IV. SOLITUDE' if I must with thee dwell, Nature's observatory- whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell. Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind, H V. - OW many bards gild the lapses of time! A few of them have ever been the food Of my delighted fancy, — I could brood Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime : And often, when I sit me down to rhyme, These will in throngs before my mind intrude: But no confusion, no disturbance rude Do they occasion; 'tis a pleasing chime. So the unnumber'd sounds that evening store; The songs of birds — the whispering of the leaves The voice of waters the great bell that heaves With solemn sound, and thousand others more, That distance of recognizance bereaves, Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar. VI. TO G. A. W. N TYMPH of the downward smile and sidelong In what diviner moments of the day Of sober thought? Or when starting away, And so remain, because thou listenest: I shall as soon pronounce which Grace more neatly VII. WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON. HAT though, for showing truth to flatter'd state, WHAT Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he, As the sky-searching lark, and as elate. Took happy flights. Who shall his fame impair VIII. TO MY BROTHER. MALL, busy flames play through the fresh-laid coals, SMAL And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep Like whispers of the household gods that keep A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls. And while, for rhymes, I search around the poles, That aye at fall of night our care condoles. From its fair face shall bid our spirits fly. H IX. ADDRESSED TO HAYDON. "IGH-MINDEDNESS, a jealousy for good, A money-mongering, pitiable brood. G X. ADDRESSED TO THE SAME. REAT spirits now on earth are sojourning: Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing: He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: And lo! whose steadfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. And other spirits there are standing apart Upon the forehead of the age to come; These, these will give the world another heart, And other pulses. Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings? Listen awhile, ye nations, and be dumb. XI. ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER M UCH have I travell❜d in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes / He stared at the Pacific-and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise · Silent, upon a peak in Darien. XII. ON LEAVING SOME FRIENDS AT AN EARLY HOUR. YIVE me a golden pen, and let me lean G On heap'd-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Let me write down a line of glorious tone, K XIII. EEN fitful gusts are whispering here and there And I have many miles on foot to fare; Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, That in a little cottage I have found; |