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Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the lakes and the plains,
The Spirit he loves remains;
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.
The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead. As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit, one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings ; And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and of love,
From the depth of heaven above,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
Which only the angels hear,
The stars peep behind her and peer :
Like a swarm of golden bees,
Till the calm river, lakes, and seas,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the moon's with a girdle of pearl :
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,
The mountains its columns be.
With hurricane, fire, and snow,
Is the million-coloured bow;
While the moist earth was laughing below.
I am the daughter of the earth and water,
And the nurseling of the sky :
I change, but I cannot die.
The pavilion of heaven is bare,
Build up the blue dome of air-
And out of the caverns of rain,
I rise and upbuild it again.
Hail to thee, blithe spirit !
Bird thou never wert,
Pourest thy full heart
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
The blue deep thou wingest,
In the golden lighting
Of the sunken sun,
Thou dost float and run ;
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
In the broad day-light,
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain ?
What shapes of sky or plain ?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not :
With some pain is fraught;
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
Not to shed a tear,
THE POET AND HIS POETRY.
(WILLIAM WORDSWORTH is descended from a respectable family; he was born at Cockermouth, on the 7th of April, 1770, and was educated at Hawkes. head School in Lancashire; he removed to the University of Cambridge, in 1787, where he was matriculated a student of St. John's. While a student he made a pedestrian journey through part of France, Savoy, Switzerland, and Italy. On this tour he composed the greater part of those delightful lines subsequently published under the title of “ Desciptive Sketches in Verse," being the first of his publications. After Mr. Wordsworth quitted the University, he travelled through various parts of England particularly among mountain and lake scenery, and afterwards visited Germany; but in 1800, he again took up his residence at Grasmere, a small village in Westmoreland, and in 1803, married Miss Mary Hutchinson, the daughter of a merchant at Penrith. Amid these mountains ever dear to him, the poet still resides passing his declining years in solitary musing, or in daily converse with the face of nature.
With regard to Wordsworth as a poet, he may be styled the High Priest of Nature,-his temple the universe, and his altar the mountain tops. Here he calls around him all the objects of glory, or grandeur, or sublimity, or beauty, that shadow forth her perfections, and invests his spirit with them as sacerdotal habiliments, embellished with a variety of mystical symbols, wrought out of the rich intellectuality of his mind : and amid mists and darkness, cataracts and swelling floods, the clear grey of the dawn, or the deep gloom of the twilight shadow, does homage and offers up incense from the censor of the heart. Imagination and fancy, his chosen hand-maids, attend him whithersoever he walks, and whisper to him of things pure and perfect in the unseen world, and would seem to teach him that all the objects of sense are representations only of the divine and perfect realities of another world, In his abstract and metaphysical reveries, he dreams that the beautiful creations of his mind, are either dim recollections of a former state purely mental, or that they are the incipient germs of a new and beautiful and perfect existence near at hand. Such is his poetical creed, and he calls upon his disciples to follow him, and he wanders forth reading as he goes, the great volume of nature spread out before him, giving spiritual and mystical interpretations, and solving the solemn utterances of an unknown tongue. He takes for his text the mountain torrent, the fantastic rock, the daisy or the sallow leaf, and each has with him a deep and mysterious meaning,-meaning not to be fully comprehended, but by minds which are in degree under the influeuce of the same spirit which lives in his. Thus Wordsworth is not understood by the generality of readers ; they have not learned his creed ; they do not understand the language in which he speaks. He is therefore the poet of a class who have a heartfelt love for the objects of sense, and are imbued with that ideal philosophy which refers all to an indwelling existence, which makes the outward what it is. Wordsworth is at last beginning to be popu. lar, and he will continue to gain popularity as mankind begins to think deeply and feel correctly.]