The being one, and one the element. There lies the channel and original bed, From the beginning hollow'd out and scoop'd For man's affections-else betray'd and lost, And swallow'd up 'mid deserts infinite! This is the genuine course, the aim, and end Of prescient reason; all conclusions else Are abject, vain, presumptuous, and perverse. The faith partaking of those holy times, Life, I repeat, is energy of love, Divine or human, exercised in pain, In strife, and tribulation, and ordain'd, If so approved and sanctified, to pass, Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy."
Poet's Address to the State and Church of England-The Pastor not inferior to the ancient worthies of the Church-He begins his narratives with an instance of unrequited love -Anguish of mind subdued-And how-The lonely miner an instance of perseverance, which leads by contrast to an example of abused talents, irresolution, and weaknessSolitary, applying this covertly to his own case, asks for an instance of some stranger whose dispositions may have led him to end his days here-Pastor, in answer, gives an account of the harmonizing influence of solitude upon two men of opposite principles, who had encountered agitations in public life-The rule by which peace may be obtained expressed-And where-Solitary hints at an overpowering Fatality-Answer of the Pastor-What subjects he will exclude from his narrative; conversation upon thisInstance of an unamiable character, a female-And why given-Contrasted with this, a meek sufferer, from unguarded and betrayed love-Instance of heavier guilt-And its consequences to the offender-With this instance of a marriage contract broken is contrasted one of a widower, evincing his faithful affection towards his deceased wife by his care of their female children-Second marriage of widower prudential and happy.
HAIL to the crown by freedom shaped to gird An English sovereign's brow-and to the throne Whereon he sits! whose deep foundations lie In veneration and the people's love; Whose steps are equity, whose seat is law. -Hail to the State of England! And conjoin With this a salutation as devout,
Made to the spiritual fabric of her Church; Founded in truth; by blood of martyrdom Cemented; by the hands of wisdom rear'd In beauty of holiness, with order'd pomp, Decent and unreproved. The voice, that greets The majesty of both, shall pray for both; That mutually protected and sustain'd, They may endure as long as sea surrounds This favour'd land, or sunshine warms her soil. And oh, ye swelling hills, and spacious plains! Besprent from shore to shore with steeple-towers, And spires whose "silent finger points to heaven;" Nor wanting, at wide intervals, the bulk Of ancient minster, lifted above the cloud
Of the dense air which town or city breeds To intercept the sun's glad beams-may ne'er That true succession fail of English hearts, That can perceive, not less than heretofore Our ancestors did feelingly perceive, What in those holy structures ye possess Of ornamental interest, and the charm Of pious sentiment diffused afar, And human charity, and social love. Thus never shall th' indignities of time Approach their reverend graces unopposed: Nor shall the elements be free to hurt Their fair proportions; nor the blinder rage Of bigot zeal madly to overturn; And, if the desolating hand of war Spare them, they shall continue to bestow, Upon the throng'd abodes of busy men (Depraved, and ever prone to fill their minds Exclusively with transitory things) An air and mien of dignified pursuit ; Of sweet civility on rustic wilds.
The poet, fostering for his native land
Such hope, entreats that servants may abound Of those pure altars worthy; ministers Detach'd from pleasure, to the love of gain Superior, insusceptible of pride,
And by ambition's longings undisturb'd; Men, whose delight is where their duty leads Or fixes them; whose least distinguish'd day Shines with some portion of that heavenly lustre Which makes the Sabbath lovely in the sight Of blessed angels, pitying human cares. And, as on earth it is the doom of truth To be perpetually attack'd by foes Open or covert, be that priesthood still, For her defence, replenish'd with a band Of strenuous champions, in scholastic arts Thoroughly disciplined; nor (if in course Of the revolving world's disturbances
Cause should recur, which righteous Heaven avert ! To meet such trial) from their spiritual sires Degenerate; who, constrain'd to wield the sword Ot disputation, shrunk not, though assail'd
With hostile din, and combating in sight
Of angry umpires, partial and unjust; And did, thereafter, bathe their hands in fire,
So to declare the conscience satisfied:
Nor for their bodies would accept release;
But, blessing God and praising him, bequeath'd
With their last breath, from out the smouldering flame, The faith which they by diligence had earn'd. And through illuminating grace received, For their dear countrymen, and all mankind. O high example, constancy divino !
Even such a man (inheriting the zeal And from the sanctity of elder times Not deviating,-a priest, the like of whom, If multiplied, and in their stations set, Would o'er the bosom of a joyful land Spread true religion and her genuine fruits) Before me stood that day; on holy ground Fraught with the relics of mortality, Exalting tender themes, by just degrees To lofty raised; and to the highest, last; The head and mighty paramount of truths; Immortal life, in never-fading worlds, For mortal creatures, conquer'd and secured,
That basis laid, those principles of faith Announced, as a preparatory act Of reverence to the spirit of the place, The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground; Not, as before, like one oppress'd with awe, But with a mild and social cheerfulness; Then to the Solitary turn'd and spake.
