignified and called to represent
The persons of departed potentates 
Oh with what echoes on the board they fell
Ironic diamonds clubs hearts diamonds spades
A congregation piteously akin
Cheap matter offered they to boyish wit
Those sooty knaves precipitated down 
With scoffs and taunts like Vulcan out of heaven
The paramount ace a moon in her eclipse
Queens gleaming through their splendour last decay
And monarchs surly at the wrongs sustained
By royal visages Meanwhile abroad 
Incessant rain was falling or the frost
Raged bitterly with keen and silent tooth
And interrupting oft that eager game
From under Esthwaite splitting fields of ice
The pent-up air struggling to free itself 
Gave out to meadow grounds and hills a loud
Protracted yelling like the noise of wolves
Howling in troops along the Bothnic Main
Nor sedulous as I have been to trace
How Nature by extrinsic passion first 
Peopled the mind with forms sublime or fair
And made me love them may I here omit
How other pleasures have been mine and joys
Of subtler origin how I have felt
Not seldom even in that tempestuous time 
Those hallowed and pure motions of the sense
Which seem in their simplicity to own
An intellectual charm that calm delight
Which if I err not surely must belong
To those first-born affinities that fit 
Our new existence to existing things
And in our dawn of being constitute
The bond of union between life and joy
Yes I remember when the changeful earth
And twice five summers on my mind had stamped 
The faces of the moving year even then
I held unconscious intercourse with beauty
Old as creation drinking in a pure
Organic pleasure from the silver wreaths
Of curling mist or from the level plain 
Of waters coloured by impending clouds
The sands of Westmoreland the creeks and bays
Of Cumbria rocky limits they can tell
How when the Sea threw off his evening shade
And to the shepherd hut on distant hills 
Sent welcome notice of the rising moon
How I have stood to fancies such as these
A stranger linking with the spectacle
No conscious memory of a kindred sight
And bringing with me no peculiar sense 
Of quietness or peace yet have I stood
Even while mine eye hath moved o'er many a league
Of shining water gathering as it seemed
Through every hair-breadth in that field of light
New pleasure like a bee among the flowers 
Thus oft amid those fits of vulgar joy
Which through all seasons on a child pursuits
Are prompt attendants 'mid that giddy bliss
Which like a tempest works along the blood
And is forgotten even then I felt 
Gleams like the flashing of a shield the earth
And common face of Nature spake to me
Rememberable things sometimes 'tis true
By chance collisions and quaint accidents
Like those ill-sorted unions work supposed 
Of evil-minded fairies yet not vain
Nor profitless if haply they impressed
Collateral objects and appearances
Albeit lifeless then and doomed to sleep
Until maturer seasons called them forth 
To impregnate and to elevate the mind
 And if the vulgar joy by its own weight
Wearied itself out of the memory
The scenes which were a witness of that joy
Remained in their substantial lineaments 
Depicted on the brain and to the eye
Were visible a daily sight and thus
By the impressive discipline of fear
By pleasure and repeated happiness
So frequently repeated and by force 
Of obscure feelings representative
Of things forgotten these same scenes so bright
So beautiful so majestic in themselves
Though yet the day was distant did become
Habitually dear and all their forms 
And changeful colours by invisible links
Were fastened to the affections I began
My story early not misled I trust
By an infirmity of love for days
Disowned by memory ere the breath of spring 
Planting my snowdrops among winter snows
Nor will it seem to thee O Friend so prompt
In sympathy that I have lengthened out
With fond and feeble tongue a tedious tale
Meanwhile my hope has been that I might fetch 
Invigorating thoughts from former years
Might fix the wavering balance of my mind
And haply meet reproaches too whose power
May spur me on in manhood now mature
To honourable toil Yet should these hopes 
Prove vain and thus should neither I be taught
To understand myself nor thou to know
With better knowledge how the heart was framed
Of him thou lovest need I dread from thee
Harsh judgments if the song be loth to quit 
Those recollected hours that have the charm
Of visionary things those lovely forms
And sweet sensations that throw back our life
And almost make remotest infancy
A visible scene on which the sun is shining 
One end at least hath been attained my mind
Hath been revived and if this genial mood
Desert me not forthwith shall be brought down
Through later years the story of my life
The road lies plain before me 'tis a theme 
Single and of determined bounds and hence
I choose it rather at this time than work
Of ampler or more varied argument
Where I might be discomfited and lost
And certain hopes are with me that to thee 
This labour will be welcome honoured Friend
Thus far O Friend have we though leaving much
Unvisited endeavoured to retrace
The simple ways in which my childhood walked
Those chiefly that first led me to the love
Of rivers woods and fields The passion yet 
Was in its birth sustained as might befal
By nourishment that came unsought for still
From week to week from month to month we lived
A round of tumult Duly were our games
Prolonged in summer till the day-light failed 
No chair remained before the doors the bench
And threshold steps were empty fast asleep
The labourer and the old man who had sate
A later lingerer yet the revelry
Continued and the loud uproar at last 
When all the ground was dark and twinkling stars
Edged the black clouds home and to bed we went
Feverish with weary joints and beating minds
Ah is there one who ever has been young
Nor needs a warning voice to tame the pride 
Of intellect and virtue self-esteem
One is there though the wisest and the best
Of all mankind who covets not at times
Union that cannot be who would not give
If so he might to duty and to truth 
The eagerness of infantine desire
A tranquillising spirit presses now
On my corporeal frame so wide appears
The vacancy between me and those days
Which yet have such self-presence in my mind 
That musing on them often do I seem
Two consciousnesses conscious of myself
And of some other Being A rude mass
Of native rock left midway in the square
Of our small market village was the goal 
Or centre of these sports and when returned
After long absence thither I repaired
Gone was the old grey stone and in its place
A smart Assembly-room usurped the ground
That had been ours There let the fiddle scream 
And be ye happy Yet my Friends I know
That more than one of you will think with me
Of those soft starry nights and that old Dame
From whom the stone was named who there had sate
And watched her table with its huckster wares 
Assiduous through the length of sixty years
We ran a boisterous course the year span round
With giddy motion But the time approached
That brought with it a regular desire
For calmer pleasures when the winning forms 
Of Nature were collaterally attached
To every scheme of holiday delight
And every boyish sport less grateful else
And languidly pursued When summer came
Our pastime was on bright half-holidays 
To sweep along the plain of Windermere
With rival oars and the selected bourne
Was now an Island musical with birds
That sang and ceased not now a Sister Isle
Beneath the oaks' umbrageous covert sown 
With lilies of the valley like a field
And now a third small Island where survived
In solitude the ruins of a shrine
Once to Our Lady dedicate and served
Daily with chaunted rites In such a race 
So ended disappointment could be none
Uneasiness or pain or jealousy
We rested in the shade all pleased alike
Conquered and conqueror Thus the pride of strength
And the vain-glory of superior skill 
Were tempered thus was gradually produced
A quiet independence of the heart
And to my Friend who knows me I may add
Fearless of blame that hence for future days
Ensued a diffidence and modesty 
And I was taught to feel perhaps too much
The self-sufficing power of Solitude
Our daily meals were frugal Sabine fare
More than we wished we knew the blessing then
Of vigorous hunger hence corporeal strength 
Unsapped by delicate viands for exclude
A little weekly stipend and we lived
Through three divisions of the quartered year
In penniless poverty But now to school
From the half-yearly holidays returned 
We came with weightier purses that sufficed
To furnish treats more costly than the Dame
Of the old grey stone from her scant board supplied
Hence rustic dinners on the cool green ground
