Released from fear and doubt; And the bright landscape too must lie, By this blank wall, from every eye, Relentlessly shut out. Bear witness ye who seldom passed Blest is that ground, where, o'er the springs Fame sheds the exulting tear; Yet earth is wide, and many a nook Unheard of is, like this, a book For modest meanings dear. It was in sooth a happy thought So confident a token Of coming good :-the charm is fled; Which one harsh day has broken. Derived from earth or heaven, To hearts so oft by hope betrayed; Their very wishes wanted aid Which here was freely given? A balm of expectation? And not unfelt will prove the loss And each day's shallow grief, Though the most easily beguiled Were oft among the first that smiled At their own fond belief. If still the reckless change we mourn, To harm that might lurk here, And strength to persevere. Not Fortune's slave is Man: our state On wishes just and wise, So taught, so trained, we boldly face Whatever props may fail, Ungrieved, with charm and spell; And yet, lost Wishing-gate, to thee The voice of grateful memory Shall bid a kind farewell! XLIII. THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK. Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps, What hideous warfare hath been waged, The flowers, still faithful to the stems, The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of view; And to the rock the root adheres Close clings to earth the living rock, So blooms this lonely plant, nor dreads That love which changed-for wan disease, Sin-blighted though we are, we too, Our threescore years and ten. 1831. XLIV. PRESENTIMENTS. PRESENTIMENTS! they judge not right Who deem that ye from open light Retire in fear of shame; All heaven-born Instincts shun the touch The tear whose source I could not guess, now, And unforced by time to part And venture on your praise. What though some busy foes to good, Lurk near you-and combine How oft from you, derided Powers! And teach us to beware. The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift, Shall vanish, if ye please, Like morning mist: and, where it lay Star-guided contemplations move Through space, though calm, not raised above Prognostics that ye rule; The naked Indian of the wild, But who can fathom your intents, A subtle smell that Spring unbinds, The laughter of the Christmas hearth And daily, in the conscious breast, And exercise of love. When some great change gives boundless scope To an exulting Nation's hope, Oft, startled and made wise By your low-breathed interpretings, Ye daunt the proud array of war, As sail hath been unfurled; Fetched from the shadowy world! 'Tis said that warnings ye dispense, Emboldened by a keener sense; That men have lived for whom, With dread precision, ye made clear The hour that in a distant year Should knell them to the tomb. Unwelcome insight! Yet there are God, who instructs the brutes to scent Whose wisdom fixed the scale Of natures, for our wants provides XLV. Blended in absolute serenity, VERNAL ODE. And free from semblance of decline;Fresh as if Evening brought their natal hour, Rerum Natura tota est nusquam magis quam Her darkness splendor gave, her silence in minimis.PLIN. NAT. HIST. power, enchanter's power, The melancholy gates of Death Where nothing was: and firm as some old And saves the peopled fields of earth Tower Of Britain's realm, whose leafy crest Waves high, embellished by a gleaming shower. II. Beneath the shadow of his purple wings Rested a golden harp;-he touched the strings; And, after prelude of unearthly sound Poured through the echoing hills around, He sang "No wintry desolations, Scorching blight or noxious dew, Affect my native habitations; Buried in glory, far beyond the scope Of man's inquiring gaze, but to his hope Imaged, though faintly, in the hue Profound of night's ethereal blue; And in the aspect of each radiant orb;Some fixed, some wandering with no timid curb; But wandering star and fixed, to mortal eye, From dread of emptiness or dearth. Thus, in their stations, lifting tow'rd the sky The foliaged head in cloud-like majesty, Their myriads?