That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste- The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore; 21 He stands, backed by the wall;-he abates not his din ; The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare. O blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height, The music stirs in him like wind through a tree. 31 Mark that Cripple who leans on his crutch; like a tower 39 Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream; 1806 WH XV STAR-GAZERS HAT crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass it by; A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky: Long is it as a barber's pole, or mast of little boat, Some little pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames's waters float. The Showman chooses well his place, 'tis Leicester's busy Square; And is as happy in his night, for the heavens are blue and fair; Calm, though impatient, is the crowd; each stands ready with the fee, And envies him that's looking;—what an insight must it be! Yet, Showman, where can lie the cause? ment have blame, Shall thy Imple II A boaster that, when he is tried, fails, and is put to shame ? Is nothing of that radiant pomp so good as we have here? Or gives a thing but small delight that never can be dear? The silver moon with all her vales, and hills of mightiest fame, Doth she betray us when they're seen? or are they but a name? Or is it rather that Conceit rapacious is and strong, And bounty never yields so much but it seems to do her wrong? Or is it that, when human Souls a journey long have had And are returned into themselves, they cannot but be sad? 20 Or must we be constrained to think that these Spectators rude, Poor in estate, of manners base, men of the multitude, Have souls which never yet have risen, and therefore prostrate lie? No, no, this cannot be ;-men thirst for power and majesty! Does, then, a deep and earnest thought the blissful mind employ Of him who gazes, or has gazed? a grave and steady joy, That doth reject all show of pride, admits no outward sign, Because not of this noisy world, but silent and divine! 28 Whatever be the cause, 'tis sure that they who pry and pore Seem to meet with little gain, seem less happy than before: One after One they take their turn, nor have I one espied That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied. XVI WRITTEN IN MARCH WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF Like an army defeated And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill; The Ploughboy is whooping-anon-anon: There's life in the fountains; Blue sky prevailing ; The rain is over and gone! ΙΟ 20 1802 XVII YRE! though such power do in thy magic live As might from India's farthest plain Recall the not unwilling Maid, Assist me to detain The lovely Fugitive: Check with thy notes the impulse which, betrayed Here let me gaze enrapt upon that eye, The impregnable and awe-inspiring fort Of contemplation, the calm port By reason fenced from winds that sigh But if no wish be hers that we should part, Enough by her dear side to breathe the air 10 And on, or in, or near, the brook, espy Faint and somewhat pensively; 'Mid silver clouds, and openings of blue sky As soft almost and deep as her cerulean eye. Nor less the joy with many a glance Cast up the Stream or down at her beseeching, The current as it plays In flashing leaps and stealthy creeps Or note (translucent summer's happiest chance!) So vivid that they take from keenest sight Published 1842 XVIII BEGGARS S' HE had a tall man's height or more ; Her face from summer's noontide heat No bonnet shaded, but she wore A mantle, to her very feet Descending with a graceful flow, And on her head a cap as white as new-fallen snow. Her skin was of Egyptian brown: To lead those ancient Amazonian files; Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian isles. Advancing, forth she stretched her hand Such woes, I knew, could never be; And yet a boon I gave her, for the creature Was beautiful to see-'a weed of glorious feature.' 30 30 10 I left her, and pursued my way; And soon before me did espy A pair of little Boys at play, Chasing a crimson butterfly; The taller followed with his hat in hand, 20 Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the land. The other wore a rimless crown In their fraternal features I could trace Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face. Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit For finest tasks of earth or air: Wings let them have, and they might flit 30 Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green. They dart across my path-but lo, Each ready with a plaintive whine! Your Mother has had alms of mine.' 'That cannot be,' one answered-'she is dead': : 40 I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head. 'She has been dead, Sir, many a day.'— 'Hush, boys! you're telling me a lie; It was your Mother, as I say!' And, in the twinkling of an eye, Come! come!' cried one, and without more ado Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew ! 1802 XIX SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING W COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER HERE are they now, those wanton Boys? Was filled with animated toys, And implements of frolic mirth; |