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Note 20, page 4, col. 1.
She tells of time mispent, of comfort lost,
of fair occasions one for ever by; Sweet bird! thy truth shall Ilaarlem's walls attest,
Of hopes too fondly nursed, too rudely crossid, During the siege of Haarlem, when that city was re
Of many a cause to wish, yet fear to die;
For what, esceptih'instinctive fear duced to the last extremity, and on the point of opening
Lest sbe survive, detains me here, its gates to a base and barbarous cnemy, a design was
When all the life of life- is fed ? formed to relieve it; and the intelligence was conveyed
What, but the deep inberent dread,
Lest sbe beyond the grave resume ber reign, to the citizens by a letter which was tied under the wing
And realize the hell that priests and beldams feign? of a pigeon.—Thuanus, lib. lv, c. 5. The same messenger was employed at the siege of
Note 25, page 6, col. 1. Mutina, as we are informed by the elder Pliny.-Hist.
Hast thou tbro' Eden's wild-wood vales pursued. Nat. x, 37.
On the road-side between Penrith and Appleby there
stands a small pillar with this inscription : Note 21, page 4, col. 2.
« This pillar was erected in the year 1656, by Ann Hark! the bee, etc.
Countess Dowager of Pembroke, etc. for a memorial of This little animal, from the extreme convexity of her her last parting, in this place, with her good and pious eye, cannot see many inches before her.
mother, Margaret, Countess Dowager of Cumberland, on
the 2d of April, 1616; in memory whereof she hath left Note 22, page 5, col 1.
an annuity of 41. to be distributed to the poor of the
parish of Brougham, cvery ad day of April for ever, upon These still exist, etc.
the stone-table placed hard by. Laus Deo!. There is a future Existence even in this world, an
The Eden is the principal river of Cumberland, and Existence in the hearts and minds of those who shall rises in the wildest part of Westmoreland. live after lis. It is in reserve for every man, however
Note 26, page 6, col. 1. obscure; and his portion, if he be diligent, must be
O'er bis dead son the gallant Ormond sighd. equal to his desires. For in whose remembrance can we wish to hold a place, but such as know, and are
Ormond bore the loss with patience and dignity: known by us ? These are within the sphere of our in- though he ever retained a pleasing, however melanfluence, and among these and their descendants we may
choly, sense of the signal merit of Ossory. «I would not live evermore.
« for any living son in
Christendom.»-HUME. It is a state of rewards and punishments; and, like that revealed to us in the Gospel, has the happiest in
The same sentiment is inscribed on Miss Dolman's
urn at the Leasowes. Juence on our lives. The latter excites us to gain the
- Heu, quanto minus est cum refavour of God, the former to gain the love and esteem liquis versari, quam tui meminisse!» of wise and good men; and both lead to the same end;
Note 27, page 6, col. 2. for, in framing our conceptions of the Deity, we only
High on exulting wing the heatb-cock rose. ascribe to Him exalted degrees of Wisdom and Good This bird is remarkable for luis exultation during
the spring Note 23, page 5, col. 2.
Note 28, page 6, col. 2.
Derwent's clear mirror,
Keswick-Lake in Cumberland.
Down by St Herbert's consecrated grove.
A small island covered with trees, among which were Note 24, page 6, col. 1.
formerly the ruins of a religious house. Turns but to start, and gazes but to sigh!
Note 30, page 7, col. 2. The following stanzas are said to have been written
Wben lo! a sudden blast the vessel blew. on a blank leaf of this Poem. They present so affect
In a lake surrounded with mountains, the agitations ing a reverse of the picture, that I cannot resist the
are often violent and momentary. The winds blow in opportunity of introducing them here.
gusts and eddies; and the water no sooner swells, than
it subsides.-See Bourn's list. of Westmoreland.
Note 31, page 7, col. 2.
To what pure beings, in a nobler sphere.