Or in the woods or by a river side 
Or shady fountains while among the leaves
Soft airs were stirring and the mid-day sun
Unfelt shone brightly round us in our joy
Nor is my aim neglected if I tell
How sometimes in the length of those half-years 
We from our funds drew largely proud to curb
And eager to spur on the galloping steed
And with the courteous inn-keeper whose stud
Supplied our want we haply might employ
Sly subterfuge if the adventure bound 
Were distant some famed temple where of yore
The Druids worshipped or the antique walls
Of that large abbey where within the Vale
Of Nightshade to St Mary honour built
Stands yet a mouldering pile with fractured arch 
Belfry and images and living trees
A holy scene Along the smooth green turf
Our horses grazed To more than inland peace
Left by the west wind sweeping overhead
From a tumultuous ocean trees and towers 
In that sequestered valley may be seen
Both silent and both motionless alike
Such the deep shelter that is there and such
The safeguard for repose and quietness
Our steeds remounted and the summons given 
With whip and spur we through the chauntry flew
In uncouth race and left the cross-legged knight
And the stone-abbot and that single wren
Which one day sang so sweetly in the nave
Of the old church that though from recent showers 
The earth was comfortless and touched by faint
Internal breezes sobbings of the place
And respirations from the roofless walls
The shuddering ivy dripped large drops yet still
So sweetly 'mid the gloom the invisible bird 
Sang to herself that there I could have made
My dwelling-place and lived for ever there
To hear such music Through the walls we flew
And down the valley and a circuit made
In wantonness of heart through rough and smooth 
We scampered homewards Oh ye rocks and streams
And that still spirit shed from evening air
Even in this joyous time I sometimes felt
Your presence when with slackened step we breathed
Along the sides of the steep hills or when 
Lighted by gleams of moonlight from the sea
We beat with thundering hoofs the level sand
Midway on long Winander eastern shore
Within the crescent of a pleasant bay
A tavern stood no homely-featured house 
Primeval like its neighbouring cottages
But 'twas a splendid place the door beset
With chaises grooms and liveries and within
Decanters glasses and the blood-red wine
In ancient times and ere the Hall was built 
On the large island had this dwelling been
More worthy of a poet love a hut
Proud of its own bright fire and sycamore shade
But though the rhymes were gone that once inscribed
The threshold and large golden characters 
Spread o'er the spangled sign-board had dislodged
The old Lion and usurped his place in slight
And mockery of the rustic painter hand 
Yet to this hour the spot to me is dear
With all its foolish pomp The garden lay 
Upon a slope surmounted by a plain
Of a small bowling-green beneath us stood
A grove with gleams of water through the trees
And over the tree-tops nor did we want
Refreshment strawberries and mellow cream 
There while through half an afternoon we played
On the smooth platform whether skill prevailed
Or happy blunder triumphed bursts of glee
Made all the mountains ring But ere night-fall
When in our pinnace we returned at leisure 
Over the shadowy lake and to the beach
Of some small island steered our course with one
The Minstrel of the Troop and left him there
And rowed off gently while he blew his flute
Alone upon the rock oh then the calm 
And dead still water lay upon my mind
Even with a weight of pleasure and the sky
Never before so beautiful sank down
Into my heart and held me like a dream
Thus were my sympathies enlarged and thus 
Daily the common range of visible things
Grew dear to me already I began
To love the sun a boy I loved the sun
Not as I since have loved him as a pledge
And surety of our earthly life a light 
Which we behold and feel we are alive
Nor for his bounty to so many worlds 
But for this cause that I had seen him lay
His beauty on the morning hills had seen
The western mountain touch his setting orb 
In many a thoughtless hour when from excess
Of happiness my blood appeared to flow
For its own pleasure and I breathed with joy
And from like feelings humble though intense
To patriotic and domestic love 
Analogous the moon to me was dear
For I could dream away my purposes
Standing to gaze upon her while she hung
Midway between the hills as if she knew
No other region but belonged to thee 
Yea appertained by a peculiar right
To thee and thy grey huts thou one dear Vale
Those incidental charms which first attached
My heart to rural objects day by day
Grew weaker and I hasten on to tell 
How Nature intervenient till this time
And secondary now at length was sought
For her own sake But who shall parcel out
His intellect by geometric rules
Split like a province into round and square 
Who knows the individual hour in which
His habits were first sown even as a seed
Who that shall point as with a wand and say
This portion of the river of my mind
Came from yon fountain Thou my Friend art one 
More deeply read in thy own thoughts to thee
Science appears but what in truth she is
Not as our glory and our absolute boast
But as a succedaneum and a prop
To our infirmity No officious slave 
Art thou of that false secondary power
By which we multiply distinctions then
Deem that our puny boundaries are things
That we perceive and not that we have made
To thee unblinded by these formal arts 
The unity of all hath been revealed
And thou wilt doubt with me less aptly skilled
Than many are to range the faculties
In scale and order class the cabinet
Of their sensations and in voluble phrase 
Run through the history and birth of each
As of a single independent thing
Hard task vain hope to analyse the mind
If each most obvious and particular thought
Not in a mystical and idle sense 
But in the words of Reason deeply weighed
Hath no beginning Blest the infant Babe
For with my best conjecture I would trace
Our Being earthly progress blest the Babe
Nursed in his Mother arms who sinks to sleep 
Rocked on his Mother breast who with his soul
Drinks in the feelings of his Mother eye
For him in one dear Presence there exists
A virtue which irradiates and exalts
Objects through widest intercourse of sense 
No outcast he bewildered and depressed
Along his infant veins are interfused
The gravitation and the filial bond
Of nature that connect him with the world
Is there a flower to which he points with hand 
Too weak to gather it already love
Drawn from love purest earthly fount for him
Hath beautified that flower already shades
Of pity cast from inward tenderness
Do fall around him upon aught that bears 
Unsightly marks of violence or harm
Emphatically such a Being lives
Frail creature as he is helpless as frail
An inmate of this active universe
For feeling has to him imparted power 
That through the growing faculties of sense
Doth like an agent of the one great Mind
Create creator and receiver both
Working but in alliance with the works
Which it beholds Such verily is the first 
Poetic spirit of our human life
By uniform control of after years
In most abated or suppressed in some
Through every change of growth and of decay
Pre-eminent till death From early days 
Beginning not long after that first time
In which a Babe by intercourse of touch
I held mute dialogues with my Mother heart
I have endeavoured to display the means
Whereby this infant sensibility 
Great birthright of our being was in me
Augmented and sustained Yet is a path
More difficult before me and I fear
That in its broken windings we shall need
The chamois' sinews and the eagle wing 
For now a trouble came into my mind
From unknown causes I was left alone
Seeking the visible world nor knowing why
The props of my affections were removed
And yet the building stood as if sustained 
By its own spirit All that I beheld
Was dear and hence to finer influxes
The mind lay open to a more exact
And close communion Many are our joys
In youth but oh what happiness to live 
When every hour brings palpable access
Of knowledge when all knowledge is delight
And sorrow is not there The seasons came
And every season wheresoe'er I moved
Unfolded transitory qualities 
Which but for this most watchful power of love
Had been neglected left a register
Of permanent relations else unknown
Hence life and change and beauty solitude
More active even than best society  
Society made sweet as solitude
By silent inobtrusive sympathies 
And gentle agitations of the mind
From manifold distinctions difference
Perceived in things where to the unwatchful eye 
No difference is and hence from the same source
