A little cyclops, with one eye That thought comes next, - and instantly The freak is over, The shape will vanish, and behold A silver shield with boss of gold, That spreads itself, some faery bold - I see thee glittering from afar, In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Bright Flower! for by that name at last, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, That breath'st with me in sun and air, Of thy meek nature! IX. THE GREEN LINNET. BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed In this sequestered nook how sweet And birds and flowers once more to greet, One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest: Hail to thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! Thou, Linnet! in thy green array, Presiding spirit here to-day, Dost lead the revels of the May; And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, Make all one band of paramours, Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment: A Life, a Presence like the air, Too blest with any one to pair ; Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel-trees, Yet seeming still to hover; There! where the flutter of his wings My dazzled sight he oft deceives, As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain 1803. X. TO A SKYLARK. Up with me! up with me into the clouds! Up with me! up with me into the clouds! With clouds and sky about thee ringing, That spot which seems so to thy mind! I have walked through wildernesses dreary, Had I now the wings of a Faery, Up to thee would I fly. There is madness about thee, and joy divine In that song of thine; Lift me, guide me high and high To thy banqueting-place in the sky. Joyous as morning, Thou art laughing and scorning; Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest, Drunken Lark! thou wouldst be loth To be such a traveller as I. Happy, happy Liver, With a soul as strong as a mountain river Joy and jollity be with us both! Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven, Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind; I, with my fate contented, will plod on, And hope for higher raptures, when life's day is done. XI. TO THE SMALL CELANDINE.* PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, They will have a place in story : There's a flower that shall be mine, "T is the little Celandine. Eyes of some men travel far Up and down the heavens they go, I'm as great as they, I trow, Little Flower!- I'll make a stir, Modest, yet withal an Elf Bold, and lavish of thyself; Since we needs must first have met, I have seen thee, high and low, Thirty years or more, and yet *Common Pilewort. |