V. That was indeed a parting! O, Glad am I, glad that it is past! For there were some on whom it cast Unutterable woe. But they as well as I have gains ; To comfort and to peace. VI. He would have loved thy modest grace, Meek Flower! To him I would have said, "It grows upon its native bed Beside our Parting-place; There, cleaving to the ground, it lies, With multitude of purple eyes, Spangling a cushion green like moss; But we will see it, joyful tide! VII. - Brother and friend, if verse of mine Have power to make thy virtues known, Here let a monumental Stone Stand, sacred as a Shrine; And to the few who pass this way, Traveller or Shepherd, let it say, On any earthly hope, however pure! * IX. SONNET. WHY should we weep or mourn, Angelic Boy, For such thou wert ere from our sight removed, Holy, and ever dutiful, beloved From day to day with never-ceasing joy, And hopes as dear as could the heart employ But Heaven is now, blest Child, thy Spirit's home: Surely a sweet remembrancer of thee. 1846. *The plant alluded to is the Moss Campion (Silene acaulis of Linnæus). See note at the end of the volume. See, among the Poems on the "Naming of Places," No. VI. X. LINES Composed at Grasmere, during a walk one Evening, after a stormy day, the Author having just read in a Newspaper that the dissolution of Mr. Fox was hourly expected. LOUD is the Vale! the Voice is up With which she speaks when storms are gone, Of all her Voices, one! Loud is the Vale; this inland Depth In peace is roaring like the Sea; Sad was I, even to pain depressed, The Comforter hath found me here, And many thousands now are sad, A Power is passing from the earth *Importuna e grave salma. MICHAEL ANGELO. But when the great and good depart That man, who is from God sent forth, Such ebb and flow must ever be, 1806. XI. INVOCATION TO THE EARTH. FEBRUARY, 1816. I. "REST, rest, perturbed Earth! O rest, thou doleful Mother of Mankind!" A Spirit sang in tones more plaintive than the wind: "From regions where no evil thing has birth I come, thy stains to wash away, Thy cherished fetters to unbind, And open thy sad eyes upon a milder day. The Heavens are thronged with martyrs that have risen From out thy noisome prison; The penal caverns groan With tens of thousands rent from off the tree Of hopeful life, by battle's whirlwind blown Into the deserts of Eternity. Unpitied havoc! VOL. V. Victims unlamented! 11 But not on high, where madness is resented, II. "False Parent of mankind! Obdurate, proud, and blind, I sprinkle thee with soft celestial dews, Of which the rivers in their secret springs, The rivers stained so oft with human gore, May she, who once disturbed the seats of bliss Be chained for ever to the black abyss! The Spirit ended his mysterious rite, And the pure vision closed in darkness infinite. |