Sublimer joy for I would walk alone
Under the quiet stars and at that time
Have felt whate'er there is of power in sound
To breathe an elevated mood by form 
Or image unprofaned and I would stand
If the night blackened with a coming storm
Beneath some rock listening to notes that are
The ghostly language of the ancient earth
Or make their dim abode in distant winds 
Thence did I drink the visionary power
And deem not profitless those fleeting moods
Of shadowy exultation not for this
That they are kindred to our purer mind
And intellectual life but that the soul 
Remembering how she felt but what she felt
Remembering not retains an obscure sense
Of possible sublimity whereto
With growing faculties she doth aspire
With faculties still growing feeling still 
That whatsoever point they gain they yet
Have something to pursue And not alone
'Mid gloom and tumult but no less 'mid fair
And tranquil scenes that universal power
And fitness in the latent qualities 
And essences of things by which the mind
Is moved with feelings of delight to me
Came strengthened with a superadded soul
A virtue not its own My morning walks
Were early oft before the hours of school 
I travelled round our little lake five miles
Of pleasant wandering Happy time more dear
For this that one was by my side a Friend
Then passionately loved with heart how full
Would he peruse these lines For many years 
Have since flowed in between us and our minds
Both silent to each other at this time
We live as if those hours had never been
Nor seldom did I lift our cottage latch
Far earlier ere one smoke-wreath had risen 
From human dwelling or the vernal thrush
Was audible and sate among the woods
Alone upon some jutting eminence
At the first gleam of dawn-light when the Vale
Yet slumbering lay in utter solitude 
How shall I seek the origin where find
Faith in the marvellous things which then I felt
Oft in these moments such a holy calm
Would overspread my soul that bodily eyes
Were utterly forgotten and what I saw 
Appeared like something in myself a dream
A prospect in the mind 'Twere long to tell
What spring and autumn what the winter snows
And what the summer shade what day and night
Evening and morning sleep and waking thought 
From sources inexhaustible poured forth
To feed the spirit of religious love
In which I walked with Nature But let this
Be not forgotten that I still retained
My first creative sensibility 
That by the regular action of the world
My soul was unsubdued A plastic power
Abode with me a forming hand at times
Rebellious acting in a devious mood
A local spirit of his own at war 
With general tendency but for the most
Subservient strictly to external things
With which it communed An auxiliar light
Came from my mind which on the setting sun
Bestowed new splendour the melodious birds 
The fluttering breezes fountains that run on
Murmuring so sweetly in themselves obeyed
A like dominion and the midnight storm
Grew darker in the presence of my eye
Hence my obeisance my devotion hence 
And hence my transport Nor should this perchance
Pass unrecorded that I still had loved
The exercise and produce of a toil
Than analytic industry to me
More pleasing and whose character I deem 
Is more poetic as resembling more
Creative agency The song would speak
Of that interminable building reared
By observation of affinities
In objects where no brotherhood exists 
To passive minds My seventeenth year was come
And whether from this habit rooted now
So deeply in my mind or from excess
In the great social principle of life
Coercing all things into sympathy 
To unorganic ratures were transferred
My own enjoyments or the power of truth
Coming in revelation did converse
With things that really are I at this time
Saw blessings spread around me like a sea 
Thus while the days flew by and years passed on
From Nature and her overflowing soul
I had received so much that all my thoughts
Were steeped in feeling I was only then
Contented when with bliss ineffable 
I felt the sentiment of Being spread
O'er all that moves and all that seemeth still
O'er all that lost beyond the reach of thought
And human knowledge to the human eye
Invisible yet liveth to the heart 
O'er all that leaps and runs and shouts and sings
Or beats the gladsome air o'er all that glides
Beneath the wave yea in the wave itself
And mighty depth of waters Wonder not
If high the transport great the joy I felt 
Communing in this sort through earth and heaven
With every form of creature as it looked
Towards the Uncreated with a countenance
Of adoration with an eye of love
One song they sang and it was audible 
Most audible then when the fleshly ear
O'ercome by humblest prelude of that strain
Forgot her functions and slept undisturbed
If this be error and another faith
Find easier access to the pious mind 
Yet were I grossly destitute of all
Those human sentiments that make this earth
So dear if I should fail with grateful voice
To speak of you ye mountains and ye lakes
And sounding cataracts ye mists and winds 
That dwell among the hills where I was born
If in my youth I have been pure in heart
If mingling with the world I am content
With my own modest pleasures and have lived
With God and Nature communing removed 
From little enmities and low desires
The gift is yours if in these times of fear
This melancholy waste of hopes o'erthrown
If 'mid indifference and apathy
And wicked exultation when good men 
On every side fall off we know not how
To selfishness disguised in gentle names
Of peace and quiet and domestic love
Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers
On visionary minds if in this time 
Of dereliction and dismay I yet
Despair not of our nature but retain
A more than Roman confidence a faith
That fails not in all sorrow my support
The blessing of my life the gift is yours 
Ye winds and sounding cataracts 'tis yours
Ye mountains thine O Nature Thou hast fed
My lofty speculations and in thee
For this uneasy heart of ours I find
A never-failing principle of joy 
And purest passion Thou my Friend wert reared
In the great city 'mid far other scenes
But we by different roads at length have gained
The self-same bourne And for this cause to thee
I speak unapprehensive of contempt 
The insinuated scoff of coward tongues
And all that silent language which so oft
In conversation between man and man
Blots from the human countenance all trace
Of beauty and of love For thou hast sought 
The truth in solitude and since the days
That gave thee liberty full long desired
To serve in Nature temple thou hast been
The most assiduous of her ministers
In many things my brother chiefly here 
In this our deep devotion Fare thee well
Health and the quiet of a healthful mind
Attend thee seeking oft the haunts of men
And yet more often living with thyself
And for thyself so haply shall thy days 
Be many and a blessing to mankind
It was a dreary morning when the wheels
Rolled over a wide plain o'erhung with clouds
And nothing cheered our way till first we saw
The long-roofed chapel of King College lift
Turrets and pinnacles in answering files 
Extended high above a dusky grove
Advancing we espied upon the road
A student clothed in gown and tasselled cap
Striding along as if o'ertasked by Time
Or covetous of exercise and air 
He passed nor was I master of my eyes
Till he was left an arrow flight behind
As near and nearer to the spot we drew
It seemed to suck us in with an eddy force
Onward we drove beneath the Castle caught 
While crossing Magdalene Bridge a glimpse of Cam
And at the 'Hoop' alighted famous Inn
My spirit was up my thoughts were full of hope
Some friends I had acquaintances who there
Seemed friends poor simple school-boys now hung round 
With honour and importance in a world
Of welcome faces up and down I roved
Questions directions warnings and advice
Flowed in upon me from all sides fresh day
Of pride and pleasure to myself I seemed 
A man of business and expense and went
From shop to shop about my own affairs
To Tutor or to Tailor as befel
From street to street with loose and careless mind
I was the Dreamer they the Dream I roamed 
Delighted through the motley spectacle
Gowns grave or gaudy doctors students streets
Courts cloisters flocks of churches gateways towers
Migration strange for a stripling of the hills
A northern villager
As if the change 
Had waited on some Fairy wand at once
Behold me rich in monies and attired
In splendid garb with hose of silk and hair
Powdered like rimy trees when frost is keen
My lordly dressing-gown I pass it by 
With other signs of manhood that supplied
The lack of beard The weeks went roundly on
With invitations suppers wine and fruit
Smooth housekeeping within and all without
