ETURN content, for fondly I pursued,
Even when a child, the streams, unheard, unseen,
Through tangled woods, impending rocks between;
Or, free as air, with flying inquest viewed
The sullen reservoirs whence their bold brood,
Pure as the morning, fretful, boisterous, keen,
Green as the salt sea billows, white and green,
Poured down the hills, a choral multitude!
Nor have I tracked their course for scanty gains;
They taught me random cares and truant joys,
That shield from mischief and preserve from stains
Vague minds, while men are growing out of boys;
Maturer Fancy owes to their rough noise
Impetuous thoughts that brook not servile reins.
REE from the cottage corner, see how wild
The village boy along the pasture hies,
With every smell and sound and sight beguiled,
That round the prospect meets his wondering eyes;
Now, stooping eager for the cowslip peeps,
As though he'd get them all,-now tired of these
Across the flaggy brook he eager leaps
For some new flower his happy rapture sees;
Now, leering 'mid the bushes on his knees,
On woodland banks for blue-bell flowers he creeps;
And now while looking up among the trees,
He spies a nest, and down he throws his flowers,
And up he climbs with new-fed ecstasies,
The happiest object in the summer hours.
O! where the stripling, wrapt in wonder, roves
Beneath the precipice o'erhung with pine;
And sees on high amidst the encircling groves,
From cliff to cliff the foaming torrents shine:
While waters, woods, and winds in concert join,
And echo swells the chorus to the skies.
Would Edwin this majestic scene resign
For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies?
Ah, no! he better knows great nature's charms to prize.
And oft he traced the uplands to survey,
When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn,
The crimson cloud, blue main, and mountain grey,
And lake, dim-gleaming on the smoky lawn;
Far to the west the long, long vale withdrawn,
Where twilight loves to linger for a while;
And now he faintly kens the bounding fawn,
And villager abroad at early toil;
But, lo! the sun appears! and heaven, earth, ocean smile.
THE CHILD IN THE WILDERNESS.
And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb,
When all in mist the world below was lost-
What dreadful pleasure there to stand sublime,
Like shipwrecked mariner on desert coast,
And view the enormous waste of vapour tossed
In billows, lengthening to the horizon round,
Now scooped in gulfs, with mountains now embossed.
And hear the voice of mirth and song rebound,
Flocks, herds, and waterfalls along the hoar profound!
In truth he was a strange and wayward wight,
Fond of each gentle and each dreadful scene;
In darkness and in storm he found delight,
Not less than when on ocean wave serene,
The southern sun diffused his dazzling sheen.
Even sad vicissitude amused his soul;
And if a sigh would sometimes intervene,
And down his cheek a tear of pity roll,
A sigh, a tear so sweet, he wished not to control.
THE CHILD IN THE WILDERNESS.
NCINCTURED in a twine of leaves,
That leafy twine his only dress,
A lovely boy was plucking fruits
In a moonlit wilderness.
The moon was bright, the air was free,
And fruits and flowers together grew,
And many a shrub and many a tree;
And all put on a gentle hue,
Hanging in the shadowy air,
Like a picture rich and rare.
It was a climate where they say
The night is more beloved than day.
But who that beauteous boy beguiled
That beauteous boy!-to linger here?
Alone by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild
Has he no friend, no loving mother near?
O the foundations of his mind were laid,
In such communion, not from terror free,
While yet a child, and long before his time,
Had he perceived the presence and the power
Of greatness; and deep feelings had impressed
Great objects on his mind, with portraiture
And colour so distinct, that on his mind
They lay like substances, and almost seemed
To haunt the bodily sense. He had received
A precious gift; for, as he grew in years,
With these impressions would he still compare
All his remembrances, thoughts, shapes, and forms,
And, being still unsatisfied with aught
Of dimmer character, he thence attained
An active power to fasten images
Upon his brain; and on their pictured lines
Intensely brooded, even till they acquired
The liveliness of dreams. Nor did he fail,
While yet a child, with a child's eagerness,
Incessantly to turn his ear and eye
On all things which the moving seasons brought
To feed such appetite; nor this alone
Appeased his yearning :-in the after day
Of boyhood, many an hour in caves forlorn,
And 'mid the hollow depths of naked crags
He sat, and even in their fixed lineaments,
Or from the power of a peculiar eye,
Or by creative feeling overborne,
Or by predominance of thought oppressed,
Even in their fixed and steady lineaments
He traced an ebbing and a flowing mind,
Expression ever varying!
He had small need of books; for many a tale
Traditionary round the mountains hung,
And many a legend peopling the dark woods,
Nourished imagination in her growth,
And gave the mind that apprehensive power
By which she is made quick to recognise
The moral properties and scope of things.
|