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puld draw, when we had parted, vain
delight, "hile tears were thy best pastime, day
and night; And while my youthful peers before
my eyes Cach hero following his peculiar bent) repared themselves for glorious enter
prise y martial sports,-or, seated in the
tent, hieftains and kings in council were de
tained; Vhat time the fleet at Aulis lay en
The invisible world with thee hath sym
pathized ; Be thy affections raised and solemnized. * Learn, by a mortal yearning, to as
cendSeeking a higher object. Love was
given, Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that
For this the passion to excess was
drivenThat self might be annulled : her bond
age prove The fetters of a dream, opposed to
love." Aloud she shrieked ! for Hermes reap
The wished-for wind was given :-
11 then revolved The oracle, upon the silent sea ; Ind, if no worthier led the way, re
solved Chat, of a thousand vessels, mine should
be The foremost prow in pressing to the
strand, Mine the first blood that tinged the Tro
r Yet bitter, oft-times bitter was the
pang When of thy loss I thought, beloved
Wife! On thee too fondly did my memory
hang, And on the joys we shared in mortal
life,The paths which we had trod-these
fountains, flowers, My new-planned cities, and unfinished
Round the dear Shade she would have
clung-t is vain : The hours are past-too brief had they
been years ; And him no mortal effort can detain : Swift, toward the realms that know not
earthly day, He through the portal takes his silent
way, And on the palace-floor a lifeless corse
she lay. Thus, all in vain exhorted and reproved, She perished ; and, as for a wilfulcrime, By the just Gods whom no weak pity
moved, Was dooined to wear out her appointed
time, Apart from happy Ghosts, that gather
flowers Of blissful quiet 'mid unfading bowers. -Yet tears to human suffering are due ; And mortal hopes defeated and o'er
thrown Are mourned by man, and not by man
alone, As fondly he believes.-Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was enter
tained) A knot of spiry trees for ages grew From out the tomb of him for whom she
died ; And ever, when such stature they had
gained That Ilium's walls were subject to their
view, The trees' tall summits withered at the
sight : A constant interchange of growth and blight!
But should suspense permit the Foe to
cry, Behold they tremble !-haughty their
array. Yet of their number no one dares to
die ?' In soul I swept the indignity away: Old frailties then recurred :--but lofty
thought, In act embodied, my deliverance
wrought. ** And Thou, though strong in love, art
all too weak In reason, in self-government too slow ; I counsel thee by fortitude to seek Our blest re-union in the shades below.
The unconquerable strength of love ; Bear witness, rueful Yarrow !
As mentioned in my verses on the death of the Ettrick Shepherd, my first visit to Yarrow was in his company. We had lodged the night be. fore at Traquhair, where Hogg had joined us
I seldom read or think of this poem without regretting that my dear Sister was not of the party, as she would have had so much delight in recalling the time when, travelling together in Scotland, we declined going in search of this celebrated stream, not altogether, I will frankly confess, for the reasons assigned in the poem on the occasion. (Wordsworth.)
And is this-Yarrow ?- This the Stream
heart with sadness!
But thou, that didst appear so fair
bloom, For sportive youth to stray in ; For manhood to enjoy his strength; And age to wear away in ! Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss, A covert for protection Of tender thoughts, that nestle thereThe brood of chaste affection.
Yet why ?-a silvery current flows
mound On which the herd is feeding : And haply from this crystal pool, Now peaceful as the morning, The Water-wraith ascended thriceAnd gave his doleful warning. Delicious is the Lay that sings The haunts of happy Lovers, The path that leads them to the grove, The leafy grove that covers : And Pity sanctifies the Verse That paints, by strength of sorrow,
How sweet, on this autumnal day,
The vapors linger round the Heights,
SURPRISED by joy-impatient as the
Wind I turned to share the traņsport-Oh!
with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find ? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my
mindBut how could I forget thee? Through
what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss ? - That
thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was
no more : That neither present time, nor years un
born Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
TO B. R. HAYDON B. R. Haydon, the painter, was for many years a friend of Wordsworth. On November 27, 1815, Haydon wrote: “I have benefited and have been supported in the troubles of life by your poetry.
. I will bear want, pain, misery, and blindness; but I will never yield one step I have gained on the mad I am determined to travel over.' Wordsworth's answer to this letter was the following sonnet. High is our calling, Friend !-Creative
Art (Whether the instrument of words she
use, Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues.) Demands the service of a mind and heart, Though sensitive, yet, in their weakest
part, Heroically fashioned-to infuse Faith in the whispers of the lonely Muse, While the whole world seems adverse to
desert. And, oh! when Nature sinks, as oft she
may, Through long-lived pressure of obscure
distress, Still to be strenuous for the bright re
ward, And in the soul admit of no decay, Brook no continuance of weak-mindedGreat is the glory, for the strife is hard !
