Volume 5 — PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1814 (continued 2)

A HUMMING BEE—a little tinkling rill— A pair of falcons wheeling on the wing, In clamorous agitation, round the crest Of a tall rock, their airy citadel— 5 By each and all of these the pensive ear Was greeted, in the silence that ensued, When through the cottage threshold we had passed, And, deep within that lonesome valley, stood Once more beneath the concave of a[211] blue 10 And cloudless sky.—Anon exclaimed our Host, Triumphantly dispersing with the taunt The shade of discontent which on his brow Had gathered,—"Ye have left my cell,—but see How Nature hems you in with friendly arms! 15 And by her help ye are my prisoners still. But which way shall I lead you?—how contrive, In spot so parsimoniously endowed, That the brief hours, which yet remain, may reap Some recompense of knowledge or delight?" 20 So saying, round he looked, as if perplexed; And, to remove those doubts, my grey-haired Friend Said—"Shall we take this pathway for our guide?— Upward it winds, as if, in summer heats, Its line had first been fashioned by the flock 25 Seeking a place of refuge[212] at the root Of yon black Yew-tree, whose protruded boughs Darken the silver bosom of the crag,[CS] From which she draws her[213] meagre sustenance. There in commodious shelter may we rest. 30 Or let us trace this streamlet to its[214] source; Feebly it tinkles with an earthy sound, And a few steps may bring us to the spot Where, haply, crowned with flowerets and green herbs, The mountain infant to the sun comes forth, 35 Like human life from darkness."—A quick turn[215] Through a strait passage of encumbered ground, Proved that such hope was vain:—for now we stood Shut out from prospect of the open vale, And saw the water, that composed this rill, 40 Descending, disembodied, and diffused O'er the smooth surface of an ample crag, Lofty, and steep, and naked as a tower. All further progress here was barred;—And who, Thought I, if master of a vacant hour, 45 Here would not linger, willingly detained? Whether to such wild objects he were led When copious rains have magnified the stream Into a loud and white-robed waterfall, Or introduced at this more quiet time. 50 Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground, The hidden nook discovered to our view A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay Right at the foot of that moist precipice, A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests 55 Fearless of winds and waves. Three several stones Stood near, of smaller size, and not unlike To monumental pillars: and, from these Some little space disjoined, a pair were seen, That with united shoulders bore aloft 60 A fragment, like an altar, flat and smooth: Barren the tablet, yet thereon appeared[216] A tall and shining holly, that[217] had found A hospitable chink, and stood upright, As if inserted by some human hand 65 In mockery, to wither in the sun, Or lay its beauty flat before a breeze, The first that entered. But no breeze did now Find entrance;—high or low appeared no trace Of motion, save the water that descended, 70 Diffused adown that barrier of steep rock, And softly creeping, like a breath of air, Such as is sometimes seen, and hardly seen, To brush the still breast of a crystal lake.[CT] "Behold a cabinet for sages built, 75 Which kings might envy!"—Praise to this effect Broke from the happy old Man's reverend lip; Who to the Solitary turned, and said, "In sooth, with love's familiar privilege, You have decried the wealth which is your own.[218] 80 Among these rocks and stones, methinks, I see More than the heedless impress that belongs To lonely nature's casual work: they bear A semblance strange of power intelligent, And of design not wholly worn away. 85 Boldest of plants that ever faced the wind, How gracefully that slender shrub looks forth From its fantastic birth-place! And I own, Some shadowy intimations haunt me here, That in these shows[219] a chronicle survives 90 Of purposes akin to those of Man,[CU] But wrought with mightier arm than now prevails. —Voiceless the stream descends into the gulf With timid lapse;—and lo! while in this strait I stand—the chasm of sky above my head 95 Is heaven's profoundest azure; no domain For fickle, short-lived clouds to occupy, Or to pass through; but rather an abyss In which the everlasting stars abide; And whose soft gloom, and boundless depth, might tempt 100 The curious eye to look for them by day.[CV] —Hail Contemplation! from the stately towers, Reared by the industrious hand of human art To lift thee high above the misty air And turbulence of murmuring cities vast; 105 From academic groves, that have for thee Been planted, hither come and find a lodge To which thou mayst resort for holier peace,— From whose calm centre thou, through height or depth, Mayst penetrate, wherever truth shall lead; 110 Measuring through all degrees, until the scale Of time and conscious nature disappear, Lost in unsearchable eternity!"[CW] A pause ensued; and with minuter care We scanned the various features of the scene: 115 And soon the Tenant of that lonely vale With courteous voice thus spake— "I should have grieved Hereafter, not escaping self-reproach,[220] If from my poor retirement ye had gone Leaving this nook unvisited: but, in sooth, 120 Your unexpected presence had so roused My spirits, that they were bent on enterprise; And, like an ardent hunter, I forgot, Or, shall I say?—disdained, the game that lurks[221] At my own door. The shapes before our eyes, 125 And their arrangement, doubtless must be deemed The sport of Nature, aided by blind Chance Rudely to mock the works of toiling Man. And hence, this upright shaft of unhewn stone, From Fancy, willing to set off her stores 130 By sounding titles, hath acquired the name Of Pompey's pillar; that I gravely style My Theban obelisk; and, there, behold A Druid cromlech!—thus I entertain The antiquarian humour, and am pleased 135 To skim along the surfaces of things, Beguiling harmlessly the listless hours. But if the spirit be oppressed by sense Of instability, revolt, decay, And change, and emptiness, these freaks of Nature 140 And her blind helper Chance, do then suffice To quicken, and to aggravate—to feed Pity and scorn, and melancholy pride, Not less than that huge Pile (from some abyss Of mortal power unquestionably sprung)[CX] 145 Whose hoary diadem of pendent rocks Confines the shrill-voiced whirlwind, round and round Eddying within its vast circumference, On Sarum's naked plain—than pyramid Of Egypt, unsubverted, undissolved— 150 Or Syria's marble ruins towering high[CY] Above the sandy desert, in the light Of sun or moon.—Forgive me, if I say That an appearance which hath raised your minds To an exalted pitch (the self-same cause 155 Different effect producing) is for me Fraught rather with depression than delight, Though shame it were, could I not look around,[222] By the reflection of your pleasure, pleased. Yet happier, in my judgment, even than you 160 With your bright transports, fairly may be deemed The wandering Herbalist,[223]—who, clear alike From vain, and, that worse evil, vexing thoughts, Casts, if he ever chance to enter here, Upon these uncouth Forms[224] a slight regard 165 Of transitory interest, and peeps round For some rare floweret of the hills, or plant Of craggy fountain; what he hopes for wins, Or learns, at least, that 'tis not to be won: Then, keen and eager, as a fine-nosed hound 170 By soul-engrossing instinct driven along Through wood or open field, the harmless Man Departs, intent upon his onward quest!— Nor is that Fellow-wanderer, so deem I, Less to be envied, (you may trace him oft 175 By scars which his activity has left Beside our roads and pathways, though, thank Heaven! This covert nook reports not of his hand) He who with pocket-hammer smites the edge Of luckless rock or prominent stone, disguised 180 In weather-stains or crusted o'er by Nature With her first growths,[225] detaching by the stroke A chip or splinter—to resolve his doubts; And, with that ready answer satisfied, The substance classes by some barbarous name, 185 And[226] hurries on; or from the fragments picks His specimen, if but haply interveined[227] With sparkling mineral, or should crystal cube Lurk in its cells—and thinks himself enriched, Wealthier, and doubtless wiser, than before! 190 Intrusted safely each to his pursuit, Earnest alike, let both from hill to hill Range;[228] if it please them, speed from clime to clime; The mind is full—and free from pain their pastime."[229] "Then," said I, interposing, "One is near, 195 Who cannot but possess in your esteem Place worthier still of envy. May I name, Without offence, that fair-faced cottage-boy? Dame Nature's pupil of the lowest form, Youngest apprentice in the school of art! 200 Him, as we entered from the open glen, You might have noticed, busily engaged, Heart, soul, and hands,—in mending the defects Left in the fabric of a leaky dam Raised[230] for enabling this penurious stream 205 To turn a slender mill (that new-made plaything) For his delight—the happiest he of all!" "Far happiest," answered the desponding Man, "If, such as now he is, he might remain! Ah! what avails imagination high 210 Or question deep? what profits all that earth, Or heaven's blue vault, is suffered to put forth Of impulse or allurement, for the Soul To quit the beaten track of life, and soar Far as she finds a yielding element 215 In past or future; far as she can go Through time or space—if neither in the one, Nor in the other region, nor in aught That Fancy, dreaming o'er the map of things, Hath placed beyond these penetrable bounds, 220 Words of assurance can be heard; if nowhere A habitation, for consummate good, Or for[231] progressive virtue, by the search Can be attained,—a better sanctuary From doubt and sorrow, than the senseless grave?" "Is this," the grey-haired Wanderer mildly said, 226 "The voice, which we so lately overheard, To that same child, addressing tenderly The consolations of a hopeful mind? 'His body is at rest, his soul in heaven.' 230 These were your words; and, verily, methinks Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop Than when we soar."— The Other, not displeased, Promptly replied—"My notion is the same. And I, without reluctance, could decline 235 All act of inquisition whence we rise, And what, when breath hath ceased, we may become. Here are we, in a bright and breathing world. Our origin, what matters it? In lack Of worthier explanation, say at once 240 With the American (a thought which suits The place where now we stand) that certain men Leapt out together from a rocky cave;[CZ] And these were the first parents of mankind: Or, if a different image be recalled 245 By the warm sunshine, and the jocund voice Of insects chirping out their careless lives On these soft beds of thyme-besprinkled turf, Choose, with the gay Athenian, a conceit As sound—blithe race! whose mantles were bedecked 250 With golden grasshoppers,[DA] in sign that they Had sprung, like those bright creatures, from the soil Whereon their endless generations dwelt.[232] But stop!—these theoretic fancies jar On serious minds: then, as the Hindoos draw[233] 255 Their holy Ganges from a skiey fount,[DB] Even so deduce the stream of human life From seats of power divine; and hope, or trust, That our existence winds her[234] stately course Beneath the sun, like Ganges, to make part 260 Of a living ocean; or, to sink engulfed,[235] Like Niger, in impenetrable sands And utter darkness:[DC] thought which may be faced, Though comfortless!— "Not of myself I speak; Such acquiescence neither doth imply, 265 In me, a meekly-bending spirit soothed By natural piety; nor a lofty mind, By philosophic discipline prepared For calm subjection to acknowledged law; Pleased to have been, contented not to be. 270 Such palms I boast not;—no! to me, who find, Reviewing my past way, much to condemn, Little to praise, and nothing to regret, (Save some remembrances of dream-like joys That scarcely seem to have belonged to me) 275 If I must take my choice between the pair That rule alternately the weary hours, Night is than day more acceptable; sleep Doth, in my estimate of good, appear A better state than waking; death than sleep: 280 Feelingly sweet is stillness after storm, Though under covert of the wormy ground! "Yet be it said, in justice to myself, That in more genial times, when I was free To explore the destiny of human kind 285 (Not as an intellectual game pursued With curious subtilty, from wish[236] to cheat Irksome sensations; but by love of truth Urged on, or haply by intense delight In feeding thought, wherever thought could feed) 290 I did not rank with those (too dull or nice, For to my judgment such they then appeared, Or too aspiring, thankless at the best) Who, in this frame of human life, perceive An object whereunto their souls are tied 295 In discontented wedlock; nor did e'er, From me, those dark impervious shades, that hang Upon the region whither we are bound, Exclude a power to enjoy the vital beams Of present sunshine.