Liberal and suiting gentleman array 
The Evangelist St John my patron was
Three Gothic courts are his and in the first
Was my abiding-place a nook obscure
Right underneath the College kitchens made
A humming sound less tuneable than bees 
But hardly less industrious with shrill notes
Of sharp command and scolding intermixed
Near me hung Trinity loquacious clock
Who never let the quarters night or day
Slip by him unproclaimed and told the hours 
Twice over with a male and female voice
Her pealing organ was my neighbour too
And from my pillow looking forth by light
Of moon or favouring stars I could behold
The antechapel where the statue stood 
Of Newton with his prism and silent face
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of Thought alone
Of College labours of the Lecturer room
All studded round as thick as chairs could stand 
With loyal students faithful to their books
Half-and-half idlers hardy recusants
And honest dunces of important days
Examinations when the man was weighed
As in a balance of excessive hopes 
Tremblings withal and commendable fears
Small jealousies and triumphs good or bad
Let others that know more speak as they know
Such glory was but little sought by me
And little won Yet from the first crude days 
Of settling time in this untried abode
I was disturbed at times by prudent thoughts
Wishing to hope without a hope some fears
About my future worldly maintenance
And more than all a strangeness in the mind 
A feeling that I was not for that hour
Nor for that place But wherefore be cast down
For not to speak of Reason and her pure
Reflective acts to fix the moral law
Deep in the conscience nor of Christian Hope 
Bowing her head before her sister Faith
As one far mightier hither I had come
Bear witness Truth endowed with holy powers
And faculties whether to work or feel
Oft when the dazzling show no longer new 
Had ceased to dazzle ofttimes did I quit
My comrades leave the crowd buildings and groves
And as I paced alone the level fields
Far from those lovely sights and sounds sublime
With which I had been conversant the mind 
Drooped not but there into herself returning
With prompt rebound seemed fresh as heretofore
At least I more distinctly recognised
Her native instincts let me dare to speak
A higher language say that now I felt 
What independent solaces were mine
To mitigate the injurious sway of place
Or circumstance how far soever changed
In youth or to be changed in manhood prime
Or for the few who shall be called to look 
On the long shadows in our evening years
Ordained precursors to the night of death
As if awakened summoned roused constrained
I looked for universal things perused
The common countenance of earth and sky 
Earth nowhere unembellished by some trace
Of that first Paradise whence man was driven
And sky whose beauty and bounty are expressed
By the proud name she bears the name of Heaven
I called on both to teach me what they might 
Or turning the mind in upon herself
Pored watched expected listened spread my thoughts
And spread them with a wider creeping felt
Incumbencies more awful visitings
Of the Upholder of the tranquil soul 
That tolerates the indignities of Time
And from the centre of Eternity
All finite motions overruling lives
In glory immutable But peace enough
Here to record that I was mounting now 
To such community with highest truth 
A track pursuing not untrod before
From strict analogies by thought supplied
Or consciousnesses not to be subdued
To every natural form rock fruit or flower 
Even the loose stones that cover the high-way
I gave a moral life I saw them feel
Or linked them to some feeling the great mass
Lay bedded in a quickening soul and all
That I beheld respired with inward meaning 
Add that whate'er of Terror or of Love
Or Beauty Nature daily face put on
From transitory passion unto this
I was as sensitive as waters are
To the sky influence in a kindred mood 
Of passion was obedient as a lute
That waits upon the touches of the wind
Unknown unthought of yet I was most rich 
I had a world about me 'twas my own
I made it for it only lived to me 
And to the God who sees into the heart
Such sympathies though rarely were betrayed
By outward gestures and by visible looks
Some called it madness so indeed it was
If child-like fruitfulness in passing joy 
If steady moods of thoughtfulness matured
To inspiration sort with such a name
If prophecy be madness if things viewed
By poets in old time and higher up
By the first men earth first inhabitants 
May in these tutored days no more be seen
With undisordered sight But leaving this
It was no madness for the bodily eye
Amid my strongest workings evermore
Was searching out the lines of difference 
As they lie hid in all external forms
Near or remote minute or vast an eye
Which from a tree a stone a withered leaf
To the broad ocean and the azure heavens
Spangled with kindred multitudes of stars 
Could find no surface where its power might sleep
Which spake perpetual logic to my soul
And by an unrelenting agency
Did bind my feelings even as in a chain
And here O Friend have I retraced my life 
Up to an eminence and told a tale
Of matters which not falsely may be called
The glory of my youth Of genius power
Creation and divinity itself
I have been speaking for my theme has been 
What passed within me Not of outward things
Done visibly for other minds words signs
Symbols or actions but of my own heart
Have I been speaking and my youthful mind
O Heavens how awful is the might of souls 
And what they do within themselves while yet
The yoke of earth is new to them the world
Nothing but a wild field where they were sown
This is in truth heroic argument
This genuine prowess which I wished to touch 
With hand however weak but in the main
It lies far hidden from the reach of words
Points have we all of us within our souls
Where all stand single this I feel and make
Breathings for incommunicable powers 
But is not each a memory to himself
And therefore now that we must quit this theme
I am not heartless for there not a man
That lives who hath not known his god-like hours
And feels not what an empire we inherit 
As natural beings in the strength of Nature
No more for now into a populous plain
We must descend A Traveller I am
Whose tale is only of himself even so
So be it if the pure of heart be prompt 
To follow and if thou my honoured Friend
Who in these thoughts art ever at my side
Support as heretofore my fainting steps
It hath been told that when the first delight
That flashed upon me from this novel show 
Had failed the mind returned into herself
Yet true it is that I had made a change
In climate and my nature outward coat
Changed also slowly and insensibly
Full oft the quiet and exalted thoughts 
Of loneliness gave way to empty noise
And superficial pastimes now and then
Forced labour and more frequently forced hopes
And worst of all a treasonable growth
Of indecisive judgments that impaired 
And shook the mind simplicity And yet
This was a gladsome time Could I behold 
Who less insensible than sodden clay
In a sea-river bed at ebb of tide
Could have beheld with undelighted heart 
So many happy youths so wide and fair
A congregation in its budding-time
Of health and hope and beauty all at once
So many divers samples from the growth
Of life sweet season could have seen unmoved 
That miscellaneous garland of wild flowers
Decking the matron temples of a place
So famous through the world To me at least
It was a goodly prospect for in sooth
Though I had learnt betimes to stand unpropped 
And independent musings pleased me so
That spells seemed on me when I was alone
Yet could I only cleave to solitude
In lonely places if a throng was near
That way I leaned by nature for my heart 
Was social and loved idleness and joy
Not seeking those who might participate
My deeper pleasures nay I had not once
Though not unused to mutter lonesome songs
Even with myself divided such delight 
Or looked that way for aught that might be clothed
In human language easily I passed
From the remembrances of better things
And slipped into the ordinary works
Of careless youth unburthened unalarmed 
Caverns there were within my mind which sun
Could never penetrate yet did there not
Want store of leafy arbours where the light
Might enter in at will Companionships
Friendships acquaintances were welcome all 
We sauntered played or rioted we talked
Unprofitable talk at morning hours
Drifted about along the streets and walks
Read lazily in trivial books went forth
To gallop through the country in blind zeal 
Of senseless horsemanship or on the breast
Of Cam sailed boisterously and let the stars
Come forth perhaps without one quiet thought
