Though often of such dilatory walk Tired, and uneasy at the halts I made. A hundred times when, roving high and low, I have been harassed with the toil of verse, Much pains and little progress, and at once Some lovely Image in the song rose up Full-formed, like Venus rising from the sea; Then have I darted forwards to let loose My hand upon his back with stormy joy, Caressing him again and yet again. And when at evening on the public way I sauntered, like a river murmuring And talking to itself when all things else Are still, the creature trotted on before; Such was his custom; but whene'er he met A passenger approaching, he would turn To give me timely notice, and straightway, Grateful for that admonishment, I hushed My voice, composed my gait, and, with the air And mien of one whose thoughts are free, advanced To give and take a greeting that might save My name from piteous rumours, such as wait On men suspected to be crazed in brain.
Those walks well worthy to be prized and loved – Regretted! that word, too, was on my tongue. But they were richly laden with all good, And cannot be remembered but with thanks
And gratitude, and perfect joy of heart
Those walks in all their freshness now came back
Like a returning Spring. When first I made Once more the circuit of our little lake,
If ever happiness hath lodged with man, That day consummate happiness was mine, Wide-spreading, steady, calm, contemplative. The sun was set, or setting, when I left Our cottage door, and evening soon brought on A sober hour, not winning or serene,
For cold and raw the air was, and untuned: But as a face we love is sweetest then When sorrow damps it, or, whatever look It chance to wear, is sweetest if the heart Have fulness in herself; even so with me It fared that evening. Gently did my soul Put off her veil, and, self-transmuted, stood Naked, as in the presence of her God.
[A DEDICATED SPIRIT" ; THE BAPTISMAL MOMENT]
Loved deeply all that had been loved before,
More deeply even than ever but a swarm
Of heady schemes jostling each other, gawds, And feast and dance, and public revelry,
And sports and games (too grateful in themselves, Yet in themselves less grateful, I believe,
Than as they were a badge glossy and fresh Of manliness and freedom) all conspired To lure my mind from firm habitual quest
Of feeding pleasures, to depress the zeal
And damp those yearnings which had once been mine- A wild, unworldly minded youth, given up
To his own eager thoughts. It would demand Some skill, and longer time than may be spared To paint these vanities, and how they wrought In haunts where they, till now, had been unknown. It seemed the very garments that I wore Preyed on my strength, and stopped the quiet stream Of self-forgetfulness.
Yes, that heartless chase
Of trivial pleasures was a poor exchange
For books and nature at that early age.
"T is true, some casual knowledge might be gained Of character or life; but at that time,
Of manners put to school I took small note, And all my deeper passions lay elsewhere.
Far better had it been to exalt the mind By solitary study, to uphold
Intense desire through meditative peace ; And yet, for chastisement of these regrets,
The memory of one particular hour Doth here rise up against me.
Of maids and youths, old men, and matrons staid, A medley of all tempers, I had passed
The night in dancing, gaiety, and mirth, With din of instruments and shuffling feet, And glancing forms, and tapers glittering, And unaimed prattle flying up and down; Spirits upon the stretch, and here and there
Slight shocks of young love-liking interspersed Whose transient pleasure mounted to the head, And tingled through the veins. Ere we retired, The cock had crowed, and now the eastern sky Was kindling, not unseen, from humble copse And open field, through which the pathway wound, And homeward led my steps. Magnificent
The morning rose, in memorable pomp,
Glorious as e'er I had beheld — in front,
The sea lay laughing at a distance; near, The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds, Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light; And in the meadows and the lower grounds Was all the sweetness of a common dawn- Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And labourers going forth to till the fields. Ah! need I say, dear Friend! that to the brim My heart was full: I made no vows, but vows Were then made for me; bond unknown to me Was given, that I should be, else sinning greatly, A dedicated Spirit. On I walked
In thankful blessedness, which yet survives.
INSIDE OF KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE
TAX not the royal Saint with vain expense,
With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned
Albeit labouring for a scanty band
"Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely calculated less or more;
So deemed the man who fashioned for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells."
-Inside of King's College Chapel, p. 57.
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