—Deities that float 300 On wings, angelic Spirits! I could muse O'er what from eldest time we have been told Of your bright forms and glorious faculties, And with the imagination rest[237] content, Not wishing more; repining not to tread 305 The little sinuous path of earthly care, By flowers embellished, and by springs refreshed.[238] —'Blow winds of autumn!—let your chilling breath Take the live herbage from the mead, and strip The shady forest of its green attire,— 310 And let the bursting clouds to fury rouse The gentle brooks!—Your desolating sway, Sheds,' I exclaimed, 'no sadness upon me,[239] And no disorder in your rage I find. What dignity, what beauty, in this change 315 From mild to angry, and from sad to gay, Alternate and revolving! How benign, How rich in animation and delight, How bountiful these elements—compared With aught, as more desirable and fair, 320 Devised by fancy for the golden age; Or the perpetual warbling that prevails In Arcady,[DE] beneath unaltered skies, Through the long year in constant quiet bound, Night hushed as night, and day serene as day!' 325 —But why this tedious record?—Age, we know, Is garrulous; and solitude is apt To anticipate the privilege of Age. From far ye come; and surely with a hope Of better entertainment:—let us hence!" 330 Loth to forsake the spot, and still more loth To be diverted from our present theme, I said, "My thoughts, agreeing, Sir, with yours, Would push this censure farther;—for, if smiles Of scornful pity be the just reward 335 Of Poesy thus courteously employed In framing models to improve the scheme Of Man's existence, and recast the world, Why should not grave Philosophy be styled, Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock, 340 A dreamer yet more spiritless and dull? Yes, shall the fine immunities she boasts[240] Establish sounder titles of esteem For her, who (all too timid and reserved For onset, for resistance too inert, 345 Too weak for suffering, and for hope too tame) Placed, among[241] flowery gardens curtained round With world-excluding groves, the brotherhood Of soft Epicureans,[DF] taught—if they The ends of being would secure, and win 350 The crown of wisdom—to yield up their souls To a voluptuous unconcern, preferring Tranquillity to all things. Or is she," I cried, "more worthy of regard, the Power, Who, for the sake of sterner quiet, closed 355 The Stoic's[DG] heart against the vain approach Of admiration, and all sense of joy?" His countenance gave notice that my zeal Accorded little with his present mind; I ceased, and he resumed.—"Ah! gentle Sir, 360 Slight, if you will, the means; but spare to slight The end of those, who did, by system, rank, As the prime object of a wise man's aim, Security from shock of accident, Release from fear; and cherished peaceful days 365 For their own sakes, as mortal life's chief good, And only reasonable felicity. What motive drew, what impulse, I would ask, Through a long course of later ages, drove The hermit to his cell in forest wide; 370 Or what detained him, till his closing eyes Took their last farewell of the sun and stars, Fast anchored in the desert?—Not alone Dread of the persecuting sword, remorse, Wrongs unredressed, or insults unavenged 375 And unavengeable, defeated pride, Prosperity subverted, maddening want, Friendship betrayed, affection unreturned, Love with despair, or grief in agony;— 379 Not always from intolerable pangs He fled; but, compassed round by pleasure, sighed For independent happiness; craving peace, The central feeling of all happiness, Not as a refuge from distress or pain, A breathing-time, vacation, or a truce, 385 But for its absolute self; a life of peace, Stability without regret or fear; That hath been, is, and shall be evermore!— Such the reward he sought; and wore out life, There, where on few external things his heart 390 Was set, and those his own; or, if not his, Subsisting under nature's stedfast law. "What other yearning was the master tie Of the monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aërial, or in green secluded vale, 395 One after one, collected from afar, An undissolving fellowship?—What but this, The universal instinct of repose, The longing for confirmed tranquillity, Inward and outward; humble, yet sublime: 400 The life where hope and memory are as one; Where earth is quiet and her face unchanged Save by the simplest toil of human hands Or seasons' difference; the immortal Soul[242] Consistent in self-rule; and heaven revealed 405 To meditation in that quietness!— Such was their scheme: and though the wished for end By multitudes was missed, perhaps attained By none, they for the attempt, and pains employed,[243] Do, in my present censure, stand redeemed 410 From the unqualified disdain, that once Would have been cast upon them by my voice Delivering her[244] decisions from the seat Of forward youth—that scruples not to solve Doubts, and determine questions, by the rules 415 Of inexperienced judgment, ever prone To overweening faith; and is inflamed, By courage, to demand from real life The test of act and suffering, to provoke Hostility—how dreadful when it comes, 420 Whether affliction be the foe, or guilt! "A child of earth, I rested, in that stage Of my past course to which these thoughts advert, Upon earth's native energies; forgetting That mine was a condition which required 425 Nor energy, nor fortitude—a calm Without vicissitude; which, if the like Had been presented to my view elsewhere, I might have even been tempted to despise. But no—for the serene[245] was also bright; 430 Enlivened happiness with joy o'erflowing, With joy, and—oh! that memory should survive To speak the word—with rapture! Nature's boon, Life's genuine inspiration, happiness Above what rules can teach, or fancy feign; 435 Abused, as all possessions are[246] abused That are not prized according to their worth. And yet, what worth? what good is given to men, More solid than the gilded clouds of heaven? What joy more lasting than a vernal flower? 440 None! 'tis the general plaint of human kind In solitude: and mutually addressed From each to all, for wisdom's sake:—This truth The priest announces from his holy seat: And, crowned with garlands in the summer grove, 445 The poet fits it to his pensive lyre. Yet, ere that final resting-place be gained, Sharp contradictions may arise, by doom Of this same life, compelling us to grieve[247] That the prosperities of love and joy 450 Should be permitted, oft-times, to endure So long, and be at once cast down for ever. Oh! tremble, ye, to whom hath been assigned A course of days composing happy months, And they as happy years; the present still 455 So like the past, and both so firm a pledge Of a congenial future, that the wheels Of pleasure move without the aid of hope: For Mutability is Nature's bane; And slighted Hope will[248] be avenged; and, when 460 Ye need her favours, ye shall find her not; But in her stead—fear—doubt—and agony!" This was the bitter language of the heart: But, while he spake, look, gesture, tone of voice, Though discomposed and vehement, were such 465 As skill and graceful nature might suggest To a proficient of the tragic scene Standing before the multitude, beset With dark events. Desirous to divert[249] Or stem the current of the speaker's thoughts, 470 We signified a wish to leave that place Of stillness and close privacy, a nook That seemed for self-examination made;[250] Or, for confession, in the sinner's need, Hidden from all men's view.[DH] To our attempt 475 He yielded not; but, pointing to a slope Of mossy turf defended from the sun, And on that couch inviting us to rest, Full on[251] that tender-hearted Man he turned A serious eye, and his speech thus[252] renewed. 480 "You never saw, your eyes did never look On the bright form of Her whom once I loved:— Her silver voice was heard upon the earth, A sound unknown to you; else, honoured Friend! Your heart had borne a pitiable share 485 Of what I suffered, when I wept that loss, And suffer now, not seldom, from the thought That I remember, and can weep no more.— Stripped as I am of all the golden fruit Of self-esteem; and by the cutting blasts 490 Of self-reproach familiarly assailed; Yet would I not be[253] of such wintry bareness But that some leaf of your regard should hang Upon my naked branches:—lively thoughts Give birth, full often, to unguarded words; 495 I grieve that, in your presence, from my tongue Too much of frailty hath already dropped; But that too much demands still more. "You know, Revered Compatriot—and to you, kind Sir, (Not to be deemed a stranger, as you come 500 Following the guidance of these welcome feet To our secluded vale) it may be told— That my demerits did not sue in vain To One on whose mild radiance many gazed With hope, and all with pleasure. This fair Bride— 505 In the devotedness of youthful love, Preferring me to parents, and the choir Of gay companions, to the natal roof, And all known places and familiar sights (Resigned with sadness gently weighing down 510 Her trembling expectations, but no more Than did to her due honour, and to me Yielded, that day, a confidence sublime In what I had to build upon)—this Bride, Young, modest, meek, and beautiful, I led 515 To a low cottage in a sunny bay, Where the salt sea innocuously breaks, And the sea breeze as innocently breathes, On Devon's leafy shores;[DI]—a sheltered hold, In a soft clime encouraging the soil 520 To a luxuriant bounty!—As our steps Approach the embowered abode—our chosen seat— See, rooted in the earth, her[254] kindly bed, The unendangered myrtle, decked with flowers, Before the threshold stands to welcome us! 525 While, in the flowering myrtle's neighbourhood, Not overlooked but courting no regard, Those native plants, the holly and the yew, Gave modest intimation to the mind How willingly their aid[255] they would unite 530 With the green myrtle, to endear the hours Of winter, and protect that pleasant place. —Wild were the walks upon those lonely Downs,[A] Track leading into track; how marked, how worn Into bright verdure, between fern and gorse, 535 Winding away its never ending line On their smooth surface, evidence was none: But, there, lay open to our daily haunt A range of unappropriated earth, Where youth's ambitious feet might move at large; 540 Whence, unmolested wanderers, we beheld The shining giver of the day diffuse His brightness o'er a tract of sea and land Gay as our spirits, free as our desires; As our enjoyments, boundless.—From those heights 545 We dropped, at pleasure, into sylvan combs;[DJ] Where arbours of impenetrable shade, And mossy seats, detained us side by side, With hearts at ease, and knowledge in our hearts 'That all the grove and all the day was ours.' 550 "O happy time! still happier was at hand; For Nature called my Partner to resign Her share in the pure freedom of that life,[256] Enjoyed by us in common.