part 10

With fancy, I obey my heart, And venture on your praise.

What though some busy foes to good, Too potent over nerve and blood, Lurk near you--and combine 15 To taint the health which ye infuse; This hides not from the moral Muse Your origin divine.

How oft from you, derided Powers! Comes Faith that in auspicious hours 20 Builds castles, not of air: Bodings unsanctioned by the will Flow from your visionary skill, And teach us to beware.

The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, 25 That no philosophy can lift, Shall vanish, if ye please, Like morning mist: and, where it lay, The spirits at your bidding play In gaiety and ease. 30

Star-guided contemplations move Through space, though calm, not raised above Prognostics that ye rule; The naked Indian of the wild, And haply, too, the cradled Child, 35 Are pupils of your school.

But who can fathom your intents, Number their signs or instruments? A rainbow, a sunbeam, A subtle smell that Spring unbinds, 40 Dead pause abrupt of midnight winds, An echo, or a dream.[675]

The laughter of the Christmas hearth With sighs of self-exhausted mirth Ye feelingly reprove; 45 And daily, in the conscious breast, Your visitations are a test And exercise of love.

When some great change gives boundless scope To an exulting Nation's hope, 50 Oft, startled and made wise By your low-breathed interpretings, The simply-meek foretaste the springs Of bitter contraries.

Ye daunt the proud array of war, 55 Pervade the lonely ocean far As sail hath been unfurled; For dancers in the festive hall What ghastly partners hath your call Fetched from the shadowy world. 60

'Tis said, that warnings ye dispense, Emboldened by a keener sense; That men have lived for whom, With dread precision, ye made clear The hour that in a distant year 65 Should knell them to the tomb.

Unwelcome insight! Yet there are Blest times when mystery is laid bare, Truth shows a glorious face, While on that isthmus which commands 70 The councils of both worlds, she stands, Sage Spirits! by your grace.

God, who instructs the brutes to scent All changes of the element, Whose wisdom fixed the scale 75 Of natures, for our wants provides By higher, sometimes humbler, guides, When lights of reason fail.

FOOTNOTES:

[675] Compare Robert Browning's _Bishop Blougram's Apology_, ll. 191-197--

... there's a sunset-touch, A fancy from a flower-bell, some one's death, A chorus-ending from Euripides,--. And that's enough for fifty hopes and fears As old and new at once as Nature's self, To rap and knock and enter in our soul, Take hands and dance there, a fantastic ring, etc.--ED.

"IN THESE FAIR VALES HATH MANY A TREE"

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

[Engraven, during my absence in Italy, upon a brass plate inserted in the Stone.--I. F.]

This poem was classed among the "Inscriptions." In 1835 its title was _Inscription intended for a Stone in the grounds of Rydal Mount_. In 1845, and afterwards, the first line of the poem was its only title.--ED.

In these fair vales hath many a Tree At Wordsworth's suit been spared; And from the builder's hand this Stone, For some rude beauty of its own, Was rescued by the Bard: 5 So let it rest; and time will come When here the tender-hearted May heave a gentle sigh for him, As one of the departed.

The inscription is still preserved on the "brass plate inserted in the stone," within the grounds at Rydal Mount.--ED.

ELEGIAC MUSINGS

IN THE GROUNDS OF COLEORTON HALL, THE SEAT OF THE LATE[676] SIR G.H. BEAUMONT, BART.

Composed 1830.--Published 1835

In these grounds stands the Parish Church, wherein is a mural monument bearing an inscription which,[677] in deference to the earnest request of the deceased, is confined to name, dates, and these words:--"Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord!"--W. W.

[These verses were in part composed on horseback during a storm, while I was on my way from Colcorton to Cambridge: they are alluded to elsewhere.[678]--I.F.]

One of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."--ED.

With copious eulogy in prose or rhyme[679] Graven on the tomb we struggle against Time, Alas, how feebly! but our feelings rise And still we struggle when a good man dies: Such offering BEAUMONT dreaded and forbade, 5 A spirit meek in self-abasement clad. Yet _here_ at least, though few have numbered days That shunned so modestly the light of praise, His graceful manners, and the temperate ray Of that arch fancy which would round him play, 10 Brightening a converse never known to swerve From courtesy and delicate reserve; That sense, the bland philosophy of life, Which checked discussion ere it warmed to strife; Those rare accomplishments,[680] and varied powers, 15 Might have their record among sylvan bowers. Oh, fled for ever! vanished like a blast That shook the leaves in myriads as it passed;-- Gone from this world of earth, air, sea, and sky, From all its spirit-moving imagery, 20 Intensely studied with a painter's eye, A poet's heart; and, for congenial view, Portrayed with happiest pencil, not untrue To common recognitions while the line Flowed in a course of sympathy divine;-- 25 Oh! severed, too abruptly, from delights That all the seasons shared with equal rights;-- Rapt in the grace of undismantled age, From soul-felt music, and the treasured page Lit by that evening lamp which loved to shed 30 Its mellow lustre round thy honoured head; While Friends beheld thee give with eye, voice, mien, More than theatric force to Shakspeare's scene;--[681] If thou hast heard me--if thy Spirit know 34 Aught of these powers and whence their pleasures flow; If things in our remembrance held so dear, And thoughts and projects fondly cherished here, To thy exalted nature only seem Time's vanities, light fragments of earth's dream-- Rebuke us not![682]--The mandate is obeyed 40 That said, "Let praise be mute where I am laid;" The holier deprecation, given in trust To the cold marble, waits upon thy dust; Yet have we found how slowly genuine grief From _silent_ admiration wins relief. 45 Too long abashed thy Name is like a rose That doth "within itself its sweetness close;"[683] A drooping daisy changed into a cup In which her bright-eyed beauty is shut up. Within these groves, where still are flitting by 50 Shades of the Past, oft noticed with a sigh, Shall stand a votive Tablet,[684] haply free, When towers and temples fall, to speak of Thee! If sculptured emblems of our mortal doom Recal not there the wisdom of the Tomb, 55 Green ivy risen from out the cheerful earth, Will[685] fringe the lettered stone; and herbs spring forth, Whose fragrance, by soft dews and rain unbound, Shall penetrate the heart without a wound; While truth and love their purposes fulfil, 60 Commemorating genius, talent, skill, That could not lie concealed where Thou wert known; Thy virtues _He_ must judge, and He alone, The God upon whose mercy they are thrown.

FOOTNOTES:

[676] Sir George Beaumont died on 7th February 1827.--ED.

[677] 1837.

upon which, 1835.

[678] See the Fenwick note to the next poem.--ED.

[679] 1837.

... and rhyme 1835.

[680] 1837.

Those fine accomplishments 1835.

[681] Sir George Beaumont used frequently to read Shakspeare aloud to his household and friends at Coleorton.--ED.

[682] 1837.

... Shakespeare's scene-- Rebuke us not!-- 1835.

[683] See, in Constable's "England's Helicon," Dametus' song to his Diaphenia, stanza 2--

Diaphenia like the spreading roses That in thy sweets all sweet encloses.

Also in Fairfax's translation of Tasso's _Godfrey of Bullogne; or the_ _Recovery of Jerusalem_,