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Of mortal power unquestionably sprung) Whose hoary diadem of pendent rocks

"If, such as now he is, he might remain ! Ah! what avails imagination high

Confines the shrill-voiced whirlwind, round and Or question deep? what profits all that earth,

round

Eddying within its vast circumference,

On Sarum's naked plain; than pyramid Of Egypt, unsubverted, undissolved;

Or Syria's marble ruins towering high Above the sandy desert, in the light

Of sun or moon,-forgive me, if I say

Or heaven's blue vault, is suffer'd to put forth

Of impulse or allurement, for the soul

To quit the beaten track of life, and soar
Far as she finds a yielding element

In past or future; far as she can go

Through time or space; if neither in the one, Nor in the other region, nor in aught

That an appearance which hath raised your minds That fancy, dreaming o'er the map of things,

To an exalted pitch (the self-same cause
Different effect producing) is for me

Fraught rather with depression than delight,
Though shame it were, could I not look around,
By the reflection of your pleasure, pleased.
Yet happier in my judgment, e'en than you
With your bright transports fairly may be deem❜d,
The wandering herbalist,-who, clear alike
From vain, and, that worse evil, vexing thoughts,
Casts, if he ever chance to enter here,
Upon these uncouth forms a slight regard
Of transitory interest, and peeps round
For some rare floweret of the hills, or plant
Of craggy fountain; what he hopes for wins,
Or learns, at least, that 'tis not to be won:
Then, keen and eager, as a fine-nosed hound
By soul-engrossing instinct driven along
Through wood or open field, the harmless man
Departs, intent upon his onward quest!
Nor is that fellow wanderer, so deem I,
Less to be envied, (you may trace him oft
By scars which his activity has left

Hath placed beyond these penetrable bounds,
Words of assurance can be heard; if nowhere

A habitation, for consummate good,
Nor for progressive virtue, by the search
Can be attain'd,-a better sanctuary
From doubt and sorrow, than the senseless grave ?”
"Is this," the gray-hair'd wanderer mildly said,
"The voice, which we so lately overheard,
To that same child addressing tenderly
The consolations of a hopeful mind?
'His body is at rest, his soul in heaven.'
These were your words; and, verily, methinks
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop
Than when we soar."

The other, not displeased,
Promptly replied-"My notion is the same.
And I, without reluctance, could decline

All act of inquisition whence we rise,

And what, when breath hath ceased, we may be

come.

Here are we, in a bright and breathing world-
Our origin, what matters it? In lack

Beside our roads and pathways, though, thank Hea- Of worthier explanation, say at once

ven!

This covert nook reports not of his hand,)

He who with pocket hammer smites the edge
Of luckless rock or prominent stone, disguised
In weather stains or crusted o'er by nature
With her first growths-detaching by the stroke
A chip or splinter-to resolve his doubts;
And, with that ready answer satisfied,
The substance classes by some barbarous name,
And hurries on; or from the fragments picks
His specimen, if haply intervein'd

With sparkling mineral, or should crystal cube
Lurk in its cells-and thinks himself enrich'd,
Wealthier, and doubtless wiser, than before!
Intrusted safely each to his pursuit,
Earnest alike, let both from hill to hill
Range; if it please them, speed from clime to clime;
The mind is full-no pain is in their sport."

Then," said I, interposing, "one is near,
Who cannot but possess in your esteem
Place worthier still of envy. May I name,
Without offence, that fair-faced cottage boy?
Dame nature's pupil of the lowest form,
Youngest apprentice in the school of art!
Him, as we enter'd from the open glen,
You might have noticed busily engaged,
Heart, soul, and hands,-in mending the defects
Left in the fabric of a leaky dam
Raised for enabling this penurious stream
To turn a slender mill (that new-made plaything)
For his delight-the happiest he of all!"

"Far happiest," answer'd the desponding man,

With the American (a thought which suits

The place where now we stand) that certain men
Leapt out together from a rocky cave;

And these were the first parents of mankind:
Or, if a different image be recall'd

By the warm sunshine, and the jocund voice
Of insects-chirping out their careless lives
On these soft beds of thyme-besprinkled turf,
Choose, with the gay Athenian, a conceit

As sound-blithe race! whose mantles were bedeck'd

With golden grasshoppers, in sign that they
Had sprung, like those bright creatures, from the

soil

Whereon their endless generations dwelt.