—To my hope, To my heart's wish, my tender Mate became 555 The thankful captive of maternal bonds; And those wild paths were left to me alone. There could I meditate on follies past; And, like a weary voyager escaped From risk and hardship, inwardly retrace 560 A course of vain delights and thoughtless guilt, And self-indulgence—without shame pursued. There, undisturbed, could think of and could thank Her whose submissive spirit was to me Rule and restraint—my guardian—shall I say 565 That earthly Providence, whose guiding love Within a port of rest had lodged me safe; Safe from temptation, and from danger far? Strains followed of acknowledgment addressed 569 To an Authority enthroned above The reach of sight; from whom, as from their source, Proceed all visible ministers of good That walk the earth—Father of heaven and earth, Father, and king, and judge, adored and feared! These acts of mind, and memory, and heart, 575 And spirit—interrupted and relieved By observations transient as the glance Of flying sunbeams, or to the outward form Cleaving with power inherent and intense, 579 As the mute insect fixed upon the plant On whose soft leaves it hangs, and from whose cup It draws its nourishment imperceptibly—[257] Endeared my wanderings; and the mother's kiss And infant's smile awaited my return. "In privacy we dwelt, a wedded pair, 585 Companions daily, often all day long; Not placed by fortune within easy reach Of various intercourse, nor wishing aught Beyond the allowance of our own fire-side, The twain within our happy cottage born, 590 Inmates, and heirs of our united love; Graced mutually by difference of sex, And with[258] no wider interval of time Between their several births than served for one To establish something of a leader's sway; 595 Yet left them joined by sympathy in age; Equals in pleasure, fellows in pursuit. On these two pillars rested as in air Our solitude. "It soothes me to perceive, Your courtesy withholds not from my words 600 Attentive audience. But, oh! gentle Friends, As times of quiet and unbroken peace, Though, for a nation, times of blessedness, Give back faint echoes from the historian's page; So, in the imperfect sounds of this discourse, 605 Depressed I hear, how faithless is the voice Which those most blissful days reverberate. What special record can, or need, be given To rules and habits, whereby much was done, But all within the sphere of little things; 610 Of humble, though, to us, important cares, And precious interests? Smoothly did our life Advance, swerving not[259] from the path prescribed; Her annual, her diurnal, round alike Maintained with faithful care. And you divine 615 The worst effects that[260] our condition saw If you imagine changes slowly wrought, And in their progress[261] unperceivable;[262] Not wished for; sometimes noticed with a sigh, (Whate'er of good or lovely they might bring) 620 Sighs of regret, for the familiar good And loveliness endeared which they removed. "Seven years of occupation undisturbed Established seemingly a right to hold That happiness; and use and habit gave 625 To what an alien spirit had acquired A patrimonial sanctity. And thus, With thoughts and wishes bounded to this world, I lived and breathed; most grateful—if to enjoy Without repining or desire for more, 630 For different lot, or change to higher sphere, (Only except some impulses of pride With no determined object, though upheld By theories with suitable support)— Most grateful, if in such wise to enjoy 635 Be proof of gratitude for what we have; Else, I allow, most thankless.—But, at once, From some dark seat of fatal power was urged A claim that shattered all.—Our blooming girl, Caught in the gripe of death, with such brief time 640 To struggle in as scarcely would allow Her cheek to change its colour, was conveyed From us to inaccessible worlds, to regions[263] Where height, or depth, admits not the approach Of living man, though longing to pursue. 645 —With even as brief a warning—and how soon, With what short interval of time between, I tremble yet to think of—our last prop, Our happy life's only remaining stay— The brother followed; and was seen no more![DK] 650 "Calm as a frozen lake when ruthless winds Blow fiercely, agitating earth and sky, The Mother now remained; as if in her, Who, to the lowest region of the soul, Had been erewhile unsettled and disturbed, 655 This second visitation had no power To shake; but only to bind up and seal; And to establish thankfulness of heart In Heaven's determinations, ever just. The eminence whereon[264] her spirit stood, 660 Mine was unable to attain. Immense The space that severed us! But, as the sight Communicates with heaven's ethereal orbs Incalculably distant; so, I felt That consolation may descend from far 665 (And that is intercourse, and union, too,) While, overcome with speechless gratitude, And, with a holier love inspired, I looked On her—at once superior to my woes And partner of my loss.—O heavy change! 670 Dimness o'er this clear luminary crept Insensibly;—the immortal and divine Yielded to mortal reflux; her pure glory, As from the pinnacle of worldly state Wretched ambition drops astounded, fell 675 Into a gulf obscure of silent grief, And keen heart-anguish—of itself ashamed, Yet obstinately cherishing itself: And, so consumed, she melted from my arms; And left me, on this earth, disconsolate! 680 "What followed cannot be reviewed in thought; Much less, retraced in words. If she, of life Blameless, so intimate with love and joy And all the tender motions of the soul, Had been supplanted, could I hope to stand— 685 Infirm, dependent, and now destitute? I called on dreams and visions, to disclose That which is veiled from waking thought; conjured Eternity, as men constrain a ghost To appear and answer; to the grave I spake 690 Imploringly;—looked up, and asked the Heavens If Angels traversed their cerulean floors, If fixed or wandering star could tidings yield Of the departed spirit—what abode It occupies—what consciousness retains 695 Of former loves and interests. Then my soul Turned inward,—to examine of what stuff Time's fetters are composed; and life was put To inquisition, long and profitless! By pain of heart—now checked—and now impelled— 700 The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way![DL] And from those transports, and these toils abstruse, Some trace am I enabled to retain Of time, else lost;—existing unto me 705 Only by records in myself not found. "From that abstraction I was roused,—and how? Even as a thoughtful shepherd by a flash Of lightning startled in a gloomy cave Of these wild hills. For, lo! the dread Bastile,[DM] 710 With all the chambers in its horrid towers, Fell to the ground:—by violence overthrown Of indignation; and with shouts that drowned The crash it made in falling! From the wreck A golden palace rose, or seemed to rise, 715 The appointed seat of equitable law And mild paternal sway. The potent shock I felt: the transformation I perceived, As marvellously seized as in that moment When, from the blind mist issuing, I beheld 720 Glory—beyond all glory ever seen, Confusion infinite of heaven and earth, Dazzling the soul. Meanwhile, prophetic harps In every grove were ringing, 'War shall cease; Did ye not hear that conquest is abjured? 725 Bring garlands, bring forth choicest flowers, to deck The tree of Liberty.'[DN]—My heart rebounded; My melancholy voice the chorus joined; —'Be joyful all ye nations; in all lands, Ye that are capable of joy be glad! 730 Henceforth, whate'er is wanting to yourselves In others ye shall promptly find;—and all, Enriched by mutual and reflected wealth, Shall with one heart honour their common kind.'[265] "Thus was I reconverted to the world; 735 Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.—From the depths Of natural passion, seemingly escaped, My soul diffused herself[266] in wide embrace Of institutions, and the forms of things, 740 As they exist, in mutable array, Upon life's surface. What, though in my veins There flowed no Gallic blood, nor had I breathed The air of France, not less than Gallic zeal Kindled and burnt among the sapless twigs 745 Of my exhausted heart. If busy men In sober conclave met, to weave a web Of amity, whose living threads should stretch Beyond the seas, and to the farthest pole, There did I sit, assisting. If, with noise 750 And acclamation, crowds in open air Expressed the tumult of their minds, my voice There mingled, heard or not. The powers of song I left not uninvoked; and, in still groves, Where mild enthusiasts tuned a pensive lay 755 Of thanks and expectation, in accord With their belief, I sang Saturnian rule Returned,—a progeny of golden years Permitted to descend, and bless mankind. —With promises the Hebrew Scriptures teem: 760 I felt their[267] invitation; and resumed A long-suspended office in the House Of public worship, where, the glowing phrase Of ancient inspiration serving me, I promised also,—with undaunted trust 765 Foretold, and added prayer to prophecy; The admiration winning of the crowd; The help desiring of the pure devout. "Scorn and contempt forbid me to proceed! But History, time's slavish scribe, will tell 770 How rapidly the zealots of the cause Disbanded—or in hostile ranks appeared; Some, tired of honest service; these, outdone, Disgusted therefore, or appalled, by aims Of fiercer zealots—so confusion reigned, 775 And the more faithful were compelled to exclaim, As Brutus did to Virtue, 'Liberty, I worshipped thee, and find thee but a Shade!'[DO] "Such recantation had for me no charm, Nor would I bend to it; who should have grieved 780 At aught, however fair, that[268] bore the mien Of a conclusion, or catastrophe. Why then conceal, that, when the simply[269] good In timid selfishness withdrew, I sought Other support, not scrupulous whence it came; 785 And, by what compromise it stood, not nice? Enough if notions seemed to be high-pitched, And qualities determined.—Among men So charactered did I maintain a strife[270] Hopeless, and still more hopeless every hour; 790 But, in the process, I began to feel That, if the emancipation of the world Were missed, I should at least secure my own, And be in part compensated. For rights, Widely—inveterately usurped upon, 795 I spake with vehemence; and promptly seized All that[271] Abstraction furnished for my needs Or purposes;[DP] nor scrupled to proclaim, And propagate, by liberty of life, Those new persuasions. Not that I rejoiced, 800 Or even found pleasure, in such vagrant course, For its own sake; but farthest from the walk Which I had trod in happiness and peace, Was most inviting to a troubled mind; That, in a struggling and distempered world, 805 Saw a seductive image of herself.[272] Yet, mark the contradictions of which Man Is still the sport! Here Nature was my guide, The Nature of the dissolute; but thee, O fostering Nature! I rejected—smiled 810 At others' tears in pity; and in scorn At those, which thy soft influence sometimes drew From my unguarded heart.—The tranquil shores Of Britain circumscribed me; else, perhaps I might have been entangled among deeds, 815 Which, now, as infamous, I should abhor— Despise, as senseless: for my spirit relished Strangely the exasperation of that Land, Which turned an angry beak against the down Of her own breast; confounded into hope 820 Of disencumbering thus her fretful wings.[273] "But all was quieted by iron bonds Of military sway. The shifting aims, The moral interests, the creative might, The varied functions and high attributes 825 Of civil action, yielded to a power Formal, and odious, and contemptible. —In Britain, ruled a panic dread of change; The weak were praised, rewarded, and advanced; And, from the impulse of a just disdain, 830 Once more did I retire into myself. There feeling no contentment, I resolved To fly, for safeguard, to some foreign shore, Remote from Europe; from her blasted hopes; 834 Her fields of carnage, and polluted air. "Fresh blew the wind, when o'er the Atlantic Main The ship went gliding with her thoughtless crew; And who among them but an Exile, freed From discontent, indifferent, pleased to sit Among the busily-employed, not more 840 With obligation charged, with service taxed, Than the loose pendant—to the idle wind Upon the tall mast streaming. But, ye Powers Of soul and sense mysteriously allied, O, never let the Wretched, if a choice 845 Be left him, trust the freight of his distress To a long voyage on the silent deep! For, like a plague, will memory break out; And, in the blank and solitude of things, Upon his spirit, with a fever's strength, 850 Will conscience prey.—Feebly must they have felt Who, in old time, attired with snakes and whips The vengeful Furies. Beautiful regards Were turned on me—the face of her I loved; The Wife and Mother pitifully fixing 855 Tender reproaches, insupportable! Where now that boasted liberty? No welcome From unknown objects I received; and those, Known and familiar, which the vaulted sky Did, in the placid clearness of the night, 860 Disclose, had accusations to prefer Against my peace. Within the cabin stood That volume—as a compass for the soul— Revered among the nations. I implored Its guidance; but the infallible support 865 Of faith was wanting. Tell me, why refused To One by storms annoyed and adverse winds; Perplexed with currents; of his weakness sick; Of vain endeavours tired; and by his own, 869 And by his nature's, ignorance, dismayed! "Long wished-for sight, the Western World appeared; And, when the ship was moored, I leaped ashore Indignantly—resolved to be a man, Who, having o'er the past no power, would live No longer in subjection to the past, 875 With abject mind—from a tyrannic lord Inviting penance, fruitlessly endured: So, like a fugitive, whose feet have cleared Some boundary, which his followers may not cross In prosecution of their deadly chase, 880 Respiring I looked round.