1815. 1816. NOVEMBER 1 How clear, how keen, how marvellously
bright The effluence from yon distant mount
ain's head, Which, strewn with snow smooth as the
sky can shed, Shines like another sun-on mortal sight Uprisen, as if to check approaching
Night, And all her twinkling stars. Who now
would tread, If so he might, yon mountain's glittering
headTerrestrial, but a surface, by the flight of sad mortality's earth-sullying wing, Unswept, unstained ? Nor shall the
aērial Powers Dissolve that beauty, destined to endure, White, radiant, spotless, exquisitely
pure, Through all vicissitudes, till genial
Spring Has filled the laughing vales with welcome flowers.
HAST THOU SEEN, WITH FLASH
Hast thou seen, with flash incessant,
Such are thoughts !-A wind-swept
meadow Mimicking a troubled sea, Such is life; and death a shadow From the rock eternity! 1818. 1820.
COMPOSED UPON AN EVENING OF EXTRAORDINARY SPLENDOR
Had this effulgence disappeared
And if some traveller, weary of his road, Hath slept since noontide on the grassy
ground, Ye Genii! to his covert speed ; And wake him with such gentle heed As may attune his soul to meet the
dower Bestowed on this transcendent hour!
No sound is uttered, -but a deep
divine, Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe That this magnificence is wholly thine ! --From worlds not quickened by the sun A portion of the gift is won ; An intermingling of Heaven's pomp is
spread On ground which British shepherds
Such hues from their celestial Urn
light Full early lost, and fruitlessly deplored : Which, at this moment, on my waking
sight Appears to shine, by miracle restored ; My soul, though yet confined to earth, Rejoices in a second birth ! -"Íis past, the visionary splendour
fades ; And night approaches with her shades.
And, if there be whom broken ties
raise Their practicable way: Come forth, ye drooping old men, look
abroad, And see to what fair countries ye are
DEPARTING summer hath assumed
Nor doth the example fail to cheer
Yet will I temperately rejoice;
I see what was, and is, and will abide ; Wide is the range, and free the choice Still glides the Stream, and shall for Of undiscordant themes ;
ever glide ; Which, haply, kindred souls may prize The Form remains, the Function never Not less than vernal ecstasies, And passion's feverish dreams.
While we, the brave, the mighty, and
the wise, For deathless powers to verse belong, We Men, who in our morn of youth deAnd they like Demi-gods are strong
fied On whom the Muses smile;
The elements, must vanish ;- be it so ! But some their function have dis
Enough, if something from our hands claimed,
have power Best pleased with what is aptliest | To live, and act, and serve the future framed
hour; To enervate and defile.
And if, as toward the silent tomb we
go, Not such the initiatory strains
Through love, through hope, and faith's Committed to the silent plains
transcendent dower, In Britain's earliest dawn :
We feel that we are greater than we Trembled the grores, the stars grew
18.20 1820. pale, While all-too-daringly the veil
MUTABILITY Of nature was withdrawn!
FROM low to high doth dissolution Nor such the spirit-stirring note
climb, When the live chords Alcæus smote,
And sink from high to low, along a Inflamed by sense of wrong:
scale Woe! woe to Tyrants ! from the lyre
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not Broke threateningly, in sparkles dire
fail; Of fierce vindictive song.
A musical but melancholy chime, And not unballowed was the page
Which they can hear who meddle not By winged Love inscribed, to assuage
with crime, The pangs of vain pursuit ;
Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care. Love listening while the Lesbian Maid
Truth fails not; but her outward forms With finest touch of passion swayed
that bear Her own Eolian lute.
The longest date do melt like frosty
rime, Oye, who patiently explore
That in the morning whitened hill and The wreck of Herculanean lore,
plain What rapture! could ye seize
And is no more ; drop like the tower Some Theban fragment, or unroll
sublime Due precious, tender-hearted, scroll Of yesterday, which royally did wear Of pure Simonides.
His crown of weeds, but could not even
sustain That were, indeed, a genuine birth Some casual shout that broke the silent of poesy : a bursting forth
air, Of genius from the dust:
Or the unimaginable touch of Time. What Horace gloried to behold.
18.21. 1822. What Maro loved, shall we enfold ? Can haughty Time be just !
INSIDE OF KING'S COLLEGE 1819. 1820.
Tax not the royal Saint with vain ex
pense, I THOUGHT of Thee, my partner and my With ill-matched aims the Architect guide,
who planned As being past away.–Vain sympathies ! Albeit laboring for a scanty band For, backward, Duddon, as I cast my Of white-robed Scholars only—this im