But stop these theoretic fancies jar
On serious minds: then, as the Hindoos draw
Their holy Ganges from a skyey fount,
E'en so deduce the stream of human life,
From seats of power divine; and hope, or trust,
That our existence winds her stately course
Beneath the sun, like Ganges, to make part
Of a living ocean; or, to sink ingulf'd,
Like Niger in impenetrable sands

And utter darkness: thought which may be faced,
Though comfortless! Not of myself I speak;
Such acquiescence neither doth imply,
In me, a meekly bending spirit-sooth'd
By natural piety; nor a lofty mind,
By philosophic discipline prepared
For calm subjection to acknowledged law;
Pleased to have been, contented not to be.

Such palms I boast not; no! to me, who find,
Re ewing my past way, much to condemn,
Little to praise, and nothing to regret,
(Save some remembrances of dream-like joys
That scarcely seem to have belong'd to me,)
If I must take my choice between the pair
That rule alternately the weary hours,
Night is than day more acceptable; sleep
Doth, in my estimate of good, appear

A better state than waking; death than sleep:
Feelingly sweet is stillness after storm,
Though under covert of the wormy ground!
"Yet be it said, in justice to myself,
That in more genial times, when I was free
To explore the destiny of human kind,
(Not as an intellectual game pursued
With curious subtilty, from wish to cheat
Irksome sensations; but by love of truth
Urged on, or haply by intense delight

In feeding thought, wherever thought could feed,)
I did not rank with those (too dull or nice,
For to my judgment such they then appear'd,
Or too aspiring, thankless at the best)
Who, in this frame of human life, perceive
An object whereunto their souls are tied
In discontented wedlock; nor did e'er,

In framing models to improve the scheme
Of man's existence, and recast the world,
Why should not grave philosophy be styled
Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock,
A dreamer yet more spiritless and dull ?
Yes, shall the fine immunities she boasts
Establish sounder titles of esteem

For her, who (all too timid and reserved
For onset, for resistance too inert,
Too weak for suffering, and for hope too tame)
Placed among flowery gardens, curtain'd round
With world-excluding groves, the brotherhood
Of soft epicureans, taught-if they

The ends of being would secure, and win
The crown of wisdom-to yield up their souls
To a voluptuous unconcern, preferring
Tranquillity to all things.

Or is she,"

I cried, "more worthy of regard, the power, Who, for the sake of sterner quiet, closed The stoic's heart against the vain approach Of admiration, and all sense of joy ?"

His countenance gave notice that my zeal Accorded little with his present mind;

I ceased, and he resumed. "Ah! gentle sir,
Slight, if you will, the means: but spare to slight
The end of those, who did, by system, rank,

From me, those dark, impervious shades, that hang As the prime object of a wise man's aim,

Upon the region whither we are bound, Exclude a power to enjoy the vital beams,

Of present sunshine. Deities that float

On wings, angelic spirits, I could muse

O'er what from eldest time we have been told
Of your bright forms and glorious faculties,
And with the imagination be content.
Not wishing more; repining not to tread
The little sinuous path of earthly care,
By flowers embellish'd, and by springs refresh'd.
Blow winds of autumn!-let your chilling breath
Take the live herbage from the mead, and strip
The shady forest of its green attire,-
And let the bursting clouds to fury rouse
The gentle brooks! Your desolating sway,'
Thus I exclaim'd, 'no sadness sheds on me,
And no disorder in your rage I find.
What dignity, what beauty, in this change
From mild to angry, and from sad to gay,
Alternate and revolving! How benign,
How rich in animation and delight,
How bountiful these elements-compared
With aught, as more desirable and fair
Devised by fancy for the golden age;
Or the perpetual warbling that prevails
In Arcady, beneath unalter'd skies,

Through the long year in constant quiet bound,
Night hush'd as night, and day serene as day!'
But why this tedious record? Age, we know,
Is garrulous; and solitude is apt
T'anticipate the privilege of age.
From far ye come; and surely with a hope
Of better entertainment-let us hence !"

