A VOLANT TRIBE OF BARDS ON EARTH

Not these alone inspire the tuneful shell;
But where untroubled peace and concord dwell,
There also is the Muse not loth to range,
Watching the twilight smoke of cot or grange,1
Skyward ascending from a woody dell.2 *
Meek aspirations please her, lone endeavour,
And sage content, and placid melancholy;
-She loves to gaze upon a crystal river—
Diaphanous because it travels slowly; †
Soft is the music that would charm for ever; 3
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.

119

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"A VOLANT TRIBE OF BARDS ON EARTH ARE FOUND"

Composed 1823.-Published 1827

One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."-ED.

A VOLANT Tribe of Bards on earth are found,
Who, while the flattering Zephyrs round them play,
On "coignes of vantage" ‡ hang their nests of clay;
How quickly from that aery hold unbound,

Dust for oblivion !

To the solid ground

Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye;
Convinced that there, there only, she can lay

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Secure foundations. As the year runs round,
Apart she toils within the chosen ring;
While the stars shine,1 or while day's purple eye
Is gently closing with the flowers of spring;
Where even the motion of an Angel's wing
Would interrupt the intense tranquillity
Of silent hills, and more than silent sky.*

1 1827.

nests of clay,

Work cunningly devised, and seeming sound;
But quickly from its airy hold unbound
By its own weight, or washed, or blown away
With silent imperceptible decay.

If man must build, admit him to thy ground,
O Truth! to work within the eternal ring,
Where the stars shine,

1823.

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Compare Alexander Hume's Day's Estival (1599). This and the preceding sonnet were first published in 1823 in A Collection of Poems, chiefly manuscript, and from living authors, edited for the benefit of a Friend, by Joanna Baillie. The collection includes Sir Walter Scott's Macduff's Cross, and Southey's The Cataract of Lodore.-ED.

1824

THE poems written in 1824 were few. They include two addressed to Mrs. Wordsworth, two or three composed at Coleorton, and a couple of memorial sonnets suggested during a tour in North Wales.-ED.

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Composed 1824.-Published 1827

[Written at Rydal Mount. On Mrs. Wordsworth.-I. F.]

1

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."-ED.

LET other bards of angels sing,

Bright suns without a spot;

But thou art no such perfect thing:
Rejoice that thou art not!

1

Heed not tho' none should call thee fair; 2
So, Mary, let it be

If nought in loveliness compare

With what thou art to me.

Such if thou wert in all men's view,
A universal show,

What would my Fancy have to do,

2 1832.

My Feelings to bestow?

A second (additional) stanza in the editions of 1827-43.

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The world denies that Thou art fair;

1827.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats,

Whose veil is unremoved

Till heart with heart in concord beats,
And the lover is beloved.

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Composed 1824.-Published 1827

[Written at Rydal Mount. To Mrs. W.-I. F.]

One of the Poems founded on the Affections."-ED.

O DEARER far than light and life are dear,

Full oft our human foresight I deplore;

Trembling, through my unworthiness, with fear

That friends, by death disjoined, may meet no more!

Misgivings, hard to vanquish or control,

Mix with the day, and cross the hour of rest;
While all the future, for thy purer soul,

With "sober certainties" of love is blest.*

That sigh of thine,1 not meant for human ear,
Tells 2 that these words thy humbleness offend ;
Yet bear me up 3-else faltering in the rear
Of a steep march: support 4 me to the end.

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HOW RICH THAT FOREHEAD'S CALM EXPANSE 123

Peace settles where the intellect is meek,

And Love is dutiful in thought and deed;

Through Thee communion with that Love I seek:

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The faith Heaven strengthens where he moulds the Creed.

"HOW RICH THAT FOREHEAD'S CALM

EXPANSE!"

Composed 1824.-Published 1827

[Written at Rydal Mount. Mrs. Wordsworth's impression is that the Poem was written at Coleorton: it was certainly suggested by a Print at Coleorton Hall.-I. F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."-ED.

How rich that forehead's calm expanse!
How bright that heaven-directed glance!
—Waft her to glory, wingèd Powers,
Ere sorrow be renewed,

And intercourse with mortal hours
Bring back a humbler mood!

So looked Cecilia when she drew

An Angel from his station ; *
So looked; not ceasing to pursue
Her tuneful adoration!

But hand and voice alike are still;
No sound here sweeps away the will
That gave it birth in service meek
One upright arm sustains the cheek,

And one across the bosom lies—
That rose, and now forgets to rise,

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* Compare Dryden's Alexander's Feast, an Ode in honour of St. Cecilia's

Day

Timotheus. He raised a mortal to the skies.
Cecilia. She drew an angel down.

ED.