—How bright the sun, The breeze how soft! Can any thing produced[274] In the old World compare, thought I, for power And majesty with this gigantic stream, 884 Sprung from the desert?[DQ] And behold a city Fresh, youthful, and aspiring![DR] What are these To me, or I to them? As much at least As he desires that they should be, whom winds And waves have wafted to this distant shore, In the condition of a damaged seed, 890 Whose fibres cannot, if they would, take root. Here may I roam at large;—my business is, Roaming at large, to observe, and not to feel And, therefore, not to act—convinced that all Which bears the name of action, howsoe'er 895 Beginning, ends in servitude—still painful, And mostly profitless. And, sooth to say, On nearer view, a motley spectacle Appeared, of high pretensions—unreproved But by the obstreperous voice of higher still; 900 Big passions strutting on a petty stage; Which a detached spectator may regard Not unamused.—But ridicule demands Quick change of objects; and, to laugh alone, At a composing distance[275] from the haunts 905 Of strife and folly, though it be a treat As choice as musing Leisure can bestow; Yet, in the very centre of the crowd, To keep the secret of a poignant scorn, Howe'er to airy Demons suitable, 910 Of all unsocial courses, is least fit[276] For the gross spirit of mankind,—the one That soonest fails to please, and quickliest turns Into vexation. "Let us, then, I said, Leave this unknit Republic to the scourge 915 Of her[277] own passions; and to regions haste, Whose shades have never felt the encroaching axe, Or soil endured a transfer in the mart Of dire rapacity. There, Man abides, Primeval Nature's child. A creature weak 920 In combination, (wherefore else driven back So far, and of his old inheritance So easily deprived?) but, for that cause, More dignified, and stronger in himself; Whether to act, judge, suffer, or enjoy. 925 True, the intelligence of social art Hath overpowered his forefathers, and soon Will sweep the remnant of his line away; But contemplations, worthier, nobler far Than her destructive energies, attend 930 His independence, when along the side Of Mississippi, or that northern stream[DS] That[278] spreads into successive seas,[DT] he walks; Pleased to perceive his own unshackled life, And his innate capacities of soul, 935 There imaged: or when, having gained the top Of some commanding eminence, which yet Intruder ne'er beheld, he thence surveys Regions of wood and wide savannah, vast Expanse of unappropriated earth, 940 With mind that sheds a light on what he sees; Free as the sun, and lonely as the sun, Pouring above his head its radiance down Upon a living and rejoicing world! "So, westward, tow'rd the unviolated woods 945 I bent my way; and, roaming far and wide, Failed not to greet the merry Mocking-bird;[DU] And, while the melancholy Muccawiss (The sportive bird's companion in the grove) Repeated, o'er and o'er, his plaintive cry,[DV] 950 I sympathised at leisure with the sound; But that pure archetype of human greatness, I found him not. There, in his stead, appeared A creature, squalid, vengeful, and impure; Remorseless, and submissive to no law 955 But superstitious fear, and abject sloth. "Enough is told! Here am I—ye have heard What evidence I seek, and vainly seek; What from my fellow-beings I require, And either they have not to give, or I 960 Lack virtue to receive; what I myself, Too oft by wilful forfeiture, have lost[279] Nor can regain. How languidly I look Upon this visible fabric of the world, May be divined—perhaps it hath been said:— 965 But spare your pity, if there be in me Aught that deserves respect: for I exist, Within myself, not comfortless.—The tenour Which my life holds, he readily may conceive Whoe'er hath stood to watch a mountain brook 970 In some still passage of its course, and seen, Within the depths of its capacious breast, Inverted trees, rocks, clouds, and azure sky;[280] And, on its glassy surface, specks of foam, And conglobated bubbles undissolved, 975 Numerous as stars; that, by their onward lapse, Betray to sight the motion of the stream, Else imperceptible. Meanwhile, is heard A softened roar, or murmur;[281] and the sound Though soothing, and the little floating isles 980 Though beautiful, are both by Nature charged With the same pensive office; and make known Through what perplexing labyrinths, abrupt Precipitations, and untoward straits, The earth-born wanderer hath passed; and quickly, 985 That respite o'er, like traverses and toils Must he again encounter.[282]—Such a stream Is human Life; and so the Spirit fares In the best quiet to her[283] course allowed; And such is mine,—save only for a hope 990 That my particular current soon will reach The unfathomable gulf, where all is still!"

HERE closed the Tenant of that lonely vale His mournful narrative—commenced in pain, In pain commenced, and ended without peace: Yet tempered, not unfrequently, with strains 5 Of native feeling, grateful to our minds; And yielding surely[306] some relief to his, While we sate listening with compassion due. A pause of silence followed; then, with voice That did not falter though the heart was moved,[307] The Wanderer said:— 10 "One adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists—one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being 15 Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good. —The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified 20 By acquiescence in the Will supreme For time and for eternity; by faith, Faith absolute in God, including hope, And the defence that lies in boundless love Of his perfections; with habitual dread 25 Of aught unworthily conceived, endured Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone, To the dishonour of his holy name. Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world! Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart; 30 Restore their languid spirits, and recal Their lost affections unto thee and thine!"[DW] Then, as we issued from that covert nook, He thus continued, lifting up his eyes To heaven:—"How beautiful this dome of sky; 35 And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul, Human and rational, report of thee Even less than these?—Be mute who will, who can, Yet I will praise thee with impassioned voice: 40 My lips, that may forgot[*printer's error?] thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here; where thou hast built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness! Me didst thou constitute a priest of thine, In such a temple as we now behold 45 Reared for thy presence: therefore, am I bound To worship, here, and every where—as one Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty; From unreflecting ignorance preserved, 50 And from debasement rescued.—By thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched; And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From paradise transplanted: wintry age 55 Impends; the frost will gather round my heart; If the flowers wither,[308] I am worse than dead! —Come, labour, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want; And sad exclusion through decay of sense; 60 But leave me unabated trust in thee— And let thy favour, to the end of life, Inspire me with ability to seek Repose and hope among eternal things— Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich, 65 And will possess my portion in content! "And what are things eternal?—powers depart," The grey-haired Wanderer stedfastly replied, Answering the question which himself had asked, "Possessions vanish, and opinions change, 70 And passions hold a fluctuating seat: But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor[309] wane, Duty exists;—immutably survive, For our support, the measures and the forms, 75 Which an abstract intelligence supplies; Whose kingdom is, where time and space are not.[DX] Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart, Do, with united urgency, require, What more that may not perish?—Thou, dread source, 80 Prime, self-existing cause and end of all That in the scale of being fill their place; Above our human region, or below, Set and sustained;—thou, who didst wrap the cloud Of infancy around us, that thyself, 85 Therein, with our simplicity awhile Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed;[DY] Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, 90 Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense And reason's stedfast rule—thou, thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the sea her waves: For adoration thou endur'st; endure 95 For consciousness the motions of thy will; For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty! 100 This universe shall pass away—a work[310] Glorious! because the shadow of thy might, A step, or link, for intercourse with thee. Ah! if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where meditation leads, 105 By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these; the unimprisoned Mind May yet have scope to range among her own, Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, 110 Still, it may be allowed me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul In youth were mine; when, stationed on the top Of some huge hill—expectant, I beheld The sun rise up,[DZ] from distant climes returned 115 Darkness to chase, and sleep; and bring the day His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the deep[311] Sink, with a retinue of flaming clouds Attended; then, my spirit was entranced With joy exalted to beatitude;[EA] 120 The measure of my soul was filled with bliss, And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence! "Those fervent raptures are for ever flown;[EB] And, since their date, my soul hath undergone 125 Change manifold, for better or for worse: Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire[312] Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags, Through sinful choice; or dread necessity On human nature from above imposed. 130 'Tis, by comparison, an easy task Earth to despise;[EC] but, to converse with heaven— This is not easy:—to relinquish all We have, or hope, of happiness and joy, And stand in freedom loosened from this world, 135 I deem not arduous; but must needs confess That 'tis a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the soul's desires; And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. 140 —Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his, Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke, That with majestic energy from earth Rises; but, having reached the thinner air, 145 Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen. From this infirmity of mortal kind Sorrow proceeds, which else were not; at least, If grief be something hallowed and ordained, If, in proportion, it be just and meet, 150 Yet, through this weakness of the general heart, Is it enabled to maintain its hold[313] In that excess which conscience disapproves. For who could sink and settle to that point Of selfishness; so senseless who could be 155 As long[314] and perseveringly to mourn For any object of his love, removed From this unstable world, if he could fix A satisfying view upon that state Of pure, imperishable, blessedness, 160 Which reason promises, and holy writ Ensures to all believers?—Yet mistrust Is of such incapacity, methinks, No natural branch; despondency far less;[315] 164 And, least of all, is absolute despair.[316] —And, if there be whose tender frames have drooped Even to the dust; apparently, through weight Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power An agonizing sorrow to transmute; Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld[317] 170 When wanted most; a confidence impaired So pitiably, that, having ceased to see With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love Of what is lost, and perish through regret. Oh! no, the innocent Sufferer often sees[318] 175 Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs To realize the vision, with intense And over-constant yearning;—there—there lies The excess, by which the balance is destroyed. Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh, 180 This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs, Though inconceivably endowed, too dim For any passion of the soul that leads To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths Of time and change disdaining, takes its course 185 Along the line of limitless desires. I, speaking now from such disorder free, Nor rapt, nor craving, but in settled peace, I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake 190 From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. Hope, below this, consists not with belief In mercy, carried infinite degrees Beyond the tenderness of human hearts: Hope, below this, consists not with belief 195 In perfect wisdom, guiding mightiest power, That finds no limits but her own pure will.[319] "Here then we rest; not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve, To unsettle or perplex it:[320] yet with pain 200 Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach, That, though immovably convinced, we want Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas. 205 Alas! the endowment of immortal power Is matched unequally with custom, time,[ED] And domineering faculties of sense In all; in most with superadded foes, Idle temptations; open vanities, 210 Ephemeral offspring[321] of the unblushing world; And, in the private regions of the mind, Ill-governed passions, ranklings of despite, Immoderate wishes, pining discontent, Distress and care. What then remains?—To seek 215 Those helps for his occasions ever near Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renewed On the first motion of a holy thought; Vigils of contemplation; praise; and prayer— A stream, which, from the fountain of the heart 220 Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows Without access of unexpected strength. But, above all, the victory is most sure For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to the law 225 Of conscience—conscience reverenced and obeyed, As God's most intimate presence in the soul, And his most perfect image in the world. —Endeavour thus to live; these rules regard; These helps solicit; and a stedfast seat 230 Shall then be yours among the happy few Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air, Sons of the morning.[EE] For your nobler part, Ere disencumbered of her mortal chains, Doubt shall be quelled and trouble chased away; 235 With only such degree of sadness left As may support longings of pure desire; And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly In the sublime attractions of the grave." While, in this strain, the venerable Sage 240 Poured forth his aspirations, and announced His judgments, near that lonely house we paced A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved By nature's care from wreck of scattered stones, And from encroachment[322] of encircling heath: 245 Small space! but, for reiterated steps, Smooth and commodious; as a stately deck Which to and fro the mariner is used To tread for pastime, talking with his mates, Or haply thinking of far-distant friends, 250 While the ship glides before a steady breeze. Stillness prevailed around us: and the voice That spake was capable to lift the soul Toward[323] regions yet more tranquil. But, methought, That he, whose fixed despondency had given 255 Impulse and motive to that strong discourse, Was less upraised in spirit than abashed; Shrinking from admonition, like a man Who feels that to exhort is to reproach. Yet not to be diverted from his aim, The Sage continued:— 260 "For that other loss, The loss of confidence in social man, By the unexpected transports of our age Carried so high, that every thought, which looked Beyond the temporal destiny of the Kind, 265 To many seemed superfluous—as, no cause Could e'er for such exalted confidence[324] Exist; so, none is now for fixed[325] despair: The two extremes are equally disowned By reason: if, with sharp recoil, from one 270 You have been driven far as its opposite, Between them seek the point whereon to build Sound expectations. So doth he advise[326] Who shared at first the illusion; but was soon Cast from the pedestal of pride by shocks 275 Which Nature gently gave, in woods and fields; Nor unreproved by Providence, thus speaking To the inattentive children of the world: 'Vain-glorious Generation! what new powers On you have been conferred? what gifts, withheld 280 From your progenitors, have ye received, Fit recompense of new desert? what claim Are ye prepared to urge, that my decrees For you should undergo a sudden change; And the weak functions of one busy day, 285 Reclaiming and extirpating, perform What all the slowly-moving years of time, With their united force, have left undone? By nature's gradual processes be taught; By story be confounded! Ye aspire 290 Rashly, to fall once more; and that false fruit, Which, to your over-weening spirits, yields Hope of a flight celestial, will produce[327] Misery and shame. But Wisdom of her sons 294 Shall not the less, though late, be justified.'[EF] "Such timely warning," said the Wanderer, "gave That visionary voice; and, at this day, When a Tartarean darkness overspreads The groaning nations; when the impious rule, By will or by established ordinance, 300 Their own dire agents, and constrain the good To acts which they abhor; though I bewail This triumph, yet the pity of my heart Prevents me not from owning, that the law, By which mankind now suffers, is most just. 305 For by superior energies; more strict Affiance in each other; faith more firm In their unhallowed principles; the bad Have fairly earned a victory o'er the weak, The vacillating, inconsistent good. 310 Therefore, not unconsoled, I wait—in hope To see the moment, when the righteous cause Shall gain defenders zealous and devout As they who have opposed her; in which Virtue Will, to her efforts, tolerate no bounds 315 That are not lofty as her rights; aspiring By impulse of her own ethereal zeal. That spirit only can redeem mankind; And when that sacred spirit shall appear, Then shall our triumph be complete as theirs. 320 Yet, should this confidence prove vain, the wise Have still the keeping of their proper peace; Are guardians of their own tranquillity. They act, or they recede, observe, and feel; 'Knowing[328] the heart of man is set to be[EG] 325 The centre of this world, about the which Those revolutions of disturbances Still roll; where all the aspècts of misery Predominate; whose strong effects are such As he must bear, being powerless to redress; 330 And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is Man!'[EH] "Happy is he who lives to understand, Not human nature only, but explores All natures,—to the end that he may find 335 The law that governs each; and where begins The union, the partition where, that makes Kind and degree, among all visible Beings; The constitutions, powers, and faculties, Which they inherit,—cannot step beyond,— 340 And cannot fall beneath; that do assign To every class its station and its office, Through all the mighty commonwealth of things Up from the creeping plant to sovereign Man. Such converse, if directed by a meek, 345 Sincere, and humble spirit, teaches love: For knowledge is delight; and such delight Breeds love: yet, suited as it rather is To thought and to the climbing intellect, It teaches less to love, than to adore; 350 If that be not indeed the highest love!" "Yet," said I, tempted here to interpose, "The dignity of life is not impaired By aught that innocently satisfies The humbler cravings of the heart; and he 355 Is a still happier man, who, for those heights Of speculation not unfit, descends; And such benign affections cultivates Among the inferior kinds; not merely those That he may call his own, and which depend, 360 As individual objects of regard, Upon his care, from whom he also looks For signs and tokens of a mutual bond; But others, far beyond this narrow sphere, Whom, for the very sake of love, he loves. 365 Nor is it a mean praise of rural life And solitude, that they do favour most, Most frequently call forth, and best sustain, These pure sensations; that can penetrate The obstreperous city; on the barren seas 370 Are not unfelt; and much might recommend, How much they might inspirit and endear, The loneliness of this sublime retreat!" "Yes," said the Sage, resuming the discourse Again directed to his downcast Friend, 375 "If, with the froward will and grovelling soul Of man, offended, liberty is here, And invitation every hour renewed, To mark their placid state, who never heard Of a command which they have power to break, 380 Or rule which they are tempted to transgress: These, with a soothed or elevated heart, May we behold; their knowledge register; Observe their ways; and, free from envy, find Complacence there:—but wherefore this to you? 385 I guess that, welcome to your lonely hearth, The redbreast, ruffled up by winter's cold Into a 'feathery bunch,' feeds at your hand:[329] A box, perchance, is from your casement hung For the small wren to build in;—not in vain, 390 The barriers disregarding that surround This deep abiding place, before your sight Mounts on the breeze the butterfly; and soars, Small creature as she is, from earth's bright flowers, Into the dewy clouds. Ambition reigns 395 In the waste wilderness: the Soul ascends Drawn towards her native firmament of heaven,[330] When the fresh eagle, in the month of May, Upborne, at evening, on replenished wing, This shaded valley leaves;[331][EI] and leaves the dark 400 Empurpled hills, conspicuously renewing A proud communication with the sun Low sunk beneath the horizon!—List!—I heard, From yon huge breast of rock, a voice sent forth[332] As if the visible mountain made the cry. 405 Again!"—The effect upon the soul was such As he expressed: from out the mountain's heart The solemn voice appeared to issue, startling The blank air—for the region all around Stood empty of all shape of life, and silent 410 Save for that single cry, the unanswer'd bleat Of a poor lamb—left somewhere to itself,[333] The plaintive spirit of the solitude![EJ] He paused, as if unwilling to proceed, Through consciousness that silence in such place 415 Was best, the most affecting eloquence. But soon his thoughts returned upon themselves, And, in soft tone of speech, thus he[334] resumed. "Ah! if the heart, too confidently raised, Perchance too lightly occupied, or lulled 420 Too easily, despise or overlook The vassalage that binds her to the earth, Her sad dependence upon time, and all The trepidations of mortality, What place so destitute and void—but there 425 The little flower her vanity shall check; The trailing worm reprove her thoughtless pride? "These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds, Does that benignity pervade, that warms The mole contented with her darksome walk 430 In the cold ground; and to the emmet gives Her foresight, and intelligence[335] that makes The tiny creatures strong by social league; Supports the generations, multiplies Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain 435 Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills— Their labour, covered, as a lake with waves;[EK] Thousands of cities, in the desert place Built up of life, and food, and means of life! Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought, 440 Creatures that in communities exist, Less, as might seem, for general guardianship Or through dependence upon mutual aid, Than by participation of delight And a strict love of fellowship, combined. 445 What other spirit can it be that prompts The gilded summer flies to mix and weave Their sports together in the solar beam, Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy? 449 More obviously the self-same influence rules The feathered kinds; the fieldfare's pensive flock,[336][EL] The cawing rooks, and sea-mews from afar, Hovering above these inland solitudes, By the rough wind unscattered, at whose call Up through the trenches of the long-drawn vales 455 Their voyage was begun:[337] nor is its power Unfelt among the sedentary fowl That seek yon pool,[EM] and there prolong their stay In silent congress; or together roused Take flight; while with their clang the air resounds. 