The several degrees of angels may probably have
larger views, and some of them be endowed with capaMemory makes her influence known
cities able to retain together, and constantly set before By sighs, avd tears, and gri f alone : I preet her as ibe tiend, 10 whom heloog
them, as in one picture, all their past knowledge at The vulture's ravening beak, the raven's funeral sonc. once,-Locke.
col. 2. Note 29, page 7,
Yet, all forgot, how oft the eye-lids close,
How oft, as dead, on the warm turf we lie, Introduction-Ringing of bells in a neighbouring Vil-While many an emmet comes with curious eye;
lage on the Birth of an Heir-General Reflections on And on her nest the watchful wren sits by! Human Life, The Subject proposed-Childhood - Nor do we speak or move, or hear or see; Youth-Manliood--Love- Marriage-Domestic Hap- So like what once we were, and once again shall be! piness and Aftliction-War-Peace-Civil Dissension
And say, how soon, where, blithe as innocent, -Retirement from active Life - Old Age and its
The boy at sun-rise whistled as he went, Enjoyments--Conclusion.
An aged pilgrim on his staff shall lean,
Tracing in vain the footsteps o'er the green; The lark has sung his carol in the sky;
The man himself how altered, not the scene! The bees have humi'd their noon-tide lullaby.
Now journeying home with nothing but the name; Still in the vale the village-bells ring round,
Way-worn and spent, another and the same! Still in Llewellyn-ball the jests resound :
No eye observes the growth or the decay:
Tc-day we look as we did yesterday;
Yet while the loveliest smiles, her locks grow grey! The babe, th:e sleeping image of his sire.
And in her glass could she but see the face
How would she shrink!-- Returning from afar,
After some years of travel, some of war, Eager to run the race his fathers ran.
Within his gate Ulysses stood unknown Then the huge ox shall yield the broad sir-loin;
Before a wife, a father, and a son! The ale, now brew'd, in floods of amber shine :
And such is Human Life, the general theme. And, basking in the chimney's amplc blaze,
Ah, what at best, what but a longer dream? 'Mid many a tale told of his boyish days,
Though with such wild romantic wanderings franght, The nurse shall cry, of all her ills beguiled,
Such forms in Fancy's richest colouring wrought, 'T was on these knces he sate so oft and smiled.»
That, like the visions of a love-sick brain,
Who would not sleep and dream them o'er again? Vestures of nuptial while; and hymns be sung,
Our pathway leads but to a precipice; (1) And violets scatter'd round; and old and young,
And all must follow, fearful as it is ! In every cottage-porch with garlands green,
From the first step 't is known; but- No delay! Stand still to gaze, and, gazing, bless the scene;
On, 't is decreed.
We tremble and obey.
A thousand ills beset us as we go.
-« Still, could I shun the fatal gulf--Ah, no, And once, alas, nor in a distant hour,
'T is all in vain-the inexorable law! Another voice shall come from yonder tower;
Nearer and nearer to the brink we draw. When in dim chambers long black weeds are seen,
Verdure springs up; and fruits and flowers invite, And weepings heard where only joy has been;
And groves and fountains-all things that delight. When by his children borne, and from his door
• Ob I would stop, and linger if I might!-Slowly departing to return no more,
We fly; no resting for the foot we find ;(2) He rests in holy earth with them that went before.
And dark before, all desolate behind! And such is Human Life; so gliding on,
At length the brink appears—but one step more! It glimmers like a meteor, and is gone!
We faint-On, on!- we falter-and 't is o'er! Yet is the tale, brief though it be, as strange,
Yet here high passions, high desires unfold, As full, meihinks, of wild and wondrous change,
Prompting to noblest deeds; here links of gold As any that the wandering tribes require,
Bind soul to soul; and thoughts divine inspire Stretch'd in the desert round their evening-fire;
A thirst unquenchable, a holy fire As any sung of old in ball or bower
That will not, cannot but with life expire! To midstrel-harps at midnight's witching hour!
Now, seraph-wing'd, among the stars we soar; Born in a trance, we wake, observe, inquire; Now distant ages, like a day, explore, And the green earth, the azure sky admire.
And judge the act, the actor now no more; Of Elfin-size-for ever as we run,
Or, in a thankless hour condemnd to live, We cast a longer shadow in the sun!
From others claim what these refuse to give, And now a charm, and now a grace is won!
