A few appear by morning light, Six weeks, beneath the moving sea, To quit the ship for which he died And there they found him at her side, Vain service! yet not vainly done, That neighbourhood of grove and field The birds shall sing, and ocean make A mournful murmur, for his sake; And thou, sweet flower, shalt sleep and wake Upon his senseless grave! TO THE SAME FLOWER. BRIGHT flower, whose home is everywhere? And all the long year through, the heir Methinks that there abides in thee Is it that man is soon depress'd? Or on his reason, And thou wouldst teach him how to find A hope for times that are unkind, Thou wanderest the wide world about, Meek, yielding to th' occasion's call, In peace fulfilling. LINES. Written in early Spring. I HEARD a thousand blended notes, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts To her fair works did Nature link Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, And 'tis my faith that every flower The birds around me hopp'd and play'd; The budding twigs spread out their fan, And I must think, do all I can, If I these thoughts may not prevent, ODE. Intimations of Immortality from recollections of early Childhood. "The child is father of the man ; And I could wish my days to be I. THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, Apparell'd in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more! II. The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose, The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair ; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath pass'd away a glory from the earth. III. Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, To me alone there came a thought of grief; The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep,- Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy shepherd boy! IV. Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; The fullness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all. And the children are pulling, On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, - But there's a tree, of many one, Doth the same tale repeat: V. Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, Is on his way attended; |