460 And, over all, in that ethereal vault,[338] Is the mute company of changeful clouds; Bright apparition, suddenly put forth, The rainbow smiling on the faded storm; The mild assemblage of the starry heavens; 465 And the great sun, earth's universal lord! "How bountiful is Nature! he shall find Who seeks not; and to him, who hath not asked, Large measure shall be dealt. Three sabbath-days Are scarcely told, since, on a service bent 470 Of mere humanity, you clomb those heights; And what a marvellous and heavenly show Was suddenly revealed![339]—the swains moved on, And heeded not: you lingered, you perceived And felt, deeply as living man could feel. 475 There is a luxury[340] in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast. Trust me, pronouncing on your own desert, You judge unthankfully: distempered nerves 480 Infect the thoughts: the languor of the frame Depresses the soul's vigour. Quit your couch— Cleave not so fondly to your moody cell; Nor let the hallowed powers, that shed from heaven Stillness and rest, with disapproving eye 485 Look down upon your taper, through a watch Of midnight hours, unseasonably twinkling In this deep Hollow, like a sullen star Dimly reflected in a lonely pool. Take courage, and withdraw yourself from ways 490 That run not parallel to nature's course. Rise with the lark! your matins shall obtain Grace, be their composition what it may, If but with hers performed;[EN] climb once again, Climb every day, those ramparts;[EO] meet the breeze 495 Upon their tops, adventurous as a bee That from your garden thither soars, to feed On new-blown heath; let yon commanding rock Be your frequented watch-tower; roll the stone In thunder down the mountains; with all your might 500 Chase the wild goat; and if the bold red deer Fly to those[341] harbours, driven by hound and horn Loud echoing, add your speed to the pursuit; So, wearied to your hut shall you return, And sink at evening into sound repose." 505 The Solitary lifted toward[342] the hills A kindling eye:—accordant feelings rushed Into my bosom, whence these words broke forth:[343] "Oh! what a joy it were, in vigorous health, To have a body (this our vital frame 510 With shrinking sensibility endued, And all the nice regards of flesh and blood) And to the elements surrender it As if it were a spirit!—How divine, The liberty, for frail, for mortal, man 515 To roam at large among unpeopled glens And mountainous retirements, only trod By devious footsteps; regions consecrate To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm That keeps the raven quiet in her nest, 520 Be as a presence or a motion—one Among the many there; and while the mists Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes And phantoms from the crags and solid earth As fast as a musician scatters sounds 525 Out of an instrument; and while the streams (As at a first creation and in haste To exercise their untried faculties) Descending from the region of the clouds, And starting from the hollows of the earth 530 More multitudinous every moment, rend Their way before them—what a joy to roam An equal among mightiest energies; And haply sometimes with articulate voice, Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard 535 By him that utters it, exclaim aloud, 'Rage on ye elements! let moon and stars Their aspects lend, and mingle in their turn With this commotion (ruinous though it be) From day to night, from night to day, prolonged!'"[344] 540 "Yes," said the Wanderer, taking from my lips The strain of transport, "whosoe'er in youth Has, through ambition of his soul, given way To such desires, and grasped at such delight, Shall feel congenial stirrings late and long,[345] 545 In spite of all the weakness that life brings, Its cares and sorrows; he, though taught to own The tranquillizing power of time, shall wake, Wake sometimes to a noble restlessness— Loving the sports[346] which once he gloried in. 550 "Compatriot, Friend, remote are Garry's hills, The streams far distant of your native glen; Yet is their form and image here expressed With brotherly resemblance.[347] Turn your steps Wherever fancy leads; by day, by night, 555 Are various engines working, not the same As those with[348] which your soul in youth was moved, But by the great Artificer endowed[349] With no inferior power. You dwell alone; You walk, you live, you speculate alone; 560 Yet doth remembrance, like a sovereign prince, For you a stately gallery maintain Of gay or tragic pictures. You have seen, Have acted, suffered, travelled far, observed With no incurious eye; and books are yours, 565 Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in[350] ancestral tombs. 570 These hoards of truth you can unlock at will: And music waits upon your skilful touch, Sounds which the wandering shepherd from these heights Hears, and forgets his purpose;—furnished thus, How can you droop, if willing to be upraised?[351] 575 "A piteous lot it were to flee from Man— Yet not rejoice in Nature. He, whose hours Are by domestic pleasures uncaressed And unenlivened; who exists whole years Apart from benefits received or done 580 'Mid the transactions of the bustling crowd; Who neither hears, nor feels a wish to hear, Of the world's interests—such a one hath need Of a quick fancy and an active heart, That, for the day's consumption, books may yield 585 Food not unwholesome; earth and air correct His morbid humour, with delight supplied Or solace, varying as the seasons change.[352] —Truth has her pleasure-grounds, her haunts of ease And easy contemplation; gay parterres, 590 And labyrinthine walks, her sunny glades And shady groves in studied contrast—each, For recreation, leading into each:[353] These may he range, if willing to partake Their soft indulgences, and in due time 595 May issue thence, recruited for the tasks And course of service Truth requires from those Who tend her altars, wait upon her throne, And guard her fortresses. Who thinks, and feels, And recognises ever and anon 600 The breeze of nature stirring in his soul, Why need such man go desperately astray, And nurse 'the dreadful appetite of death?' If tired with systems, each in its degree Substantial, and all crumbling in their turn, 605 Let him build systems of his own, and smile At the fond work, demolished with a touch; If unreligious, let him be at once, Among ten thousand innocents, enrolled A pupil in the many-chambered school, 610 Where superstition weaves her airy dreams. "Life's autumn past, I stand on winter's verge; And daily lose what I desire to keep: Yet rather would I instantly decline To the traditionary sympathies 615 Of a most rustic ignorance, and take A fearful apprehension from the owl Or death-watch: and as readily rejoice, If two auspicious magpies crossed my way;— To this would rather bend[354] than see and hear 620 The repetitions wearisome of sense, Where soul is dead, and feeling hath no place; Where knowledge, ill begun in cold remark On outward things, with formal inference ends; Or, if the mind turn inward, she recoils 625 At once—or, not recoiling, is perplexed— Lost in a gloom of uninspired research;[355] Meanwhile, the heart within the heart, the seat Where peace and happy consciousness should dwell, On its own axis restlessly revolving, 630 Seeks, yet can nowhere find, the light of truth.[356][EQ] "Upon the breast of new-created earth Man walked; and when and wheresoe'er he moved, Alone or mated, solitude was not. He heard, borne on the wind,[357] the articulate voice 635 Of God;[ER] and Angels to his sight appeared Crowning the glorious hills of paradise; Or through the groves gliding like morning mist Enkindled by the sun. He sate—and talked With winged Messengers;[ES] who daily brought 640 To his small island in the ethereal deep Tidings of joy and love.—From those pure heights[358] (Whether of actual vision, sensible To sight and feeling, or that in this sort Have condescendingly been shadowed forth 645 Communications spiritually maintained, And intuitions moral and divine) Fell Human-kind—to banishment condemned[ET] That flowing years repealed not: and distress And grief spread wide;[EU] but Man escaped the doom 650 Of destitution;—solitude was not. —Jehovah[EV]—shapeless Power above all Powers, Single and one, the omnipresent God, By vocal utterance, or blaze of light, Or cloud of darkness, localised in heaven;[EW] 655 On earth, enshrined within the wandering ark;[EX] Or, out of Sion, thundering from his throne Between the Cherubim[EY]—on the chosen Race Showered miracles,[EZ] and ceased not to dispense Judgments, that filled the land from age to age 660 With hope, and love, and gratitude, and fear;[FA] And with amazement smote;—thereby to assert His scorned, or unacknowledged, sovereignty. And when the One, ineffable of name, Of[359] nature indivisible, withdrew 665 From mortal adoration or regard, Not then was Deity engulfed; nor Man, The rational creature, left, to feel the weight Of his own reason, without sense or thought Of higher reason and a purer will, 670 To benefit and bless, through mightier power:— Whether the Persian—zealous to reject Altar and image, and the inclusive walls And roofs of temples built by human hands—[FB] To[360] loftiest heights ascending, from their tops, 675 With myrtle-wreathed tiara on his brow,[361] Presented sacrifice to moon and stars, And to the winds and mother elements, And the whole circle of the heavens, for him A sensitive existence, and a God,[FC] 680 With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise: Or, less reluctantly to bonds of sense Yielding his soul, the Babylonian framed For influence undefined a personal shape; And, from the plain, with toil immense, upreared 685 Tower eight times planted on the top of tower, That Belus, nightly to his splendid couch Descending, there might rest;[FD] upon that height Pure and serene, diffused—to overlook[362] Winding Euphrates, and the city vast 690 Of his devoted worshippers, far-stretched, With grove and field and garden interspersed; Their town, and foodful region for support Against the pressure of beleaguering war. "Chaldean Shepherds, ranging trackless fields, 695 Beneath the concave of unclouded skies Spread like a sea, in boundless solitude, Looked on the polar star, as on a guide And guardian of their course, that never closed His stedfast eye. The planetary Five[FE] 700 With a submissive reverence they beheld; Watched, from the centre of their sleeping flocks, Those radiant Mercuries,[FF] that seemed to move Carrying through ether, in perpetual round, Decrees and resolutions of the Gods; 705 And, by their aspects, signifying works Of dim futurity, to Man revealed. —The imaginative faculty was lord Of observations natural; and, thus Led on, those shepherds made report of stars 710 In set rotation passing to and fro, Between the orbs of our apparent sphere And its invisible counterpart, adorned With answering constellations, under earth, Removed from all approach of living sight 715 But present to the dead; who, so they deemed, Like those celestial messengers beheld All accidents, and judges were of all. "The lively Grecian, in a land of hills, Rivers and fertile plains, and sounding shores,—[FG] 720 Under a cope of sky more variable,[363] Could find commodious place for every God, Promptly received, as prodigally brought, From the surrounding countries, at the choice Of all adventurers. With unrivalled skill, 725 As nicest observation furnished hints For studious fancy, his quick hand bestowed[364] On fluent operations a fixed shape; Metal or stone, idolatrously served. And yet—triumphant o'er this pompous show 730 Of art, this palpable array of sense, On every side encountered; in despite Of the gross fictions chanted in the streets By wandering Rhapsodists;[FH] and in contempt Of doubt and bold denial[365] hourly urged 735 Amid the wrangling schools—a SPIRIT hung, Beautiful region! o'er thy towns and farms, Statues and temples, and memorial tombs; And emanations were perceived; and acts Of immortality, in Nature's course, 740 Exemplified by mysteries, that were felt As bonds, on grave philosopher imposed And armed warrior; and in every grove A gay or pensive tenderness prevailed, 744 When piety more awful had relaxed. —'Take, running river, take these locks of mine'— Thus would the Votary say—'this severed hair, 'My vow fulfilling, do I here present, 'Thankful for my beloved child's return. 