In silence Matthew lay, and eyed The gray-hair'd man of glee: 'No check, no stay, this Streamlet fears, How merrily it goes! "Twill murmur on a thousand years And flow as now it flows. 'And here, on this delightful day, 'My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirr'd, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard. 'Thus fares it still in our decay: And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what Age takes away, Than what it leaves behind. 'The blackbird amid leafy trees, The lark above the hill, Let loose their carols when they please, Are quiet when they will. 'With Nature never do they wage A foolish strife; they see A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free: 'But we are press'd by heavy laws; And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy, because We have been glad of yore. 368 "If there be one who need bemoan His kindred laid in earth, The household hearts that were his own,- 'My days, my friend, are almost gone, My life has been approved, And many love me; but by none Am I enough beloved.' 'Now both himself and me he wrongs, I live and sing my idle songs 'And Matthew, for thy children dead At this he grasp'd my hand and said, We rose up from the fountain-side; Of the green sheep-track did we glide, And ere we came to Leonard's rock About the crazy old church-clock, WRITTEN IN MARCH While resting on the Bridge at the foot of Brother's Water THE COCK is crowing, The stream is flowing, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; 369 The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest; Their heads never raising; Like an army defeated On the top of the bare hill; The Ploughboy is whooping-anon-anon: The rain is over and gone! NATURE AND THE POET Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, painted by Sir George Beaumont I WAS thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile! So pure the sky, so quiet was the air! How perfect was the calm! It seem'd no sleep, Ah! then if mine had been the painter's hand I would have planted thee, thou hoary pile, A picture had it been of lasting ease, Such, in the fond illusion of my heart, So once it would have been,-'tis so no more; A power is gone, which nothing can restore; Not for a moment could I now behold This, which I know, I speak with mind serene. Then, Beaumont, Friend! who would have been the friend This work of thine I blame not, but commend; O'tis a passionate work!-yet wise and well, And this huge Castle, standing here sublime, -Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the Kind! Such happiness, wherever it be known Is to be pitied; for 'tis surely blind. But welcome fortitude, and patient cheer, 370 RUTH OR THE INFLUENCES OF NATURE When Ruth was left half desolate And she had made a pipe of straw, Beneath her father's roof, alone She seem'd to live; her thoughts her own; Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay, She passed her time; and in this way Grew up to woman's height. There came a youth from Georgia's shore A military casque he wore With splendid feathers drest; He brought them from the Cherokees; The feathers nodded in the breeze And made a gallant crest. |