"At morn or eve, in your retired domain, Perchance you not unfrequently have mark'd A visitor, intent upon the task
Of prying, low and high, for herbs and flowers; Too delicate employ, as would appear,
For one who, though of drooping mien, had yet From nature's kindliness received a frame Robust as ever rural labour bred."
The Solitary answer'd: "Such a form Full well I recollect. We often cross'd Each other's path; but, as th' intruder seem'd Fondly to prize the silence which he kept, And I as willingly did cherish mine,
We met, and pass'd like shadows. I have heard, From my good host, that he was crazed in brain By unrequited love, and scaled the rocks, Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods, In hope to find some virtuous herb of power To cure his malady!"
"Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down, His habitation will be here: for him
That open grave is destined."
Of pain and grief?" the Solitary ask'd;
"Believe it not-oh, never could that be!"
"He loved," the Vicar answer'd, "deeply loved, Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and pined When he had told his love, and sued in vain ; Rejected, yea repell'd; and, if with scorn Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but
THE EXCURSION-THE CHURCHYARD, ETC. A high-prized plume which female beauty wears. That he could brook, and glory in; but when The tidings came that she whom he had woo'd Was wedded to another, and his heart Was forced to rend away its only hope; Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth An object worthier of regard than he,
In the transition of that bitter hour.
Lost was she-lost! nor could the sufferer say That in the act of preference he had been Unjustly dealt with; but the maid was gone! She, whose dear name with unregarded sighs He long had bless'd, whose image was preserved- Shrined in his breast with fond idolatry, Had vanish'd from his prospects and desires; Not by translation to the heavenly choir Who have put off their mortal spoils-ah no! She lives another's wishes to complete, Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried,- His lot and hers, as misery is mine!'
"Such was that strong concussion; but the man,
Who trembled, trunk and limbs, like some huge oak By a fierce tempest shaken, soon resumed
The steadfast quiet natural to a mind
Of composition gentle and sedate,
And, in its movements, circumspect and slow.
Of rustic parents bred, he had been train'd
So prompted their aspiring wish) to skill
in numbers, and the sedentary art
Of penmanship,-with pride profess'd, and taught By his endeavours in the mountain dales. Tow, those sad tidings weighing on his heart, o books, and papers, and the studious desk, e stoutly re-address'd himself-resolved o quell his pain, and enter on the path f old pursuits with keener appetite nd closer industry. Of what ensued ithin his soul no outward sign appear'd, ll a betraying sickliness was seen
- tinge his cheek; and through his frame it crept ith slow mutation unconcealable;
ch universal change as autumn makes the fair body of a leafy grove colour'd, then divested. "Tis affirm'd poets skill'd in Nature's secret ways at Love would not submit to be controll'd mastery and the good man lack'd not friends to strove t' instil this truth into his mind, ind in all heart-mysteries unversed. to the hills,' said one, 'remit a while s baneful diligence: at early morn
By calculations sage, the ebb and flow Of tides, and when the moon will be eclipsed, Do you, for your own benefit, construct
A calendar of flow'rs, pluck'd as they blow Where health abides, and cheerfulness and peace.' Th' attempt was made; 'tis needless to report How hopelessly; but innocence is strong, And an entire simplicity of mind
A thing most sacred in the eye of Heaven, That opens, for such sufferers, relief
Within their souls, a fount of grace divine;
And doth commend their weakness and disease To Nature's care, assisted in her office By all the elements that round her wait To generate, to preserve, and to restore; And by her beautiful array of forms
Shedding sweet influence from above, or pure Delight exhaling from the ground they tread." "Impute it not t' impatience, if," exclaim'd The Wanderer, "I infer that he was heal'd By perseverance in the course prescribed."
"You do not err: the powers, which had been lost By slow degrees, were gradually regain'd;
The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart In rest establish'd; and the jarring thoughts To harmony restored. But yon dark mould Will cover him; in height of strength-to earth Hastily smitten, by a fever's force;
Yet not with stroke so sudden as refused Time to look back with tenderness on her Whom he had loved in passion, and to send
Some farewell words; and, with those words, a prayer That, from his dying hand, she would accept Of his possessions, that which most he prized, A book, upon the surface of whose leaves Some chosen plants, disposed with nicest care, In undecaying beauty were preserved. Mute register, to him, of time and place, And various fluctuations in the breast; To her, a monument of faithful love Conquer'd, and in tranquillity retain'd. "Close to his destined habitation, lies One whose endeavours did at length achieve A victory less worthy of regard,
Though marvellous in its kind. A place exists High in these mountains, that allured a band Of keen adventurers to unite their pains, In search of treasure there by nature form'd,
And there conceal'd: but they who tried were foil'd, And all desisted, all, save him alone;
Who taking counsel of his own clear thoughts,
And trusting only to his own weak hands,
Urged unremittingly the stubborn work,
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