Loath to forsake the spot, and still more loath
To be diverted from our present theme,
I said, "My thoughts agreeing, sir, with yours,
Would push this censure farther; for, if smiles
Of scornful pity be the just reward
of poesy, thus courteously employ'd

Security from shock of accident,

Release from fear; and cherish'd peaceful days
For their own sakes, as mortal life's chief good,
And only reasonable felicity.

What motive drew, what impulse, I would ask,
Through a long course of later ages, drove
The hermit to his cell in forest wide;
Or what detain'd him, till his closing eyes
Took their last farewell of the sun and stars,
Fast anchor'd in the desert? Not alone
Dread of the persecuting sword-remorse.
Wrongs unredress'd, or insults unavenged
And unavengeable, defeated pride,
Prosperity subverted, maddening want,
Friendship betray'd, affection unreturn'd,
Love with despair, or grief in agony;
Not always from intolerable pangs

He fled; but, compass'd round by pleasure, sigh'd
For independent happiness: craving peace,
The central feeling of all happiness,
Not as a refuge from distress or pain,
A breathing-time, vacation, or a truce,
But for its absolute self; a life of peace,
Stability without regret or fear;

That hath been, is, and shall be evermore!
Such the reward he sought; and wore out life,
There, where on few external things his heart
Was set, and those his own; or, if not his,
Subsisting under nature's steadfast law.

"What other yearning was the master tie
Of the monastic brotherhood, upon rock
Aerial, or in green secluded vale,
One after one, collected from afar
An undissolving fellowship ?-What but this,
The universal instinct of repose,
The longing for confirm'd tranquillity,
Inward and outward; humble, yet sublime:
The life where hope and memory are as one;
Earth quiet and unchanged; the human soul

Consistent in self-rule; and heaven reveal'd
To meditation in that quietness!

Such was their scheme:-thrice happy he who gain'd
The end proposed ! And, though the same were

miss'd

By multitudes, perhaps obtain❜d by none,-
They, for the attempt, and for the pains employ'd,
Do, in my present censure, stand redeem'd
From the unqualified disdain, that once
Would have been cast upon them, by my voice
Delivering her decisions from the seat
Of forward youth: that scruples not to solve
Doubts, and determine questions, by the rules
Of inexperienced judgment, ever prone
To overweening faith; and is inflamed,
By courage, to demand from real life

The test of act and suffering-to provoke
Hostility, how dreadful when it comes,
Whether affliction be the foe, or guilt!

"A child of earth, I rested, in that stage

Of my past course to which these thoughts advert,
Upon earth's native energies; forgetting
That mine was a condition which required
Nor energy, nor fortitude-a calm
Without vicissitude; which, if the like
Had been presented to my view elsewhere,
I might have e'en been tempted to despise.
But that which was serene was also bright;
Enliven'd happiness with joy o'erflowing,
With joy, and-O! that memory should survive
To speak the word-with rapture! Nature's boon,
Life's genuine inspiration, happiness
Above what rules can teach, or fancy feign;
Abused, as all possessions are abused
That are not prized according to their worth.
And yet, what worth? what good is given to men,
More solid than the gilded clouds of heaven?
What joy more lasting than a vernal flower?
None! 'tis the general plaint of human kind
In solitude, and mutually address'd
From each to all, for wisdom's sake. This truth
The priest announces from his holy seat:
And, crown'd with garlands in the summer grove,
The poet fits it to his pensive lyre.
Yet, ere that final resting place be gain'd,
Sharp contradictions may arise by doom
Of this same life, compelling us to grieve
That the prosperities of love and joy
Should be permitted, ofttimes, to endure
So long, and be at once cast down for ever.
D! tremble, ye, to whom hath been assign'd
A course of days composing happy months,
And they as happy years; the present still
So like the past, and both so firm a pledge
Of a congenial future, that the wheels
Of pleasure move without the aid of hope:
For mutability is nature's bane;

And slighted hope will be avenged: and, when
Ye need her favours, ye shall find her not;
But in her stead-fear-doubt-and agony !"
This was the bitter language of the heart:
But, while he spake, look, gesture, tone of voice,
Though discomposed and vehement, were such
As skill and graceful nature might suggest
To a proficient of the tragic scene
Standing before the multitude, beset

