book i

. l. 768.--ED.

THE POET AND THE CAGED TURTLEDOVE[672]

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount. This dove was one of a pair that had been given to my daughter by our excellent friend, Miss Jewsbury,[673] who went to India with her husband, Mr. Fletcher, where she died of cholera. The dove survived its mate many years, and was killed, to our great sorrow, by a neighbour's cat that got in at the window and dragged it partly out of the cage. These verses were composed extempore, to the letter, in the Terrace Summer-house before spoken of. It was the habit of the bird to begin cooing and murmuring whenever it heard me making my verses.--I.F.]

One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--ED.

As often as I murmur here My half-formed melodies, Straight from her osier mansion near, The Turtledove replies: Though silent as a leaf before, 5 The captive promptly coos; Is it to teach her own soft lore, Or second my weak Muse?

I rather think, the gentle Dove Is murmuring a reproof, 10 Displeased that I from lays of love Have dared to keep aloof; That I, a Bard of hill and dale, Have carolled, fancy free,[674] As if nor dove nor nightingale, 15 Had heart or voice for me.

If such thy meaning, O forbear, Sweet Bird! to do me wrong; Love, blessed Love, is every where The spirit of my song: 20 'Mid grove, and by the calm fireside, Love animates my lyre-- That coo again!--'tis not to chide, I feel, but to inspire.

FOOTNOTES:

[672] In a MS. letter to Sir George Beaumont I find the poem entitled "Twenty minutes Exercise on the Terrace last night, but Scene within doors."--ED.

[673] Compare the Sonnet beginning--

While Anna's peers and early playmates tread (p. 168.)--ED.

[674] Compare _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, act II. scene i. l. 164.--ED.

PRESENTIMENTS

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

[Written at Rydal Mount.--I. F.]

One of the "Poems of the Imagination."--ED.

Presentiments! they judge not right Who deem that ye from open light Retire in fear of shame; All _heaven-born_ Instincts shun the touch Of vulgar sense,--and, being such, 5 Such privilege ye claim.

The tear whose source I could not guess, The deep sigh that seemed fatherless, Were mine in early days; And now, unforced by time to