Such was the tenor of the second act
In this new life Imagination slept 
And yet not utterly I could not print
Ground where the grass had yielded to the steps
Of generations of illustrious men
Unmoved I could not always lightly pass
Through the same gateways sleep where they had slept 
Wake where they waked range that inclosure old
That garden of great intellects undisturbed
Place also by the side of this dark sense
Of noble feeling that those spiritual men
Even the great Newton own ethereal self 
Seemed humbled in these precincts thence to be
The more endeared Their several memories here
Even like their persons in their portraits clothed
With the accustomed garb of daily life
Put on a lowly and a touching grace 
Of more distinct humanity that left
All genuine admiration unimpaired
Beside the pleasant Mill of Trompington
I laughed with Chaucer in the hawthorn shade
Heard him while birds were warbling tell his tales 
Of amorous passion And that gentle Bard
Chosen by the Muses for their Page of State 
Sweet Spenser moving through his clouded heaven
With the moon beauty and the moon soft pace
I called him Brother Englishman and Friend 
Yea our blind Poet who in his later day
Stood almost single uttering odious truth 
Darkness before and danger voice behind
Soul awful if the earth has ever lodged
An awful soul I seemed to see him here 
Familiarly and in his scholar dress
Bounding before me yet a stripling youth 
A boy no better with his rosy cheeks
Angelical keen eye courageous look
And conscious step of purity and pride 
Among the band of my compeers was one
Whom chance had stationed in the very room
Honoured by Milton name O temperate Bard
Be it confest that for the first time seated
Within thy innocent lodge and oratory 
One of a festive circle I poured out
Libations to thy memory drank till pride
And gratitude grew dizzy in a brain
Never excited by the fumes of wine
Before that hour or since Then forth I ran 
From the assembly through a length of streets
Ran ostrich-like to reach our chapel door
In not a desperate or opprobrious time
Albeit long after the importunate bell
Had stopped with wearisome Cassandra voice 
No longer haunting the dark winter night
Call back O Friend a moment to thy mind
The place itself and fashion of the rites
With careless ostentation shouldering up
My surplice through the inferior throng I clove 
Of the plain Burghers who in audience stood
On the last skirts of their permitted ground
Under the pealing organ Empty thoughts
I am ashamed of them and that great Bard
And thou O Friend who in thy ample mind 
Hast placed me high above my best deserts
Ye will forgive the weakness of that hour
In some of its unworthy vanities
Brother to many more In this mixed sort
The months passed on remissly not given up 
To wilful alienation from the right
Or walks of open scandal but in vague
And loose indifference easy likings aims
Of a low pitch duty and zeal dismissed
Yet Nature or a happy course of things 
Not doing in their stead the needful work
The memory languidly revolved the heart
Reposed in noontide rest the inner pulse
Of contemplation almost failed to beat
Such life might not inaptly be compared 
To a floating island an amphibious spot
Unsound of spongy texture yet withal
Not wanting a fair face of water weeds
And pleasant flowers The thirst of living praise
Fit reverence for the glorious Dead the sight 
Of those long vistas sacred catacombs
Where mighty minds lie visibly entombed
Have often stirred the heart of youth and bred
A fervent love of rigorous discipline 
Alas such high emotion touched not me 
Look was there none within these walls to shame
My easy spirits and discountenance
Their light composure far less to instil
A calm resolve of mind firmly addressed
To puissant efforts Nor was this the blame 
Of others but my own I should in truth
As far as doth concern my single self
Misdeem most widely lodging it elsewhere
For I bred up 'mid Nature luxuries
Was a spoiled child and rambling like the wind 
As I had done in daily intercourse
With those crystalline rivers solemn heights
And mountains ranging like a fowl of the air
I was ill-tutored for captivity
To quit my pleasure and from month to month 
Take up a station calmly on the perch
Of sedentary peace Those lovely forms
Had also left less space within my mind
Which wrought upon instinctively had found
A freshness in those objects of her love 
A winning power beyond all other power
Not that I slighted books  that were to lack
All sense but other passions in me ruled
Passions more fervent making me less prompt
To in-door study than was wise or well 
Or suited to those years Yet I though used
In magisterial liberty to rove
Culling such flowers of learning as might tempt
A random choice could shadow forth a place
If now I yield not to a flattering dream 
Whose studious aspect should have bent me down
To instantaneous service should at once
Have made me pay to science and to arts
And written lore acknowledged my liege lord
A homage frankly offered up like that 
Which I had paid to Nature Toil and pains
In this recess by thoughtful Fancy built
Should spread from heart to heart and stately groves
Majestic edifices should not want
A corresponding dignity within 
The congregating temper that pervades
Our unripe years not wasted should be taught
To minister to works of high attempt 
Works which the enthusiast would perform with love
Youth should be awed religiously possessed 
With a conviction of the power that waits
On knowledge when sincerely sought and prized
For its own sake on glory and on praise
If but by labour won and fit to endure
The passing day should learn to put aside 
Her trappings here should strip them off abashed
Before antiquity and stedfast truth
And strong book-mindedness and over all
A healthy sound simplicity should reign
A seemly plainness name it what you will 
Republican or pious If these thoughts
Are a gratuitous emblazonry
That mocks the recreant age we live in then
Be Folly and False-seeming free to affect
Whatever formal gait of discipline 
Shall raise them highest in their own esteem 
Let them parade among the Schools at will
But spare the House of God Was ever known
The witless shepherd who persists to drive
A flock that thirsts not to a pool disliked 
A weight must surely hang on days begun
And ended with such mockery Be wise
Ye Presidents and Deans and till the spirit
Of ancient times revive and youth be trained
At home in pious service to your bells 
Give seasonable rest for 'tis a sound
Hollow as ever vexed the tranquil air
And your officious doings bring disgrace
On the plain steeples of our English Church
Whose worship 'mid remotest village trees 
Suffers for this Even Science too at hand
In daily sight of this irreverence
Is smitten thence with an unnatural taint
Loses her just authority falls beneath
Collateral suspicion else unknown 
This truth escaped me not and I confess
That having 'mid my native hills given loose
To a schoolboy vision I had raised a pile
Upon the basis of the coming time
That fell in ruins round me Oh what joy 
To see a sanctuary for our country youth
Informed with such a spirit as might be
Its own protection a primeval grove
Where though the shades with cheerfulness were filled
Nor indigent of songs warbled from crowds 
In under-coverts yet the countenance
Of the whole place should bear a stamp of awe
A habitation sober and demure
For ruminating creatures a domain
For quiet things to wander in a haunt 
In which the heron should delight to feed
By the shy rivers and the pelican
Upon the cypress spire in lonely thought
Might sit and sun himself Alas Alas
In vain for such solemnity I looked 
Mine eyes were crossed by butterflies ears vexed
By chattering popinjays the inner heart
Seemed trivial and the impresses without
Of a too gaudy region Different sight
Those venerable Doctors saw of old 
When all who dwelt within these famous walls
Led in abstemiousness a studious life
When in forlorn and naked chambers cooped
And crowded o'er the ponderous books they hung
Like caterpillars eating out their way 
In silence or with keen devouring noise
Not to be tracked or fathered Princes then
At matins froze and couched at curfew-time
Trained up through piety and zeal to prize
Spare diet patient labour and plain weeds 
O seat of Arts renowned throughout the world
Far different service in those homely days
The Muses' modest nurslings underwent
From their first childhood in that glorious time
When Learning like a stranger come from far 
Sounding through Christian lands her trumpet roused
Peasant and king when boys and youths the growth
Of ragged villages and crazy huts
Forsook their homes and errant in the quest
