Renounces, till among the scattered clouds move 1Ο (By transit not unlike man's frequent doom) The Wanderer lost in more determined gloom. 1846. XVI. WHERE lies the truth? has Man, in wisdom's creed, A pitiable doom; for respite brief 5 A care more anxious, or a heavier grief? Spring from their nests to bid the Sun good morrow? They mount for rapture as their songs proclaim Warbled in hearing both of earth and sky; 10 But o'er the contrast wherefore heave a sigh? Like those aspirants let us soar—our aim, Through life's worst trials, whether shocks or snares, A happier, brighter, purer Heaven than theirs. 1846. POEMS, COMPOSED OR SUGGESTED DURING A TOUR, IN THE SUMMER OF 1833. Having been prevented by the lateness of the season, in 1831, from visiting Staffa and Iona, the author made these the principal objects of a short tour in the summer of 1833, of which the following series of poems is a Memorial. The course pursued was down the Cumberland river Derwent, and to Whitehaven; thence (by the Isle of Man, where a few days were passed) up the Frith of Clyde to Greenock, then to Oban, Staffa, Iona; and back towards England, by Loch Awe, Inverary, Loch Goil-head, Greenock, and through parts of Renfrewshire, Ayrshire, and Dumfries-shire, to Carlisle, and thence up the river Eden, and homewards by Ullswater. I. ADIEU, Rydalian Laurels! that have grown All seasons through, is humbly pleased to braid Ground-flowers, beneath your guardianship, self sown. Farewell! no Minstrels now with harp newstrung For summer wandering quit their household bowers; Yet not for this wants Poesy a tongue To cheer the Itinerant on whom she pours ΙΟ II. WHY should the Enthusiast, journeying through this Isle, Repine as if his hour were come too late? 'Mid fruitful fields that ring with jocund toil, 5 And pleasure-grounds where Taste, refined Comate Of Truth and Beauty, strives to imitate, If that be reverenced which ought to last. III. THEY called Thee MERRY ENGLAND, in old time; A happy people won for thee that name With envy heard in many a distant clime; And, spite of change, for me thou keep'st the same Endearing title, a responsive chime 5 To the heart's fond belief; though some there are Whose sterner judgments deem that word a snare For inattentive Fancy, like the lime 10 Which foolish birds are caught with. Can, I ask, IV. TO THE RIVER GRETA, NEAR KESWICK. GRETA, what fearful listening! when huge stones 5 Rumble along thy bed, block after block : Seats of glad instinct and love's carolling, V. TO THE RIVER DERWENT. 10 AMONG the mountains were we nursed, loved Stream! Thou near the eagle's nest-within brief sail, I, of his bold wing floating on the gale, Where thy deep voice could lull me! Faint the beam Of human life when first allowed to gleam 5 On mortal notice.-Glory of the vale, Such thy meek outset, with a crown, though frail, Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam Of thy soft breath!-Less vivid wreath entwined Nemæan victor's brow; less bright was worn, 10 Meed of some Roman chief-in triumph borne With captives chained; and shedding from his car The sunset splendours of a finished war 1819. (?) VI. IN SIGHT OF THE TOWN OF COCKERMOUTH. (Where the Author was born, and his Father's remains are laid.) A POINT of life between my Parents' dust, 5 And meekly bear the ills which bear I must: And You, my Offspring! that do still remain, Yet may outstrip me in the appointed race, 10 If e'er, through fault of mine, in mutual pain We breathed together for a moment's space, The wrong, by love provoked, let love arraign, And only love keep in your hearts a place. |