Volume 8 — 1838
Reading edition
“WOULDST THOU BE GATHERED TO CHRIST’S CHOSEN FLOCK”
The following lines were cut on the face of a rock at Rydal Mount in 1838. There, they still remain.—Ed.
Wouldst thou be gathered to Christ’s chosen flock, Shun the broad way too easily explored, And let thy path be hewn out of the Rock, The living Rock of God’s eternal Word.
PROTEST AGAINST THE BALLOT, 1838[404]
Composed 1838.—Published 1838
Forth rushed, from Envy sprung and Self-conceit, A Power misnamed the Spirit of Reform, And through the astonished Island swept in storm, Threatening to lay all Orders at her feet That crossed her way. Now stoops she to entreat 5 Licence to hide at intervals her head, Where she may work, safe, undisquieted, In a close Box, covert for Justice meet. St. George of England! keep a watchful eye Fixed on the Suitor; frustrate her request— 10 Stifle her hope; for, if the State comply, From such Pandorian gift may come a Pest Worse than the Dragon that bowed low his crest, Pierced by thy spear in glorious victory.
“SAID SECRECY TO COWARDICE AND FRAUD”
Composed, probably, in 1838.—Published 1838[405]
Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud, Falsehood and Treachery, in close council met, Deep under ground, in Pluto’s cabinet, “The frost of England’s pride will soon be thawed; Hooded the open brow that overawed 5 Our schemes; the faith and honour, never yet By us with hope encountered, be upset;— For once I burst my bands, and cry, applaud!” Then whispered she, “The Bill is carrying out!” They heard, and, starting up, the Brood of Night 10 Clapped hands, and shook with glee their matted locks; All Powers and Places that abhor the light Joined in the transport, echoed back their shout, Hurrah for ——, hugging his Ballot-box![406]
A POET TO HIS GRANDCHILD (SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING)[407]
Published 1838
“Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand Is clasping mine, it saddens me to think How Want may press thee down, and with thee sink Thy Children left unfit, through vain demand Of culture, even to feel or understand 5 My simplest Lay that to their memory May cling;—hard fate! which haply need not be Did Justice mould the Statutes of the Land. A Book time-cherished and an honoured name Are high rewards; but bound they Nature’s claim 10 Or Reason’s? No—hopes spun in timid line From out the bosom of a modest home Extend through unambitious years to come, My careless Little-one, for thee and thine!”[408][409]