And dart, like Milton, an unerring eye We grow in wisdom, and in stature too!
Through the dim curtains of Futurity. (3) And, as new scenes, new objects rise to view,
Wealth, Pleasure, Ease, all thought of self resiquid, Think nothing done while aught remains to do. What will not Man encounter for Mankind ?
Behold him now unbar the prison-door,
Watch o'er his slumbers like the brooding dove, And, lifting Guilt, Contagion from the floor,
And, if she can, exhaust a mother's love! To Peace and Health, and Light and Life restore;
But soon a nobler task demands her care. Now in Thermopylae remain to share
Apart she joins his little hands in prayer, Death-nor look back, nor turn a footstep there, Telling of Him who sees in secret there!Leaving his story to the birds of air ;
And now tlic volume on her knee has cauglılı And now like Pylades (in Ileaven they write
Ilis wandering eye--now many a written thought Names such as his in characters of light)
Never to die, with many a lisping sweet Long with lois friend in generous enmity,
Ilis moving, murmuring lips endcavour to repeat. Pleading, insisting in his place to die!
Released, he chases the bright butterfly; Do what he will, be cannot realize
Oh he would follow-follow through the sky! Sjalf he conceives--thie glorio:is vision flies.
Climbs ılıe gauni mastiff slumbering in luis cliain,
And chides and buffets, clinging by the mane; Go where he
he cannot hope to find The truth, the beauty pictured in his mind.
Thien runs, and, knceling by the fountain-side,
Sends his brave ship in triumph down the side, But if by chance an object strike the sense, The faintest shadow of that Excellence,
A dangerous voyage; or, if now he can,
If now he wears the habit of a man, Passions, that slept, are stirring in his frame;
Flings off the coat so long luis pride and pleasure, Thoughts undefined, feelings without a name!
And, like a miser digging for his treasure,
illis tiny spade in luis own garden plics,
And in green lciters sees luis name arise! Lying too deep for things that perish here,
Where'er he Waiting for life--but in a nobler sphere!
for ever in lier sight,
| Slic looks, and looks, and still withi new deliylıc! Look where he comes! Rejoicing in his birth,
Ah who, when fading of itself away. Awhile he moves as in a heaven on earth!
Would cloud the sunshine of his little day! San, moon, and stars--the land, thic sea, the sky
Now is the May of Life. Careering round, To him shine out as 't were a galaxy!
Joy wings his feet, Joy lifts him from the ground! But soon 't is past—the light has died away!
Pointing to such, well might Cornelia say, With him it came it was not of the day)
When the rich casket shonc in bright array, And he himself diffused it, like the stone
« These are my Jewels!: (7) Well of such as he, That sheds awhile a lustre all its own, (4)
When Jesus spake, well might his language be, Making night beautiful. "T is past, 't is gone,
« Suffer these little ones to come to me!. (8) And in his darkness as lie journeys on,
Thoughtful by fils, he scans and be reveres Nothing revives him but the blessed ray
The brow cngraven with the Thoughts of Years; (9) That now breaks in, por ever knows decay,
Close by her side his silent homage given Sent from a better world to light liim on his way.
As to some pure Intelligence from Heaven ; How great the Mystery! Let others sing
His eyes cast downward with ingenuous shame, The circling Year, the promise of the Spring,
Uis conscious cheeks, conscious of praise or blame, The Summer's glory, and the rich repose
At once lit up as with a holy tlame! Of Autumn, and the Winter's silvery snows.
He thirsts for knowledge, speaks but to inquire; Man through the changing scene let me pursue, And soon with tears relinquish'd to the Sire, Himself how wondrous in his changes too!
Soon in his hand to Wisdom's temple led, Not Man, the sullen savage in his den;
Holds secret converse with the Mighty Dead; But Man call'd forth in fellowship with men;
Trembles and thrills and weeps as they inspire, Schoold and train'd up to Wisdom from his birth; (5) Burns as they burn, and with congenial fire! God's noblest work-Ois image upon earth!
