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A pair of herons oft-times have I seen,
And so, when night with grateful gloom had fallen, | Two glow-worms in such nearness that they shared,
As seemed, their soft self-satisfying light,
But small and fugitive our gain
(SUGGESTED IN A WESTMORELAND COTTAGE.)
| DRIVEN in by Autumn's sharpening air | From half-stripped woods and pastures bare,
Brisk Robin seeks a kindlier home : | Not like a beggar is he come,
But enters as a looked for guest,
Till you have marked his heaving chest,
Thrice happy Creature! in all lands Nurtured by hospitable hands : Free entrance to this cot has he, Entrance and exit both yet free; And, when the keen unruffled weather That thus brings man and bird together, Shall with its pleasantness be past, And casement closed and door made fast, To keep at bay the howling blast, He needs not fear the season's rage, For the whole house is Robin's cage. Whether the bird Ait here or there, O'er table lilt, or perch on chair, Though some may frown and make a stir, To scare him as a trespasser, And he belike will flinch or start, Good friends he has to take his part; One chiefly, who with voice and look Pleads for him from the chimney-nook, Where sits the Dame, and wears away
Heart-pleased we smile upon the Bird If seen, and with like pleasure stirred Commend him, when he's only heard.
* The words
•Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and Jobn,
Bless the bed that I lie on,' are part of a child's prayer, still in general use through the northern counties.
IX. I'll teach my boy the sweetest things : I'll teach him how the owlet sings. My little babe ! thy lips are still, And thou hast almost sucked thy fill. - Where art thou gone, my own dear child ? What wicked looks are those I see? Alas! alas ! that look so wild, It never, never came from me: If thou art mad, my pretty lad, Then I must be for ever sad.
Oh ! smile on me, my little lamb !
POEMS ON THE NAMING OF PLACES.
ADVERTISEMENT. By persons resident in the country and attached to rural objects, many places will be found unnamed or of unknown names, where little Incidents must have occurred, or feelings been experienced, which will have given to such places a private and peculiar interest. From a wish to give some sort of record to such Incidents, and renew the gratification of such feelings, Names have been given to Places by the Author and some of his Friends, and the following Poems written in consequence.
“Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,
My Emma, I will dedicate to thee.” It was an April morning: fresh and clear
- Soon did the spot become my other home, The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,
My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode. Ran with a young man's speed; and yet the voice | And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there, Of waters which the winter had supplied
To whom I sometimes in our idle talk Was softened down into a vernal tone.
Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps, The spirit of enjoyment and desire,
Years after we are gone and in our graves,
May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL
Amid the smoke of cities did you pass
The time of early youth; and there you learned, Were native to the summer.- Up the brook From years of quiet industry, to love I roamed in the confusion of my heart,
The living Beings by your own fire-side, Alive to all things and forgetting all.
With such a strong devotion, that your heart At length I to a sudden turning came
Is slow to meet the sympathies of them In this continuous glen, where down a rock Who look upon the hills with tenderness, The Stream, so ardent in its course before, And make dear friendships with the streams and Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all
groves. Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice Yet we, who are transgressors in this kind, Of common pleasure : beast and bird, the lamb, Dwelling retired in our simplicity The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush Among the woods and fields, we love you well, Vied with this waterfall, and made a song,
Joanna! and I guess, since you have been Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild growth So distant from us now for two long years, Or like some natural produce of the air,
That you will gladly listen to discourse, That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here; However trivial, if you thence be taught But 'twas the foliage of the rocks—the birch, That they, with whom you once were happy, tak The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn, Familiarly of you and of old times. With hanging islands of resplendent furze: And, on a summit, distant a short space,
While I was seated, now some ten days past, By any who should look beyond the dell,
Beneath those lofty firs, that overtop A single mountain-cottage might be seen.
Their ancient neighbour, the old steeple-tower, I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said,
The Vicar from his gloomy house hard by
Came forth to greet me; and when he had asked, The fair Joanna drew, as if she wished
And silent morning, I sat down, and there,
In memory of affections old and true, Of formidable size had chiselled out
I chiselled out in those rude characters Some uncouth name upon the native rock,
Joanna's name deep in the living stone : Above the Rotha, by the forest-side.
And I, and all who dwell by my fireside, -Now, by those dear immunities of heart
Have called the lovely rock, Joanna's Rock." Engendered between malice and true love,
1800. I was not loth to be so catechised,
Note.--In Cumberland and Westmoreland are several And this was my reply :-“As it befel,
Inscriptions, upon the native rock, which, from the wastOne summer morning we had walked abroad
ing of time, and the rudeness of the workmanship, have
been mistaken for Runic. They are without doubt Roman. At break of day, Joanna and myself.
The Rotha, mentioned in this poem, is the River which, —'Twas that delightful season when the broom, flowing through the lakes of Grasmere and Rydale, falls Full-flowered, and visible on every steep,
into Wynandermere. On Helmcrag, that impressive single Along the copses runs in veins of gold.
mountain at the head of the Vale of Grasmere, is a rock
which from most points of view bears a striking resemOur pathway led us on to Rotha's banks;
blance to an old Woman cowering. Close by this rock is And when we came in front of that tall rock
one of those fissures or caverns, which in the language of That eastward looks, I there stopped short-and the country are called dungeons. Most of the mountains stood
here mentioned immediately surround the Vale of Gras
mere; of the others, some are at a considerable distance, Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye
but they belong to the same cluster.
THERE is an Eminence-of these our hills
The last that parleys with the setting sun ; Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld
We can behold it from our orchard-seat; That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud.
And, when at evening we pursue our walk
Along the public way, this Peak, so high
Above us, and so distant in its height,
Is visible; and often seems to send Was ready with her cavern ; Hammar-scar,
Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts. And the tall Steep of Silver-how, sent forth
The meteors make of it a favourite haunt:
The star of Jove, so beautiful and large
In the mid heavens, is never half so fair
As when he shines above it. 'Tis in truth Carried the Lady's voice,-old Skiddaw blew
The loneliest place we have among the clouds. His speaking-trumpet ;-back out of the clouds
And She who dwells with me, whom I have loved Of Glaramara southward came the voice;
With such communion, that no place on earth And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head.
Can ever be a solitude to me, -Now whether (said I to our cordial Friend,
Hath to this lonely Summit given my Name.
1800. Who in the hey-day of astonishment Smiled in my face) this were in simple truth A work accomplished by the brotherhood Of ancient mountains, or my ear was touched With dreams and visionary impulses
A NARROW girdle of rough stones and crags, To me alone imparted, sure I am
A rude and natural causeway, interposed That there was a loud uproar in the hills.
Between the water and a winding slope And, while we both were listening, to my side | Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore