That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste-
What matter! he's caught-and his time runs to waste;
The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret;
And the half-breathless Lamplighter-he's in the net!

The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore; 21
The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store ;-
If a thief could be here he might pilfer at ease;
She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees!

He stands, backed by the wall;-he abates not his din ;
His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in,
From the old and the young, from the poorest; and
there!

The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare.

O blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand
Of the pleasure it spreads through so thankful a band;
I am glad for him, blind as he is!-all the while
If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile.

That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height,
Not an inch of his body is free from delight;
Can he keep himself still, if he would? oh, not he!

The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.

31

Mark that Cripple who leans on his crutch; like a tower
That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour!—
That Mother, whose spirit in fetters is bound,
While she dandles the Babe in her arms to the sound.

39

Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream;
Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream :
They are deaf to your murmurs-they care not for you
Nor what ye are flying, nor what ye pursue!

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 ?
Or is it good as others are, and be their eyes in fault?
Their eyes, or minds? or, finally, is yon resplendent vault?

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
BROTHER'S WATER

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,

And now doth fare ill

On the top of the bare hill;

The Ploughboy is whooping-anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;

There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,

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
By her sweet farewell looks, I longed to aid.

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
Among the restless sails of vanity.

But if no wish be hers that we should part,
A humbler bliss would satisfy my heart.
Where all things are so fair,

Enough by her dear side to breathe the air
Of this Elysian weather;

10

And on, or in, or near, the brook, espy
Shade upon the sunshine lying

Faint and somewhat pensively;
And downward Image gaily vying
With its upright living tree

'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,
To mark its eddying foam-balls prettily distrest
By ever-changing shape and want of rest;
Or watch, with mutual teaching,

The current as it plays

In flashing leaps and stealthy creeps
Adown a rocky maze;

Or note (translucent summer's happiest chance!)
In the slope-channel floored with pebbles bright,
Stones of all hues, gem emulous of gem,

So vivid that they take from keenest sight
The liquid veil that seeks not to hide them.

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:
Haughty, as if her eye had seen
Its own light to a distance thrown,
She towered, fit person for a Queen

To lead those ancient Amazonian files;

Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian isles.

Advancing, forth she stretched her hand
And begged an alms with doleful plea
That ceased not; on our English land

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
With leaves of laurel stuck about;
And while both followed up and down,
Each whooping with a merry shout,

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
Precursors to Aurora's car,

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!
Said I, 'not half an hour ago

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?
For whose free range the dædal earth

Was filled with animated toys,

And implements of frolic mirth;