Through It have won a passage to thy heart;
Grant me thy love, I crave no other fee!

XL.

TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D., MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL,

After the perusal of his Theophilus Anglicanus, recently published.

ENLIGHTENED Teacher, gladly from thy hand
Have I received this proof of pains bestowed
By thee to guide thy Pupils on the road
That, in our native isle, and every land,

The Church, when trusting in divine command
And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod:

may

0 these lessons be with profit scanned
To thy heart's wish, thy labor blest by God!

So the bright faces of the
Shall look more bright,

young and

gay

the happy, happier still;

Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play,
Motions of thought which elevate the will,
And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill
Points heavenward, indicate the end and way.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 11, 1843.

XLI.

TO THE PLANET VENUS,

Upon its approximation (as an Evening Star) to the Earth, Jan. 1838.

WHAT strong allurement draws, what spirit guides, Thee, Vesper! brightening still, as if the nearer

Thou com'st to man's abode the spot grew dearer Night after night? True is it Nature hides

Her treasures less and less. Man now presides In power, where once he trembled in his weakness; Science advances with gigantic strides ;

But are we aught enriched in love and meekness? Aught dost thou see, bright Star! of pure and wise More than in humbler times graced human story; That makes our hearts more apt to sympathize With heaven, our souls more fit for future glory, When earth shall vanish from our closing eyes, Ere we lie down in our last dormitory?

XLII.

WANSFELL!* this Household has a favored lot, Living with liberty on thee to gaze,

To watch while Morn first crowns thee with her

rays,

Or when along thy breast serenely float
Evening's angelic clouds. Yet ne'er a note
Hath sounded (shame upon the Bard!) thy praise
For all that thou, as if from heaven, hast brought
Of glory lavished on our quiet days.

Bountiful Son of Earth! when we are gone
From every object dear to mortal sight,
As soon we shall be, may these words attest
How oft, to elevate our spirits, shone

*The Hill that rises to the southeast, above Ambleside.

Thy visionary majesties of light,

How in thy pensive glooms our hearts found rest.

Dec. 24, 1842.

XLIII.

WHILE beams of orient light shoot wide and high, Deep in the vale a little rural Town*

Breathes forth a cloud-like creature of its own,
That mounts not toward the radiant morning sky,
But, with a less ambitious sympathy,

Hangs o'er its Parent waking to the cares,
Troubles, and toils that every day prepares.
So Fancy, to the musing Poet's eye,

Endears that Lingerer. And how blest her sway
(Like influence never may my soul reject)
If the calm Heaven, now to its zenith decked
With glorious forms in numberless array,

To the lone shepherd on the hills disclose
Gleams from a world in which the saints repose.
Jan. 1, 1843.

XLIV.

In my mind's eye a Temple, like a cloud
Slowly surmounting some invidious hill

Rose out of darkness: the bright Work stood still;
And might of its own beauty have been proud,

* Ambleside.

But it was fashioned and to God was vowed
By Virtues that diffused, in every part,
Spirit divine through forms of human art:

Faith had her arch, — her arch, when winds blow

loud,

Into the consciousness of safety thrilled;

And Love her towers of dread foundation laid Under the grave of things; Hope had her spire Star-high, and pointing still to something higher: Trembling I gazed, but heard a voice, it said, "Hell-gates are powerless Phantoms when we build."

XLV.

ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY.

Is then no nook of English ground secure
From rash assault?* Schemes of retirement sown
In youth, and 'mid the busy world kept pure
As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown,
Must perish; - how can they this blight endure?

*The degree and kind of attachment which many of the yeomanry feel to their small inheritances can scarcely be overrated. Near the house of one of them stands a magnificent tree, which a neighbor of the owner advised him to fell for profit's sake. "Fell it!" exclaimed the yeoman, "I had rather fall on my knees and worship it." It happens, I believe, that the intended railway would pass through this little property, and I hope that an apology for the answer will not be thought necessary by one who enters into the strength of the feeling.

And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
Who scorns a false utilitarian lure

'Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head
Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance:
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,

Speak, passing winds; ye torrents, with your strong
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.
October 12th, 1844.

XLVI.

PROUD were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old,
Your patriot sons, to stem invasive war,

Intrenched your brows; ye gloried in each scar:
Now, for your shame, a Power, the Thirst of Gold,
That rules o'er Britain like a baneful star,
Wills that your peace, your beauty, shall be sold,
And clear way made for her triumphal car
Through the beloved retreats your arms enfold!
Heard YE that Whistle? As her long-linked Train
Swept onwards, did the vision cross your view?
Yes, ye were startled ; — and, in balance true
Weighing the mischief with the promised gain,
Mountains, and Vales, and Floods, I call on you
To share the passion of a just disdain.