Of Patron famous school or friendly nook 
Where pensioned they in shelter might sit down
From town to town and through wide scattered realms
Journeyed with ponderous folios in their hands
And often starting from some covert place
Saluted the chance comer on the road 
Crying An obolus a penny give
To a poor scholar  when illustrious men
Lovers of truth by penury constrained
Bucer Erasmus or Melancthon read
Before the doors or windows of their cells 
By moonshine through mere lack of taper light
But peace to vain regrets We see but darkly
Even when we look behind us and best things
Are not so pure by nature that they needs
Must keep to all as fondly all believe 
Their highest promise If the mariner
When at reluctant distance he hath passed
Some tempting island could but know the ills
That must have fallen upon him had he brought
His bark to land upon the wished-for shore 
Good cause would oft be his to thank the surf
Whose white belt scared him thence or wind that blew
Inexorably adverse for myself
I grieve not happy is the gowned youth
Who only misses what I missed who falls 
No lower than I fell I did not love
Judging not ill perhaps the timid course
Of our scholastic studies could have wished
To see the river flow with ampler range
And freer pace but more far more I grieved 
To see displayed among an eager few
Who in the field of contest persevered
Passions unworthy of youth generous heart
And mounting spirit pitiably repaid
When so disturbed whatever palms are won 
From these I turned to travel with the shoal
Of more unthinking natures easy minds
And pillowy yet not wanting love that makes
The day pass lightly on when foresight sleeps
And wisdom and the pledges interchanged 
With our own inner being are forgot
Yet was this deep vacation not given up
To utter waste Hitherto I had stood
In my own mind remote from social life
At least from what we commonly so name 
Like a lone shepherd on a promontory
Who lacking occupation looks far forth
Into the boundless sea and rather makes
Than finds what he beholds And sure it is
That this first transit from the smooth delights 
And wild outlandish walks of simple youth
To something that resembles an approach
Towards human business to a privileged world
Within a world a midway residence
With all its intervenient imagery 
Did better suit my visionary mind
Far better than to have been bolted forth
Thrust out abruptly into Fortune way
Among the conflicts of substantial life
By a more just gradation did lead on 
To higher things more naturally matured
For permanent possession better fruits
Whether of truth or virtue to ensue
In serious mood but oftener I confess
With playful zest of fancy did we note 
How could we less the manners and the ways
Of those who lived distinguished by the badge
Of good or ill report or those with whom
By frame of Academic discipline
We were perforce connected men whose sway 
And known authority of office served
To set our minds on edge and did no more
Nor wanted we rich pastime of this kind
Found everywhere but chiefly in the ring
Of the grave Elders men unsecured grotesque 
In character tricked out like aged trees
Which through the lapse of their infirmity
Give ready place to any random seed
That chooses to be reared upon their trunks
Here on my view confronting vividly 
Those shepherd swains whom I had lately left
Appeared a different aspect of old age
How different yet both distinctly marked
Objects embossed to catch the general eye
Or portraitures for special use designed 
As some might seem so aptly do they serve
To illustrate Nature book of rudiments 
That book upheld as with maternal care
When she would enter on her tender scheme
Of teaching comprehension with delight 
And mingling playful with pathetic thoughts
The surfaces of artificial life
And manners finely wrought the delicate race
Of colours lurking gleaming up and down
Through that state arras woven with silk and gold 
This wily interchange of snaky hues
Willingly or unwillingly revealed
I neither knew nor cared for and as such
Were wanting here I took what might be found
Of less elaborate fabric At this day 
I smile in many a mountain solitude
Conjuring up scenes as obsolete in freaks
Of character in points of wit as broad
As aught by wooden images performed
For entertainment of the gaping crowd 
At wake or fair And oftentimes do flit
Remembrances before me of old men 
Old humourists who have been long in their graves
And having almost in my mind put off
Their human names have into phantoms passed 
Of texture midway between life and books
I play the loiterer 'tis enough to note
That here in dwarf proportions were expressed
The limbs of the great world its eager strifes
Collaterally pourtrayed as in mock fight 
A tournament of blows some hardly dealt
Though short of mortal combat and whate'er
Might in this pageant be supposed to hit
An artless rustic notice this way less
More that way was not wasted upon me 
And yet the spectacle may well demand
A more substantial name no mimic show
Itself a living part of a live whole
A creek in the vast sea for all degrees
And shapes of spurious fame and short-lived praise 
Here sate in state and fed with daily alms
Retainers won away from solid good
And here was Labour his own bond-slave Hope
That never set the pains against the prize
Idleness halting with his weary clog 
And poor misguided Shame and witless Fear
And simple Pleasure foraging for Death
Honour misplaced and Dignity astray
Feuds factions flatteries enmity and guile
Murmuring submission and bald government 
The idol weak as the idolater
And Decency and Custom starving Truth
And blind Authority beating with his staff
The child that might have led him Emptiness
Followed as of good omen and meek Worth 
Left to herself unheard of and unknown
Of these and other kindred notices
I cannot say what portion is in truth
The naked recollection of that time
And what may rather have been called to life 
By after-meditation But delight
That in an easy temper lulled asleep
Is still with Innocence its own reward
This was not wanting Carelessly I roamed
As through a wide museum from whose stores 
A casual rarity is singled out
And has its brief perusal then gives way
To others all supplanted in their turn
Till 'mid this crowded neighbourhood of things
That are by nature most unneighbourly 
The head turns round and cannot right itself
And though an aching and a barren sense
Of gay confusion still be uppermost
With few wise longings and but little love
Yet to the memory something cleaves at last 
Whence profit may be drawn in times to come
Thus in submissive idleness my Friend
The labouring time of autumn winter spring
Eight months rolled pleasingly away the ninth
Came and returned me to my native hills
Bright was the summer noon when quickening steps
Followed each other till a dreary moor
Was crossed a bare ridge clomb upon whose top
Standing alone as from a rampart edge
I overlooked the bed of Windermere 
Like a vast river stretching in the sun
With exultation at my feet I saw
Lake islands promontories gleaming bays
A universe of Nature fairest forms
Proudly revealed with instantaneous burst 
Magnificent and beautiful and gay
I bounded down the hill shouting amain
For the old Ferryman to the shout the rocks
Replied and when the Charon of the flood
Had staid his oars and touched the jutting pier 
I did not step into the well-known boat
Without a cordial greeting Thence with speed
Up the familiar hill I took my way
Towards that sweet Valley where I had been reared
'Twas but a short hour walk ere veering round 
I saw the snow-white church upon her hill
Sit like a throned Lady sending out
A gracious look all over her domain
Yon azure smoke betrays the lurking town
With eager footsteps I advance and reach 
The cottage threshold where my journey closed
Glad welcome had I with some tears perhaps
From my old Dame so kind and motherly
While she perused me with a parent pride
The thoughts of gratitude shall fall like dew 
Upon thy grave good creature While my heart
Can beat never will I forget thy name
Heaven blessing be upon thee where thou liest
After thy innocent and busy stir
In narrow cares thy little daily growth 
Of calm enjoyments after eighty years
And more than eighty of untroubled life
Childless yet by the strangers to thy blood
Honoured with little less than filial love
What joy was mine to see thee once again 
Thee and thy dwelling and a crowd of things
About its narrow precincts all beloved
And many of them seeming yet my own
Why should I speak of what a thousand hearts
Have felt and every man alive can guess 
The rooms the court the garden were not left
Long unsaluted nor the sunny seat
Round the stone table under the dark pine