With dark events. Desirous to divert
Or stem the current of the speaker's thoughts,
We signified a wish to leave that place
Of stillness and close privacy, a nook
That seem'd for self-examination made,
Or, for confession, in the sinner's need,
Hidden from all men's view. To our attempt
He yielded not; but pointing to a slope
Of mossy turf defended from the sun,
And, on that couch inviting us to rest,
Full on that tender-hearted man he turn'd
A serious eye, and thus his speech renew'd.
"You never saw, your eyes did never look
On the bright form of her whom once I loved:
Her silver voice was heard upon the earth,
A sound unknown to you; else, honour'd friend!
Your heart had borne a pitiable share

Of what I suffer'd, when I wept that loss,
And suffer now, not seldom, from the thought
That I remember, and can weep no more.
Stripp'd as I am of all the golden fruit
Of self-esteem; and by the cutting blasts
Of self-reproach familiarly assail'd;

I would not yet be of such wintry bareness
But that some leaf of your regard should hang
Upon my naked branches; lively thoughts
Give birth, full often, to unguarded words.
I grieve that, in your presence, from my tongue
Too much of frailty hath already dropp'd;
But that too much demands still more.

"You know

Revered compatriot; and to you, kind sir, (Not to be deem'd a stranger, as you come Following the guidance of these welcome feet To our secluded vale,) it may be told, That my demerits did not sue in vain To one on whose mild radiance many gazed With hope, and all with pleasure. This fair bride, In the devotedness of youthful love, Preferring me to parents, and the choir Of gay companions, to the natal roof, And all known places and familiar sights, (Resign'd with sadness gently weighing down Her trembling expectations, but no more Than did to her due honour, and to me Yielded, that day, a confidence sublime In what I had to build upon,) this bride, Young, modest, meek, and beautiful, I led To a low cottage in a sunny bay, Where the salt sea innoculously breaks, And the sea breeze as innocently breathes, On Devon's leafy shores; a shelter'd hold, In a soft clime encouraging the soil To a luxuriant bounty! As our steps Approach the embower'd abode-our chosen seal See, rooted in the earth, her kindly bed, The unendanger'd myrtle, deck'd with flowers, Before the threshold stands to welcome us! While in the flowering myrtle's neighbourhood, Not overlook'd but courting no regard, Those native plants, the holly and the yew, Gave modest intimation to the mind How willingly their aid they would unite With the green myrtle, to endear the hours Of winter, and protect that pleasant place. Wild were the walks upon those lonely downs

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Track leading into track, how mark'd, how worn
Into bright verdure, between fern and gorse
Winding away its never-ending line

On their smooth surface, evidence was none:
But, there, lay open to our daily haunt,
A range of unappropriated earth,

Where youth's ambitious feet might move at large;
Whence, unmolested wanderers, we beheld
The shining giver of the day diffuse

His brightness o'er a tract of sea and land
Gay as our spirits, free as our desires,

As our enjoyments, boundless. From those heights
We dropp'd, at pleasure, into sylvan combs;
Where arbours of impenetrable shade,
And mossy seats, detain'd us side by side,
With hearts at ease, and knowledge in our hearts
"That all the grove and all the day was ours.'
"But nature call'd my partner to resign
Her share in the pure freedom of that life,
Enjoy'd by us in common. To my hope,
To my heart's wish, my tender mate became
The thankful captive of maternal bonds;
And those wild paths were left to me alone.
There could I meditate on follies past;
And, like a weary voyager escaped
From risk and hardship, inwardly retrace
A course of vain delights and thoughtless guilt,
And self-indulgence-without shame pursued.
There, undisturb'd, could think of, and could thank
Her-whose submissive spirit was to me
Rule and restraint-my guardian-shall I say
That earthly providence, whose guiding love
Within a port of rest had lodged me safe;
Safe from temptation, and from danger far?
Strains follow'd of acknowledgment address'd
To an Authority enthroned above

On these two pillars rested as in air
Our solitude.