749 'Thy banks, Cephisus, he again hath trod,[FI] 'Thy murmurs heard; and drunk the crystal lymph 'With which thou dost refresh the thirsty lip, 'And, all day long, moisten[366] these flowery fields!' And, doubtless, sometimes, when the hair was shed Upon the flowing stream, a thought arose 755 Of Life continuous, Being unimpaired; That hath been, is, and where it was and is There shall endure,—existence unexposed[367] To the blind walk of mortal accident; From diminution safe and weakening age; 760 While man grows old, and dwindles, and decays; And countless generations of mankind Depart; and leave no vestige where they trod. "We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love; And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, 765 In dignity of being we ascend. But what is error?"—"Answer he who can!" The Sceptic somewhat haughtily exclaimed: "Love, Hope, and Admiration—are they not Mad Fancy's favourite vassals? Does not life 770 Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin, Guides to destruction? Is it well to trust Imagination's light when reason's fails, The unguarded taper where the guarded faints? —Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare 775 What error is; and, of our errors, which Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats Of power, where are they? Who shall regulate, With truth, the scale of intellectual rank?" "Methinks," persuasively the Sage replied, 780 "That for this arduous office you possess Some rare advantages. Your early days A grateful recollection must supply Of much exalted good by Heaven vouchsafed To dignify the humblest state.[368]—Your voice 785 Hath, in my hearing, often testified That poor men's children, they, and they alone, By their condition taught, can understand The wisdom of the prayer that daily asks For daily bread. A consciousness is yours 790 How feelingly religion may be learned In smoky cabins, from a mother's tongue— Heard while the dwelling vibrates to the din Of the contiguous torrent, gathering strength At every moment—and, with strength, increase 795 Of fury; or, while snow is at the door, Assaulting and defending, and the wind, A sightless labourer, whistles at his work— Fearful; but resignation tempers fear, 799 And piety is sweet to infant minds. —The Shepherd-lad, that[369] in the sunshine carves, On the green turf, a dial[FJ]—to divide The silent hours; and who to that report Can portion out his pleasures, and adapt, Throughout a long and lonely summer's day 805 His round[370] of pastoral duties, is not left With less intelligence for moral things Of gravest import. Early he perceives, Within himself, a measure and a rule, Which to the sun of truth he can apply, 810 That shines for him, and shines for all mankind. Experience daily fixing his regards On nature's wants, he knows how few they are, And where they lie, how answered and appeased. This knowledge ample recompense affords 815 For manifold privations; he refers His notions to this standard; on this rock Rests his desires; and hence, in after life, Soul-strengthening patience, and sublime content. Imagination—not permitted here 820 To waste her powers, as in the worldling's mind, On fickle pleasures, and superfluous cares, And trivial ostentation—is left free And puissant to range the solemn walks Of time and nature, girded by a zone 825 That, while it binds, invigorates and supports. Acknowledge, then, that whether by the side Of his poor hut, or on the mountain top, Or in the cultured field, a Man so bred[371] (Take from him what you will upon the score 830 Of ignorance or illusion) lives and breathes For noble purposes of mind: his heart Beats to the heroic song of ancient days; His eye distinguishes, his soul creates, And those illusions, which excite the scorn 835 Or move the pity of unthinking minds, Are they not mainly outward ministers Of inward conscience? with whose service charged They came and go, appeared and disappear,[372] Diverting evil purposes, remorse 840 Awakening, chastening an intemperate grief, Or pride of heart abating: and, whene'er For less important ends those phantoms move, Who would forbid them, if their presence serve, On thinly-peopled mountains and wild heaths,[373] 845 Filling a space, else vacant, to exalt The forms of Nature, and enlarge her powers? "Once more to distant ages of the world Let us revert, and place before our thoughts The face which rural solitude might wear 850 To the unenlightened swains of pagan Greece.[374] —In that fair clime, the lonely herdsman, stretched On the soft grass through half a summer's day, With music lulled his indolent repose: And, in some fit of weariness, if he, 855 When his own breath was silent, chanced to hear A distant strain, far sweeter than the sounds Which his poor skill could make, his fancy fetched, Even from the blazing chariot of the sun, A beardless Youth, who touched a golden lute,[FK] 860 And filled the illumined groves with ravishment. The nightly hunter, lifting a bright eye Up towards the crescent moon,[375] with grateful heart Called on the lovely wanderer who bestowed That timely light, to share his joyous sport:[376] 865 And hence, a beaming Goddess with her Nymphs,[FL] Across the lawn and through the darksome grove, Not unaccompanied with tuneful notes By echo multiplied from rock or cave, Swept in the storm of chase; as moon and stars 870 Glance rapidly along the clouded heaven,[377] When winds are blowing strong. The traveller slaked His thirst from rill or gushing fount, and thanked The Naiad.[FM] Sunbeams, upon distant hills Gliding apace, with shadows in their train, 875 Might, with small help from fancy, be transformed Into fleet Oreads[FM] sporting visibly. The Zephyrs[FM] fanning, as they passed, their wings, Lacked not, for love, fair objects whom they wooed With gentle whisper. Withered boughs grotesque, 880 Stripped of their leaves and twigs by hoary age, From depth of shaggy covert peeping forth In the low vale, or on steep mountain side; And, sometimes, intermixed with stirring horns Of the live deer, or goat's depending beard,— 885 These were the lurking Satyrs,[FM] a wild brood Of gamesome Deities; or Pan himself, The simple shepherd's awe-inspiring God!" The strain was aptly chosen; and I could mark[378] Its kindly influence, o'er[379] the yielding brow 890 Of our Companion, gradually diffused; While, listening, he had paced the noiseless turf, Like one whose untired ear a murmuring stream Detains; but tempted now to interpose, He with a smile exclaimed:— "'Tis well you speak 895 At a safe distance from our native land, And from the mansions where our youth was taught. The true descendants of those godly men Who swept from Scotland, in a flame of zeal, Shrine, altar, image, and the massy piles 900 That harboured them,—the souls retaining yet The churlish features of that after-race Who fled to woods, caverns, and jutting rocks,[380] In deadly scorn of superstitious rites, Or what their scruples construed to be such— 905 How, think you, would they tolerate this scheme Of fine propensities, that tends, if urged Far as it might be urged, to sow afresh The weeds of Romish phantasy, in vain Uprooted; would re-consecrate our wells 910 To good Saint Fillan[FN] and to fair Saint Anne; And from long banishment recal Saint Giles,[FO] To watch again with tutelary love O'er stately Edinborough throned on crags? A blessed restoration,[FP] to behold 915 The patron, on the shoulders of his priests, Once more parading through her crowded streets Now simply guarded by the sober powers Of science, and philosophy, and sense!" This answer followed.—"You have turned my thoughts 920 Upon our brave Progenitors, who rose Against idolatry with warlike mind, And shrunk from vain observances, to lurk In woods, and dwell under impending rocks Ill-sheltered, and oft wanting fire and food;[381] 925 Why?—for this very reason that they felt, And did acknowledge, wheresoe'er they moved, A spiritual presence, oft-times misconceived, But still a high dependence, a divine Bounty and government, that filled their hearts 930 With joy, and gratitude, and fear, and love; And from their fervent lips drew hymns of praise, That through the desert rang.[382] Though favoured less, Far less, than these, yet such, in their degree, Were those bewildered Pagans of old time. 935 Beyond their own poor natures and above They looked; were humbly thankful for the good Which the warm sun solicited, and earth Bestowed; were gladsome,—and their moral sense They fortified with reverence for the Gods; 940 And they had hopes that overstepped the Grave. "Now, shall our great Discoverers," he exclaimed, Raising his voice triumphantly, "obtain From sense and reason less than these obtained, Though far misled? Shall men for whom our age 945 Unbaffled powers of vision hath prepared, To explore the world without and world within, Be joyless as the blind? Ambitious spirits—[383] Whom earth, at this late season, hath produced To regulate the moving spheres, and weigh 950 The planets in the hollow of their hand; And they who rather dive than soar, whose pains Have solved the elements, or analysed The thinking principle—shall they in fact Prove a degraded Race? and what avails 955 Renown, if their presumption make them such? Oh! there is laughter at their work in heaven! Inquire of ancient Wisdom; go, demand Of mighty Nature, if 'twas ever meant That we should pry far off yet be unraised; 960 That we should pore, and dwindle as we pore, Viewing all objects unremittingly In disconnexion dead and spiritless; And still dividing, and dividing still, Break down all grandeur, still unsatisfied 965 With the perverse attempt, while littleness May yet become more little; waging thus An impious warfare with the very life Of our own souls! "And if indeed there be An all-pervading Spirit, upon whom 970 Our dark foundations rest, could he design That this[384] magnificent effect of power, The earth we tread, the sky that[385] we behold By day, and all the pomp which night reveals; That these—and that superior mystery 975 Our vital frame, so fearfully devised, And the dread soul within it—should exist Only to be examined, pondered, searched, Probed, vexed, and criticised?[FR]—Accuse me not Of arrogance, unknown Wanderer as I am, 980 If, having walked with Nature threescore years, And offered, far as frailty would allow, My heart a daily sacrifice to Truth, I now affirm of Nature and of Truth, Whom I have served, that their DIVINITY 985 Revolts, offended at the ways of men Swayed by such motives, to such ends[386] employed; Philosophers, who, though the human soul Be[387] of a thousand faculties composed, And twice ten thousand interests, do yet prize 990 This soul, and the transcendent universe, No more than as a mirror that reflects To proud Self-love her own intelligence; That one, poor, finite object, in the abyss Of infinite Being, twinkling restlessly! 995 "Nor higher place can be assigned to him And his compeers—the laughing Sage of France.—[FS] Crowned was he, if my memory do[388] not err, With laurel planted upon hoary hairs, In sign of conquest by his wit achieved 1000 And benefits his wisdom had conferred; His stooping body tottered with wreaths of flowers[FT] Opprest, far less becoming ornaments Than Spring oft twines about a mouldering tree;[389] Yet so it pleased a fond, a vain, old Man, 1005 And a most frivolous people. Him I mean Who penned,[390] to ridicule confiding faith, This sorry Legend; which by chance we found Piled in a nook, through malice, as might seem, Among more innocent rubbish."—Speaking thus, 1010 With a brief notice when, and how, and where, We had espied the book, he drew it forth; And courteously, as if the act removed, At once, all traces from the good Man's heart Of unbenign aversion or contempt, 1015 Restored it to its owner. "Gentle Friend," Herewith he grasped the Solitary's hand, "You have known lights and guides better than these.[391] Ah! let not aught amiss within dispose A noble mind to practise on herself, 1020 And tempt opinion to support the wrongs Of passion: whatsoe'er be[392] felt or feared, From higher judgment-seats make no appeal To lower: can you question that the soul Inherits an allegiance, not by choice 1025 To be cast off, upon an oath proposed By each new upstart notion? In the ports Of levity no refuge can be found, No shelter, for a spirit in distress. He, who by wilful disesteem of life 1030 And proud insensibility to hope, Affronts the eye of Solitude, shall learn That her mild nature can be terrible; That neither she nor Silence lack the power To avenge their own insulted majesty. 