Friendly to studious or to festive hours
Nor that unruly child of mountain birth 
The famous brook who soon as he was boxed
Within our garden found himself at once
As if by trick insidious and unkind
Stripped of his voice and left to dimple down
Without an effort and without a will 
A channel paved by man officious care
I looked at him and smiled and smiled again
And in the press of twenty thousand thoughts
Ha quoth I pretty prisoner are you there
Well might sarcastic Fancy then have whispered 
An emblem here behold of thy own life
In its late course of even days with all
Their smooth enthralment but the heart was full
Too full for that reproach My aged Dame
Walked proudly at my side she guided me 
I willing nay nay wishing to be led
 The face of every neighbour whom I met
Was like a volume to me some were hailed
Upon the road some busy at their work
Unceremonious greetings interchanged 
With half the length of a long field between
Among my schoolfellows I scattered round
Like recognitions but with some constraint
Attended doubtless with a little pride
But with more shame for my habiliments 
The transformation wrought by gay attire
Not less delighted did I take my place
At our domestic table and dear Friend
In this endeavour simply to relate
A Poet history may I leave untold 
The thankfulness with which I laid me down
In my accustomed bed more welcome now
Perhaps than if it had been more desired
Or been more often thought of with regret
That lowly bed whence I had heard the wind 
Roar and the rain beat hard where I so oft
Had lain awake on summer nights to watch
The moon in splendour couched among the leaves
Of a tall ash that near our cottage stood
Had watched her with fixed eyes while to and fro 
In the dark summit of the waving tree
She rocked with every impulse of the breeze
Among the favourites whom it pleased me well
To see again was one by ancient right
Our inmate a rough terrier of the hills 
By birth and call of nature pre-ordained
To hunt the badger and unearth the fox
Among the impervious crags but having been
From youth our own adopted he had passed
Into a gentler service And when first 
The boyish spirit flagged and day by day
Along my veins I kindled with the stir
The fermentation and the vernal heat
Of poesy affecting private shades
Like a sick Lover then this dog was used 
To watch me an attendant and a friend
Obsequious to my steps early and late
Though often of such dilatory walk
Tired and uneasy at the halts I made
A hundred times when roving high and low 
I have been harassed with the toil of verse
Much pains and little progress and at once
Some lovely Image in the song rose up
Full-formed like Venus rising from the sea
Then have I darted forwards to let 
My hand upon his back with stormy joy
Caressing him again and yet again
And when at evening on the public way
I sauntered like a river murmuring
And talking to itself when all things 
Are still the creature trotted on before
Such was his custom but whene'er he met
A passenger approaching he would turn
To give me timely notice and straightway
Grateful for that admonishment I 
My voice composed my gait and with the air
And mien of one whose thoughts are free advanced
To give and take a greeting that might save
My name from piteous rumours such as wait
On men suspected to be crazed in brain 
Those walks well worthy to be prized and loved 
Regretted that word too was on my tongue
But they were richly laden with all good
And cannot be remembered but with thanks
And gratitude and perfect joy of heart 
Those walks in all their freshness now came back
Like a returning Spring When first I made
Once more the circuit of our little lake
If ever happiness hath lodged with man
That day consummate happiness was mine 
Wide-spreading steady calm contemplative
The sun was set or setting when I left
Our cottage door and evening soon brought on
A sober hour not winning or serene
For cold and raw the air was and untuned 
But as a face we love is sweetest then
When sorrow damps it or whatever look
It chance to wear is sweetest if the heart
Have fulness in herself even so with me
It fared that evening Gently did my soul 
Put off her veil and self-transmuted stood
Naked as in the presence of her God
While on I walked a comfort seemed to touch
A heart that had not been disconsolate
Strength came where weakness was not known to be 
At least not felt and restoration came
Like an intruder knocking at the door
Of unacknowledged weariness I took
The balance and with firm hand weighed myself
 Of that external scene which round me lay 
Little in this abstraction did I see
Remembered less but I had inward hopes
And swellings of the spirit was rapt and soothed
Conversed with promises had glimmering views
How life pervades the undecaying mind 
How the immortal soul with God-like power
Informs creates and thaws the deepest sleep
That time can lay upon her how on earth
Man if he do but live within the light
Of high endeavours daily spreads abroad 
His being armed with strength that cannot fail
Nor was there want of milder thoughts of love
Of innocence and holiday repose
And more than pastoral quiet 'mid the stir
Of boldest projects and a peaceful end 
At last or glorious by endurance won
Thus musing in a wood I sate me down
Alone continuing there to muse the slopes
And heights meanwhile were slowly overspread
With darkness and before a rippling breeze 
The long lake lengthened out its hoary line
And in the sheltered coppice where I sate
Around me from among the hazel leaves
Now here now there moved by the straggling wind
Came ever and anon a breath-like sound 
Quick as the pantings of the faithful dog
The off and on companion of my walk
And such at times believing them to be
I turned my head to look if he were there
Then into solemn thought I passed once more 
A freshness also found I at this time
In human Life the daily life of those
Whose occupations really I loved
The peaceful scene oft filled me with surprise
Changed like a garden in the heat of spring 
After an eight-days' absence For to omit
The things which were the same and yet appeared
Fair otherwise amid this rural solitude
A narrow Vale where each was known to all
'Twas not indifferent to a youthful mind 
To mark some sheltering bower or sunny nook
Where an old man had used to sit alone
Now vacant pale-faced babes whom I had left
In arms now rosy prattlers at the feet
Of a pleased grandame tottering up and down 
And growing girls whose beauty filched away
With all its pleasant promises was gone
To deck some slighted playmate homely cheek
Yes I had something of a subtler sense
And often looking round was moved to smiles 
Such as a delicate work of humour breeds
I read without design the opinions thoughts
Of those plain-living people now observed
With clearer knowledge with another eye
I saw the quiet woodman in the woods 
The shepherd roam the hills With new delight
This chiefly did I note my grey-haired Dame
Saw her go forth to church or other work
Of state equipped in monumental trim
Short velvet cloak her bonnet of the like 
A mantle such as Spanish Cavaliers
Wore in old time Her smooth domestic life
Affectionate without disquietude
Her talk her business pleased me and no less
Her clear though shallow stream of piety 
That ran on Sabbath days a fresher course
With thoughts unfelt till now I saw her read
Her Bible on hot Sunday afternoons
And loved the book when she had dropped asleep
And made of it a pillow for her head 
Nor less do I remember to have felt
Distinctly manifested at this time
A human-heartedness about my love
For objects hitherto the absolute wealth
Of my own private being and no more 
Which I had loved even as a blessed spirit
Or Angel if he were to dwell on earth
Might love in individual happiness
But now there opened on me other thoughts
Of change congratulation or regret 
A pensive feeling It spread far and wide
The trees the mountains shared it and the brooks
The stars of Heaven now seen in their old haunts 
White Sirius glittering o'er the southern crags
Orion with his belt and those fair Seven 
Acquaintances of every little child
And Jupiter my own beloved star
Whatever shadings of mortality
Whatever imports from the world of death
Had come among these objects heretofore 
Were in the main of mood less tender strong
Deep gloomy were they and severe the scatterings
Of awe or tremulous dread that had given way
In later youth to yearnings of a love
Enthusiastic to delight and hope 
As one who hangs down-bending from the side
Of a slow-moving boat upon the breast
Of a still water solacing himself
With such discoveries as his eye can make
Beneath him in the bottom of the deep 