"It soothes me to perceive,

Your courtesy withholds not from my words
Attentive audience. But, O! gentle friends,
As times of quiet and unbroken peace,
Though, for a nation, times of blessedness,
Give back faint echoes from the historian's page!
So, in th' imperfect sounds of this discourse,
Depress'd I hear, how faithless is the voice
Which those most blissful days reverberate.
What special record can, or need, be given
To rules and habits, whereby much was done,
But all within the sphere of little things,
Of humble, though, to us, important cares,
And precious interests? Smoothly did our life
Advance, not swerving from the path prescribed:
Her annual, her diurnal round alike
Maintain'd with faithful care. And you divine
The worst effects that our condition saw
If you imagine changes slowly wrought,
And in their progress imperceptible;
Not wish'd for, sometimes noticed with a sigh,
(Whate'er of good or lovely they might bring,)
Sighs of regret, for the familiar good,
And loveliness endear'd-which they removed.
"Seven years of occupation undisturb'd
Establish'd seemingly a right to hold
That happiness: and use and habit gave
To what an alien spirit had acquired
A patrimonial sanctity. And thus,
With thoughts and wishes bounded to this world,
I lived and breathed; most grateful, if t' enjoy
Without repining or desire for more,

For different lot, or change to higher sphere
(Only except some impulses of pride

The reach of sight: from whom, as from their With no determined object, though upheld

source,

Proceed all visible ministers of good

That walk the earth-Father of heaven and earth,
Father, and King, and Judge, adored and fear'd!
These acts of mind, and memory, and heart,
And spirit-interrupted and relieved
By observations transient as the glance
Of flying sunbeams, or to the outward form
Cleaving with power inherent and intense,
As the mute insect fix'd upon the plant

By theories with suitable support)
Most grateful, if in such wise to enjoy
Be proof of gratitude for what we have;
Else, I allow, most thankless. But, at once,
From some dark seat of fatal power was urged
A claim that shatter'd all. Our blooming girl,
Caught in the gripe of death, with such grief time
To struggle in as scarcely would allow

Her cheek to change its colour, was convey'd
From us to regions inaccessible;

On whose soft leaves it hangs, and from whose Where height or depth, admits not the approach

cup

Draws imperceptibly its nourishment-

Endear'd my wanderings; and the mother's kiss
And infant's smile awaited my return.
"In privacy we dwelt-a wedded pair-
Companions daily, often all day long:
Not placed by fortune within easy reach
Of various intercourse, nor wishing aught
Beyond the allowance of our own fireside,
The twain within our happy cottage born,
Inmates, and heirs of our united love;
Graced mutually by difference of sex,
By the endearing names of nature bound,
And with no wider interval of time

Between their several births than served for one

To establish something of a leader's sway;
Yet left them join'd by sympathy in age;
Equals in pleasure, fellows in pursuit.

Of living man, though longing to pursue.
With e'en as brief a warning-and how soon,
With what short interval of time between,

I tremble yet to think of--our last prop,
Our happy life's only remaining stay-
The brother follow'd; and was seen no more!
"Calm as a frozen lake when ruthless winds
Blow fiercely, agitating earth and sky,
The mother now remain'd; as if in her,
Who to the lowest region of the soul,
Had been erewhile unsettled and disturb'd,
This second visitation had no power
To shake; but only to bind up and seal;
And to establish thankfulness of heart
In Heaven's determinations, ever just.
The eminence on which her spirit stood,
Mine was unable to attain. Immense
The space that sever'd us! But, as the sight

Communicates with heaven's ethereal orbs
Incalculably distant; so, I felt

That consolation may descend from far
(And that is intercourse and union, too,)
While, overcome with speechless gratitude,
And with a holier love inspired, I look'd
On her at once superior to my woes
And partner of my loss. O heavy change!
Dimness o'er this clear luminary crept
Insensibly; th' immortal and divine
Yielded to mortal reflux; her pure glory,
As from the pinnacle of worldly state
Wretched ambition drops astounded, fell
Into a gulf obscure of silent grief,

And keen heart anguish-of itself ashamed,
Yet obstinately cherishing itself;
And, so consumed, she melted from my arms,
And left me, on this earth, disconsolate.

"What follow'd cannot be review'd in thought;
Much less, retraced in words. If she, of life
Blameless, so intimate with love and joy
And all the tender motions of the soul,
Had been supplanted, could I hope to stand-
Infirm, dependent, and now destitute?