-endlessly renewed, Their course, or genial showers descend! IV. O, nursed at happy distance from the cares Of a too-anxious world, mild pastoral Muse! That, to the sparkling crown Urania wears, And to her sister Clio's laurel wreath, Prefer'st a garland culled from purple heath, Or blooming thicket moist with morning dews; Was such bright Spectacle vouchsafed to me? And was it granted to the simple ear Such melody to hear! Him rather suits it, side by side with thee, To lie and listen-till o'er-drowsèd sense A cunning forager The seeds of malice were not sown; All creatures met in peace, from fierceness free, And no pride blended with their dignity. The golden years maintained a course Bright Seraphs mixed familiarly with men; And earth and stars composed a universal heaven! 1817. XLVI. DEVOTIONAL INCITEMENTS. "Not to the earth confined, Ascend to heaven." WHERE will they stop, those breathing The Spirits of the new-born flowers? From humble violet--modest thyme- That spreads no waste; a social builder; As if no space below the sky one In whom all busy offices unite With all fine functions that afford delightSafe through the winter storm in quiet dwells! V. And is She brought within the power Thy sting was needless then, perchance unknown, Their subtle flight could satisfy: Heaven will not tax our thoughts with pride If like ambition be their guide. Roused by this kindliest of May-showers, The spirit-quickener of the flowers, That with moist virtue softly cleaves The buds, and freshens the young leaves, The birds pour forth their souls in notes Of rapture from a thousand throatsHere checked by too impetuous haste, While there the music runs to waste, With bounty more and more enlarged, Till the whole air is overcharged; Give ear, O Man! to their appeal And thirst for no inferior zeal, Thou, who canst think, as well as feel. Mount from the earth; aspire! aspire! So pleads the town's cathedral quire, In strains that from their solemn height Sink, to attain a loftier flight; While incense from the altar breathes Rich fragrance in embodied wreaths; Or, flung from swinging censer, shrouds And humors change, are spurned like weeds: The priests are from their altars thrust; Temples are levelled with the dust; And solemn rites and awful forms Founder amid fanatic storms, Yet evermore, through years renewed In undisturbed vicissitude Of seasons balancing their flight On the swift wings of day and night, Kind Nature keeps a heavenly door Wide open for the scattered Poor. Where flower-breathed incense to the skies Is wafted in mute harmonies; And ground fresh-cloven by the plough Is fragrant with a humbler vow; Where birds and brooks from leafy dells Chime forth unwearied canticles, And vapors magnify and spread The glory of the sun's bright headStill constant in her worship, still Conforming to the eternal Will, Whether men sow or reap the fields, Divine monition Nature yields, That not by bread alone we live, Or what a hand of flesh can give ; That every day should leave some part Free for a sabbath of the heart: So shall the seventh be truly blest, From morn to eve, with hallowed rest. 1832. XLVII. THE CUCKOO-CLOCK. WOULDST thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight, By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell, How far-off yet a glimpse of morning light, And if to lure the truant back be well, Forbear to covet a Repeater's stroke, That, answering to thy touch, will sound the hour; Better provide thee with a Cuckoo-clock For service hung behind thy chamber-door; And in due time the soft spontaneous shock, The double note, as if with living power, Will to composure lead-or make thee blithe as bird in bower. List, Cuckoo-Cuckoo!-oft tho' tempests howl, Or nipping frost remind thee trees are bare, How cattle pine, and droop the shivering fowl, Thy spirits will seem to feed on balmy air: I speak with knowledge,-by that Voice beguiled, Thou wilt salute old memories as they throng Into thy heart; and fancies, running wild Through fresh green fields, and budding groves among, Will make thee happy, happy as a child: Of sunshine wilt thou think, and flowers, and song, And breathe as in a world where nothing can go wrong. And know-that, even for him who shuns the day And nightly tosses on a bed of pain; Whose joys, from all but memory swept away, Must come unhoped for, if they come again : Know that, for him whose waking thoughts, severe As his distress is sharp, would scorn my theme, The mimic notes, striking upon his ear To mock the wandering Voice beside some haunted stream. O bounty without measure! while the grace Of Heaven doth in such wise, from humblest springs, Pour pleasure forth, and solaces that trace Streaming from founts above the starry sky, With angels when their own untroubled home |