Sees many beauteous sights weeds fishes flowers
Grots pebbles roots of trees and fancies more
Yet often is perplexed and cannot part
The shadow from the substance rocks and sky
Mountains and clouds reflected in the depth 
Of the clear flood from things which there abide
In their true dwelling now is crossed by gleam
Of his own image by a sun-beam now
And wavering motions sent he knows not whence
Impediments that make his task more sweet 
Such pleasant office have we long pursued
Incumbent o'er the surface of past time
With like success nor often have appeared
Shapes fairer or less doubtfully discerned
Than these to which the Tale indulgent Friend 
Would now direct thy notice Yet in spite
Of pleasure won and knowledge not withheld
There was an inner falling off I loved
Loved deeply all that had been loved before
More deeply even than ever but a swarm 
Of heady schemes jostling each other gawds
And feast and dance and public revelry
And sports and games too grateful in themselves
Yet in themselves less grateful I believe
Than as they were a badge glossy and fresh 
Of manliness and freedom all conspired
To lure my mind from firm habitual quest
Of feeding pleasures to depress the zeal
And damp those yearnings which had once been mine 
A wild unworldly-minded youth given up 
To his own eager thoughts It would demand
Some skill and longer time than may be spared
To paint these vanities and how they wrought
In haunts where they till now had been unknown
It seemed the very garments that I wore 
Preyed on my strength and stopped the quiet stream
Of self-forgetfulness Yes that heartless chase
Of trivial pleasures was a poor exchange
For books and nature at that early age
'Tis true some casual knowledge might be gained 
Of character or life but at that time
Of manners put to school I took small note
And all my deeper passions lay elsewhere
Far better had it been to exalt the mind
By solitary study to uphold 
Intense desire through meditative peace
And yet for chastisement of these regrets
The memory of one particular hour
Doth here rise up against me 'Mid a throng
Of maids and youths old men and matrons staid 
A medley of all tempers I had passed
The night in dancing gaiety and mirth
With din of instruments and shuffling feet
And glancing forms and tapers glittering
And unaimed prattle flying up and down 
Spirits upon the stretch and here and there
Slight shocks of young love-liking interspersed
Whose transient pleasure mounted to the head
And tingled through the veins Ere we retired
The cock had crowed and now the eastern sky 
Was kindling not unseen from humble copse
And open field through which the pathway wound
And homeward led my steps Magnificent
The morning rose in memorable pomp
Glorious as e'er I had beheld in front 
The sea lay laughing at a distance near
The solid mountains shone bright as the clouds
Grain-tinctured drenched in empyrean light
And in the meadows and the lower grounds
Was all the sweetness of a common dawn 
Dews vapours and the melody of birds
And labourers going forth to till the fields
Ah need I say dear Friend that to the brim
My heart was full I made no vows but vows
Were then made for me bond unknown to me 
Was given that I should be else sinning greatly
A dedicated Spirit On I walked
In thankful blessedness which yet survives
Strange rendezvous My mind was at that time
A parti-coloured show of grave and gay 
Solid and light short-sighted and profound
Of inconsiderate habits and sedate
Consorting in one mansion unreproved
The worth I knew of powers that I possessed
Though slighted and too oft misused Besides 
That summer swarming as it did with thoughts
Transient and idle lacked not intervals
When Folly from the frown of fleeting Time
Shrunk and the mind experienced in herself
Conformity as just as that of old 
To the end and written spirit of God works
Whether held forth in Nature or in Man
Through pregnant vision separate or conjoined
When from our better selves we have too long
Been parted by the hurrying world and droop 
Sick of its business of its pleasures tired
How gracious how benign is Solitude
How potent a mere image of her sway
Most potent when impressed upon the mind
With an appropriate human centre hermit 
Deep in the bosom of the wilderness
Votary in vast cathedral where no foot
Is treading where no other face is seen
Kneeling at prayers or watchman on the top
Of lighthouse beaten by Atlantic waves 
Or as the soul of that great Power is met
Sometimes embodied on a public road
When for the night deserted it assumes
A character of quiet more profound
Than pathless wastes Once when those summer months 
Were flown and autumn brought its annual show
Of oars with oars contending sails with sails
Upon Winander spacious breast it chanced
That after I had left a flower-decked room
Whose in-door pastime lighted up survived 
To a late hour and spirits overwrought
Were making night do penance for a day
Spent in a round of strenuous idleness 
My homeward course led up a long ascent
Where the road watery surface to the top 
Of that sharp rising glittered to the moon
And bore the semblance of another stream
Stealing with silent lapse to join the brook
That murmured in the vale All else was still
No living thing appeared in earth or air 
And save the flowing water peaceful voice
Sound there was none but lo an uncouth shape
Shown by a sudden turning of the road
So near that slipping back into the shade
Of a thick hawthorn I could mark him well 
Myself unseen He was of stature tall
A span above man common measure tall
Stiff lank and upright a more meagre man
Was never seen before by night or day
Long were his arms pallid his hands his mouth 
Looked ghastly in the moonlight from behind
A mile-stone propped him I could also ken
That he was clothed in military garb
Though faded yet entire Companionless
No dog attending by no staff sustained 
He stood and in his very dress appeared
A desolation a simplicity
To which the trappings of a gaudy world
Make a strange back-ground From his lips ere long
Issued low muttered sounds as if of pain 
Or some uneasy thought yet still his form
Kept the same awful steadiness at his feet
His shadow lay and moved not From self-blame
Not wholly free I watched him thus at length
Subduing my heart specious cowardice 
I left the shady nook where I had stood
And hailed him Slowly from his resting-place
He rose and with a lean and wasted arm
In measured gesture lifted to his head
Returned my salutation then resumed 
His station as before and when I asked
His history the veteran in reply
Was neither slow nor eager but unmoved
And with a quiet uncomplaining voice
A stately air of mild indifference 
He told in few plain words a soldier tale 
That in the Tropic Islands he had served
Whence he had landed scarcely three weeks past
That on his landing he had been dismissed
And now was travelling towards his native home 
This heard I said in pity Come with me
He stooped and straightway from the ground took up
An oaken staff by me yet unobserved 
A staff which must have dropt from his slack hand
And lay till now neglected in the grass 
Though weak his step and cautious he appeared
To travel without pain and I beheld
With an astonishment but ill suppressed
His ghostly figure moving at my side
Nor could I while we journeyed thus forbear 
To turn from present hardships to the past
And speak of war battle and pestilence
Sprinkling this talk with questions better spared
On what he might himself have seen or felt
He all the while was in demeanour calm 
Concise in answer solemn and sublime
He might have seemed but that in all he said
There was a strange half-absence as of one
Knowing too well the importance of his theme
But feeling it no longer Our discourse 
Soon ended and together on we passed
In silence through a wood gloomy and still
Up-turning then along an open field
We reached a cottage At the door I knocked
And earnestly to charitable care 
Commended him as a poor friendless man
Belated and by sickness overcome
Assured that now the traveller would repose
In comfort I entreated that henceforth
He would not linger in the public ways 
But ask for timely furtherance and help
Such as his state required At this reproof
With the same ghastly mildness in his look
He said My trust is in the God of Heaven
And in the eye of him who passes me 
The cottage door was speedily unbarred
And now the soldier touched his hat once more
With his lean hand and in a faltering voice
Whose tone bespake reviving interests
Till then unfelt he thanked me I returned 
The farewell blessing of the patient man
And so we parted Back I cast a look
And lingered near the door a little space
Then sought with quiet heart my distant home