Like Her most yenile, most unfortunate, (10) The hour arrives, the moment wished and fear'd; (6) Crown'd but to die-who in her chamber sate The child is born, by many a pang endear'd.
Musing with Plato, though the horn was blown, And now the mother's ear bas caught his cry;
And every car and every heart was won, Oh grant the clierub to her asking eye!
And all in green array were chasing down the sun! He comes--she clasps him. 'To her bosom press'd, Then is the Age of Admiration(11)-Then He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest.
Gods walk the earth, or beings more than men, Her by her smile bow soon the Stranger knows; Who breathe the soul of Inspiration round, How soon by his the glad discovery shows!
shadows consecrate the ground ! As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,
Ah, then comes thronging many a wild desire, What answering looks of sympathy and joy!
And high imagining and thought of fire! He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word Then from within a voice exclaims - Aspire!, His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are lieard.
Phantoms, that upward point, before him pass, And ever, ever to her lap he lies,
As in the Cave athwart the Wizard's glass; When rosy Sleep comes on will sweet surprise. They, that on Youth a grace, a lustre shed, Lock'd in her arms, his arms across hier flung,
Of every Age-the living and the dead! (That name most dear for ever on his tongue)
Thou, all-accomplislied Surrey, thou art known; As with soft accents round her neck he clings,
The flower of knighthood, nipt as soon as blown! And cheek to check, her lulling song she sings, Melting all hearts but Geraldine's alone! llow blest to feel the beatings of his bicart,
And, with his beaver up, discovering there Breathe his sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart; One who loved less to conquer than lo spare,
Lo, the Black Warrior, he, who, battle-spent,
Oh in thy truth securc, thy virtuc bold,
spurs his horse against the mountain-side;
He hears me not-Those sighs were from the heart; Too, too well taught, he plays the lover's part. He who at masques, nor feigning nor sincere, With sweet discourse would win a lady's car, Lie at her feet, and on ber slipper swear That none were half so faultless, half so fair, Now through the forest lies, a stricken deer, A banish'd man, flying when none are near; And writes on every tree, and lingers long Where most the nightingale repeats her song; Where most the nymph, that haunts the silent grove, Delights to syllable the names we love.
Two on his steps attend, in motley clad ; One wocful-wan, one merrier yet as mad; Called Hope and Fear. Hope shakes his
At length he goes--a Pilgrim to the Shrine,
« Absence from Thee--as self from self it seems!»
« Am I awake? or is it-can it be
- That strain,» she cries, « as from the water rose,
She loves another! Love was in that sigh!:
Then come those full confidings of the past;
Then are they blest indeed ; and swift the hours
young Sisters wreathe ber liair in flowers, Kindling her beauty-while, unseen, the least Twitches her robe, then runs behind the rest, Known by her laugh that will not be suppress'd. Then before All they stand- the holy vow And ring of gold, no fond illusions now, Bind her as his. Across the threshold led, And every tear kiss'd off as soon as shed, His house she enters—there to be a light, Shining within, when all without is night; A guardian-angel o'cr his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing; Winning him back, when mingling in the throng, Back from a world we love, alas, too long, To fire-side happiness, to hours of ease, Blest with that charm, the certainty to please. How oft hier eyes read liis; her gentle mind To all his wislics, all bis thoughts inclined ; Still subject-ever on the watch to borrow Wirth of his mirth, and sorrow of his sorrow. The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts-touch them but rightly-pour A thousand melodics unheard before! (16)
Nor many moons o'er bill and valley rise Ere to the gate with nymph-like step she flies, And their first-born holds forth, their darling boy, With smiles how sweet, how full of love and joy, To meet him coming; theirs through every year Pure transports, such as each to each endear!
And laughing eyes and laughing voices fill
пр its harmony,
him back his words of pleasantry-
The shepherd on Tornaro's misty brow,
What then a Father's feelings? Joy and Fear
But Man is born to suffer. On the door
Whispers and sighs, and smiles all tenderness
Such grief was ours-it seems but yesterday-
pure thy spirit as from leaven it came!
At length the Father, vain his power to save,
- But hark, the din of arms! no time for sorrow.
Such golden deeds lead on to gollen days,