A violet by a mossy stone She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, O! The difference to me! II I travell❜d among unknown men 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! Among thy mountains did I feel And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd The bowers where Lucy play'd; And thine too is the last green field That Lucy's eyes survey'd. III Three years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower On earth was never sown: This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make 'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, To kindle or restrain. 'She shall be sportive as the fawn And her's shall be the breathing balm, Of mute insensate things. 'The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see E'en in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form By silent sympathy. 'The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. 'And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give Where she and I together live Here in this happy dell.' Thus Nature spake-The work was done— How soon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, 396 IV A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seem'd a thing that could not feel No motion has she now, no force; THE INNER VISION MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes To pace the ground, if path there be or none Pleased rather with some soft ideal scene -If Thought and Love desert us, from that day Whate'er the senses take or may refuse,- 397 BY THE SEA It is a beauteous evening, calm and free; Is sinking down in its tranquillity; 398 399 The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea: And doth with his eternal motion make Dear child! dear girl! that walkest with me here, Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year, UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE Sept. 3, 1802 EARTH has not anything to show more fair: The beauty of the morning: silent, bare, All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep The river glideth at his own sweet will: TO A DISTANT FRIEND WHY art thou silent? Is thy love a plant 400 401 Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilant, Speak!-though this soft warm heart, once free to hold Than a forsaken bird's-nest fill'd with snow Speak, that my torturing doubts their end may know! DESIDERIA SURPRIZED by joy-impatient as the wind- Love, faithful love recall'd thee to my mind To my most grievous loss-That thought's return Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; WE MUST BE FREE OR DIE It is not to be thought of that the flood Hath flowed, with pomp of waters, unwithstood,' |