I call'd on dreams and visions, to disclose

My melancholy voice the chorus join'd;
Be joyful all ye nations, in all lands,
Ye that are capable of joy be glad!
Henceforth, whate'er is wanting to yourselves
In others ye shall promptly find; and all
Enrich'd by mutual and reflected wealth,
Shall with one heart honour their common kind.'
"Thus was I reconverted to the world;
Society became my glittering bride,
And airy hopes my children. From the depths
Of natural passion, seemingly escaped,
My soul diffused herself in wide embrace.
Of institutions, and the forms of things;
As they exist in mutable array,

Upon life's surface. What, though in my veins
There flow'd no Gallic blood, nor had I breathed
The air of France, not less than Gallic zeal
Kindled and burnt among the sapless twigs
Of my exhausted heart. If busy men
In sober conclave met, to weave a web
Of amity, whose living threads should stretch
Beyond the seas, and to the farthest pole,
There did I sit, assisting. If, with noise
And acclamations, crowds in open air
Express'd the tumult of their minds, my voice
The powers of song

That which is veil'd from waking thought; con- There mingled, heard or not.

jured

Eternity, as men constrain a ghost

T' appear and answer; to the grave I spake
Imploringly; look'd up, and ask'd the heavens
If angels traversed their cerulean floors,
If fix'd or wandering star could tidings yield
Of the departed spirit-what abode
It occupies-what consciousness retains

Of former loves and interests. Then my soul
Turn'd inward, to examine of what stuff
Time's fetters are composed; and life was put
To inquisition, long and profitless!

By pain of heart, now check'd, and now impell'd-
Th' intellectual power, through words and things,
Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!
And from those transports, and these toils abstruse,
Some trace am I enabled to retain
Of time, else lost; existing unto me

Only by records in myself not found.

I left not uninvoked; and, in still groves,
Where mild enthusiasts tuned a pensive lay
Of thanks and expectation, in accord
With their belief, I sang saturnian rule
Return'd,-a progeny of golden years
Permitted to descend, and bless mankind.
With promises the Hebrew Scriptures teem:
I felt the invitation; and resumed
A long suspended office in the house
Of public worship, where, the glowing phrase
Of ancient inspiration serving me,

I promised also,-with undaunted trust
Foretold, and added prayer to prophecy;
The admiration winning of the crowd;
The help desiring of the pure devout.

"Scorn and contempt forbid me to proceed!
But history, time's slavish scribe, will tell
How rapidly the zealots of the cause
Disbanded, or in hostile ranks appear'd:

"From that abstraction I was roused, and how? Some, tired of honest service; these, outdone,

E'en as a thoughtful shepherd by a flash
Of lightning startled in a gloomy cave

Of these wild hills. For, lo! the dread Bastile,
With all the chambers in its horrid towers,
Fell to the ground: by violence o'erthrown
Of indignation; and with shouts that drown'd
The crash it made in falling! From the wreck
A golden palace rose, or seem'd to rise
'Th' appointed seat of equitable law,
And mild, paternal sway. The potent shock
I felt the transformation I perceived,
As marvellously seized as in that moment
When from the blind mist issuing, I beheld
Glory-beyond all glory ever seen,
Confusion infinite of heaven and earth,
Dazzling the soul. Meanwhile, prophetic harps
In every grove were ringing. War shall cease;
Did ye not hear that conquest is abjured?

Disgusted, therefore, or appall'd, by aims

Of fiercer zealots; so confusion reign'd,
And the more faithful were compell'd t' exclaim,
As Brutus did to virtue, Liberty,

I worshipp'd thee, and find thee but a shade!'
"Such recantation had for me no charm,
Nor would I bend to it; who should have grieved
At aught, however fair, that bore the mien
Of a conclusion, or catastrophe.

Why then conceal, that, when the simply good
In timid selfishness withdrew, I sought
Otner support, not scrupulous whence it came
And, by what compromise it stood, not nice?
Enough if notions seem'd to be high pitch'd,
And qualities determined. Among men
So character'd did I maintain a strife
Hopeless, and still more hopeless every hour;
But, in the process, I began to feel

Bring garlands, bring forth choicest flowers, to deck That, if th' emancipation of the world

The tree of liberty.' My heart rebounded;

Were miss'd, I should at least secure my owŁ

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