1035 "O blest seclusion! when the mind admits The law of duty; and can therefore move[393] Through each vicissitude of loss and gain, Linked in entire complacence with her choice; When youth's presumptuousness is mellowed down, 1040 And manhood's vain anxiety dismissed; When wisdom shows her seasonable fruit, Upon the boughs of sheltering leisure hung In sober plenty; when the spirit stoops To drink with gratitude the crystal stream 1045 Of unreproved enjoyment; and is pleased To muse, and be saluted by the air Of meek repentance, wafting wall-flower scents From out the crumbling ruins of fallen pride And chambers of transgression, now forlorn. 1050 O, calm contented days, and peaceful nights! Who, when such good can be obtained, would strive To reconcile his manhood to a couch Soft, as may seem, but, under that disguise, Stuffed with the thorny substance of the past 1055 For fixed annoyance; and full oft beset With floating dreams, black and disconsolate,[394] The vapoury phantoms of futurity? "Within the soul a faculty abides, That with interpositions, which would hide 1060 And darken, so can deal that they become Contingencies of pomp; and serve to exalt Her native brightness. As the ample moon, In the deep stillness of a summer even Rising behind a thick and lofty grove, 1065 Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light, In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil Into a substance glorious as her own, Yea, with her own incorporated, by power 1070 Capacious and serene. Like power abides In man's celestial spirit; virtue thus Sets forth and magnifies herself; thus feeds A calm, a beautiful, and silent fire, From the encumbrances of mortal life, 1075 From error, disappointment—nay, from guilt; And sometimes, so relenting justice wills, From palpable oppressions of despair." The Solitary by these words was touched With manifest emotion, and exclaimed; "But how begin? and whence?—'The Mind is free— 1081 Resolve,' the haughty Moralist would say, 'This single act is all that we demand.' Alas! such wisdom bids a creature fly Whose very sorrow is, that time hath shorn 1085 His natural wings!—To friendship let him turn For succour; but perhaps he sits alone On stormy waters, tossed in a little boat[395] That holds but him, and can contain no more! Religion tells of amity sublime 1090 Which no condition can preclude; of One Who sees all suffering, comprehends all wants, All weakness fathoms, can supply all needs: But is that bounty absolute?—His gifts, Are they not, still, in some degree, rewards 1095 For acts of service? Can his love extend To hearts that own not him? Will showers of grace, When in the sky no promise may be seen, Fall to refresh a parched and withered land? Or shall the groaning Spirit cast her load At the Redeemer's feet?" 1100 In rueful tone, With some impatience in his mien, he spake: Back to my mind rushed all that had been urged To calm the Sufferer when his story closed; I looked for counsel as unbending now; 1105 But a discriminating sympathy Stooped to this apt reply:—[396] "As men from men Do, in the constitution of their souls, Differ, by mystery not to be explained; And as we fall by various ways, and sink 1110 One deeper than another, self-condemned, Through manifold degrees of guilt and shame; So manifold and various are the ways Of restoration, fashioned to the steps Of all infirmity, and tending all 1115 To the same point, attainable by all— Peace in ourselves, and union with our God. For you, assuredly, a hopeful road[397] Lies open: we have heard from you a voice At every moment softened in its course 1120 By tenderness of heart; have seen your eye, Even like an altar lit by fire from heaven, Kindle before us.—Your discourse this day, That, like the fabled Lethe, wished to flow In creeping sadness, through oblivious shades 1125 Of death and night, has caught at every turn The colours of the sun. Access for you Is yet preserved to principles of truth, Which the imaginative Will upholds In seats of wisdom, not to be approached 1130 By the inferior Faculty that moulds, With her minute and speculative pains, Opinion, ever changing! "I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear 1135 The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed,[398] his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed[399] 1140 Mysterious union with its native sea. Even such a shell[FU] the universe itself Is to the ear of Faith; and there are times, I doubt not, when to you it doth impart Authentic tidings of invisible things; 1145 Of ebb and flow, and ever-during power; And central peace, subsisting at the heart Of endless agitation. Here you stand, Adore, and worship, when you know it not; Pious beyond the intention of your thought; 1150 Devout above the meaning of your will. —Yes, you have felt, and may not cease to feel. The estate of man would be indeed forlorn If false conclusions of the reasoning power 1154 Made the eye blind, and closed the passages Through which the ear converses with the heart. Has not the soul, the being of your life, Received a shock of awful consciousness, In some calm season, when these lofty rocks At night's approach bring down the unclouded sky, 1160 To rest upon their circumambient walls; A temple framing of dimensions vast, And yet not too enormous for the sound Of human anthems,—choral song, or burst Sublime of instrumental harmony, 1165 To glorify the Eternal! What if these Did never break the stillness that prevails Here,—if the solemn nightingale[FV] be mute, And the soft woodlark here did never chant Her vespers,[FW]—Nature fails not to provide 1170 Impulse and utterance. The whispering air Sends inspiration from the shadowy heights, And blind recesses of the caverned rocks; The little rills, and waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes 1175 With the loud streams: and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this fabric huge, One voice—the solitary raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark blue dome, 1180 Unseen, perchance above all[400] power of sight— An iron knell! with echoes from afar Faint—and still fainter—as the cry, with which The wanderer accompanies her flight Through the calm region, fades upon the ear, 1185 Diminishing by distance till it seemed To expire; yet from the abyss is caught again, And yet again recovered![FX] "But descending From these imaginative heights, that yield Far-stretching views into eternity, 1190 Acknowledge that to Nature's humbler power Your cherished sullenness is forced to bend Even here, where her amenities are sown With sparing hand. Then trust yourself abroad To range her blooming bowers, and spacious fields, 1195 Where on the labours of the happy throng She smiles, including in her wide embrace City, and town, and tower,—and sea with ships Sprinkled;—be our Companion while we track 1199 Her rivers populous with gliding life; While, free as air, o'er printless sands we march, Or[401] pierce the gloom of her majestic woods; Roaming, or resting under grateful shade In peace and meditative cheerfulness; 1204 Where living things, and things inanimate, Do speak, at Heaven's command, to eye and ear, And speak to social reason's inner sense, With inarticulate language. "For, the Man— Who, in this spirit, communes with the Forms Of nature, who with understanding heart 1210 Both knows and loves[402] such objects as excite No morbid passions, no disquietude, No vengeance, and no hatred—needs must feel The joy of that pure principle of love So deeply, that, unsatisfied with aught 1215 Less pure and exquisite, he cannot choose But seek for objects of a kindred love In fellow-natures and a kindred joy. Accordingly he by degrees perceives His feelings of aversion softened down; 1220 A holy tenderness pervade his frame. His sanity of reason not impaired, Say rather, all his thoughts now flowing clear, From a clear fountain flowing, he looks round And seeks for good; and finds the good he seeks: 1225 Until abhorrence and contempt are things He only knows by name; and, if he hear, From other mouths, the language which they speak, He is compassionate; and has no thought, No feeling, which can overcome his love. 1230 "And further; by contemplating these Forms In the relations which they bear to man, He shall discern, how, through the various means Which silently they yield, are multiplied The spiritual presences of absent things. 1235 Trust me,[403] that for the instructed, time will come When they shall meet no object but may teach Some acceptable lesson to their minds Of human suffering, or of human joy. So shall they learn, while all things speak of man, 1240 Their duties from all forms;[404] and general laws, And local accidents, shall tend alike To rouse, to urge; and, with the will, confer The ability to spread the blessings wide Of true philanthropy. The light of love 1245 Not failing, perseverance from their steps Departing not, for them shall be confirmed[405] The glorious habit by which sense is made Subservient still to moral purposes, Auxiliar to divine. That change shall clothe 1250 The naked spirit, ceasing to deplore The burthen of existence. Science then Shall be a precious visitant; and then, And only then, be worthy of her name: For then her heart shall kindle; her dull eye, 1255 Dull and inanimate, no more shall hang Chained to its object in brute slavery; But taught with patient interest to watch The processes of things, and serve the cause Of order and distinctness, not for this 1260 Shall it forget that its most noble use, Its most illustrious province, must be found In furnishing clear guidance, a support Not treacherous, to the mind's excursive power. —So build we up the Being that we are; 1265 Thus deeply drinking—in the soul of things, We shall be wise perforce; and, while inspired By choice, and conscious that the Will is free, Shall move unswerving, even as if impelled[406] By strict necessity, along the path 1270 Of order and of good. Whate'er we see, Or feel, shall tend to quicken and refine; Shall fix, in calmer seats of moral strength, Earthly desires; and raise, to loftier heights Of divine love, our intellectual soul."[407] 1275 Here closed the Sage that eloquent harangue, Poured forth with fervour in continuous stream, Such as, remote, 'mid savage wilderness, An Indian Chief discharges from his breast Into the hearing of assembled tribes,[408] 1280 In open circle seated round, and hushed As the unbreathing air, when not a leaf Stirs in the mighty woods.—So did he speak: The words he uttered shall not pass away Dispersed, like music that the wind takes up 1285 By snatches, and lets fall, to be forgotten; No—they sank into me,[409] the bounteous gift Of one whom time and nature had made wise, Gracing his doctrine[410] with authority Which hostile spirits silently allow; 1290 Of one accustomed to desires that feed On fruitage gathered from the tree of life; To hopes on knowledge and experience built; Of one in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become 1295 A passionate intuition; whence the Soul, Though bound to earth by ties of pity and love, From all injurious servitude was free. The Sun, before his place of rest were reached, Had yet to travel far, but unto us, 1300 To us who stood low in that hollow dell, He had become invisible,—a pomp Leaving behind of yellow radiance spread Over[411] the mountain sides, in contrast bold 1304 With ample shadows, seemingly, no less Than those resplendent lights, his rich bequest; A dispensation of his evening power. —Adown the path that[412] from the glen had led The funeral train, the Shepherd and his Mate Were seen descending:—forth to greet them ran[413] 1310 Our little Page: the rustic pair approach; And in the Matron's countenance may be read Plain indication[414] that the words, which told How that neglected Pensioner was sent Before his time into a quiet grave, 1315 Had done to her humanity no wrong: But we are kindly welcomed—promptly served With ostentatious zeal.—Along the floor Of the small Cottage in the lonely Dell A grateful couch was spread for our repose; 1320 Where, in the guise of mountaineers, we lay,[415] Stretched upon fragrant heath, and lulled by sound Of far-off torrents charming the still night, And, to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts, Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.[416]