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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-11 14:21:11 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-11 14:21:11 -0800 |
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| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75349-0.txt b/75349-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e14dc9b --- /dev/null +++ b/75349-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,802 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75349 *** + + + + + + RAMBLES + IN + WALTHAM FOREST. + + + A + + STRANGER’S CONTRIBUTION + + TO + + THE TRIENNIAL SALE + + FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE + + =Wanstead Lying-in Charity.= + + + “Silver and gold have I none;—but such as I have, give I thee.” + ACTS, iii. 6. + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY J. L. COX, 75, GREAT QUEEN STREET, + LINCOLN’S-INN FIELDS. + + 1827. + + + + + WALTHAM FOREST. + + + Land of soft showers and far-extending vales, + And woodlands fanned by summer’s gentlest gales, + And streams, that glisten as they steal, half hid + The tangled brake and waving sedge amid; + Land!—where rich plenty with abounding flow, 5 + Bids ’neath her smile the golden meadow glow, + And from the juicy herbage—Nature’s wealth! + Draws the pure stream of sustenance and health; + Land—where, beneath Wealth’s hospitable dome, + Refinement dwells, and Science finds a home,— 10 + In whose sweet sylvan shades the classic Muse + Her richer buds upon thy green lap strews; + With thy soft breath her tuneful whisper blends, + And to the Poet’s home her brightness lends,— + Smiles at his hearth, dispels the gath’ring tear, 15 + And—dating all from Heaven—makes one _here_. + Nor fears the power of her spell will cease, + Breathed from the altar of domestic peace;[1] + Land! where my pilgrim foot in peace hath strayed, + And traced out many a fresh and grassy glade, 20 + Smiling in sunlight, whilst, like former dreams, + Dimly afar the mighty City gleams; + Where o’er its lines the dancing sunbeams play, + Gilding each roof with morning’s brilliant ray— + I hail thee!—not mine own—but still dear clime! 25 + Fair spread thy vales! and bright thy waters shine! + Thy flowers,—thy glens, and health-restoring breeze + Fraught with the song of birds, the hum of bees, + The low of kine, and voices clear and sweet, + That link us to the world in our retreat,— 30 + These, and the grateful spell—that magic zone— + Of social pleasures o’er thy beauties thrown— + Endear thy shades, and give thy forest bowers + The tranquil charm of gay and guiltless hours. + Peaceful the day rolls here! and Friendship’s tongue— 35 + That sweetest music!—breathes thy glades among, + Charming life’s harsher discords into peace; + Bidding anxiety’s sad warning cease,— + Twining with wreaths of hope a falling shrine, + Crowning with flowers the pale cold brow of Time. 40 + I love thy calm! The storm-beat pinnace, driven + Before the stern breath of the threat’ning heaven, + Lies in some little bay, whose waters sleep, + Cradled by rocks from the surrounding deep: + And thus thy gentle shades seem formed to be 45 + A quiet haven from a troubled sea. + Here Nature walks in brightness, and each star + Is as an altar, lit by her afar, + To His great name who bound the radiant sphere. + Each on its path foreknown, their song we hear 50 + Hymning along the pure and cloudless sky + The awful story of their mystery; + For the mind tracks them, as their course they take, + E’en as with tongues of men their voices spake. + Then,—Day!—with her bright chaplet’s rosy braid, 55 + In all her living hues of light arrayed, + Comes fresh o’er the green heath, and shakes the dew + From her light sandall’d foot, whose blushing hue + Seems as she trod on roses.—And, at eve, + With ling’ring steps, as weary pilgrims leave 60 + The shrine they love, calm sinks the sun’s last ray, + And dovelike silence soothes the wearied day; + And Time’s swift sand in noiseless current flows, + There is nought here to break the still repose.— + Nought of the stir—the strife—the mental war— 65 + Of that vast Babylon, scarce seen afar; + Where on the blue horizon’s distant verge, + Its cloudy breath floats like a rolling surge; + And in dim majesty its sacred dome, + As it would rise to seek a purer home, 70 + Soaring sublime above the denser sky— + A type of Time and Immortality!— + Beams through the yellow mist, and brings again + The dreams of splendour—affluence—pleasure—gain. + And better visions:—for within thy walls, 75 + London! the silent, secret blessing falls + Promised to those who, bowing not the knee + To Baal, ’mid the land’s idolatry, + The scoff of science, and the smile of pride,— + The flash of wit, and talent misapplied,— 80 + Blush not to own, to serve with humble zeal + (Impressed with self-denial’s graven seal) + The God who formed them! nor reject the hand + That beckons onward t’wards the promised land; + And, pierced for us,—sets the world’s captive free— 85 + _His_ hardest service this—“believe on me.” + Aye, there be many ’mid thy darkest cells, + City, where ev’ry vice and sorrow dwells! + Who bind the harvest in no pleasant field, + Reaping with tears the increase it may yield! 90 + Yet on the tablets of the age record— + “I and my house will humbly serve the Lord!” + Amid thy darkness bid Truth brightly shine, + Strong to redeem the evil of the time. + Vast City! from my dwelling’s quiet shade 95 + I see thee in thy cloudy pomp arrayed, + And scarce can deem thy rush of crowds so near, + Whilst nought but Nature’s voice is stirring here! + And bees, and birds, and forest glades are nigh, + To soothe the ear and tempt the gladden’d eye. 100 + Here the fawn looks from out the blossom’d brakes,— + From dewy lawns the lark’s clear hymn awakes; + The dimpling stream marks where the bright fish glide, + And the fair lily clusters o’er its tide; + The kine in scatter’d groups, with patient gaze, 105 + Shine, golden-chestnut, in the sun’s glad rays; + And the gale breathes as fresh, the sky as bright, + As if no fane of Mammon met the sight! + No city on the dimm’d horizon lay + A cloud, which but a breeze might waft away: 110 + So faint the trace of yon stupendous mart, + Where gold can buy—all!—genius—fame, and art! + And yet, fair scenes! these charms so well thine own, + Live to the many slandered or unknown; + Capricious Fancy, with fantastic choice, 115 + For distant beauties, gives her casting voice; + To the remotest shores our isle supplies + Turns the faint gaze of her long dazzled eyes; + Shuns the rich plenty of a daily feast, + What most attainable, still valued least! 120 + When from the thronged metropolis we rove + To seek the healthful gale, and bow’ry grove; + By the far Lakes, or Caledonia’s shore, + She bids our steps her mazy path explore; + In Katrine’s mirror watch the mountains sleep, 125 + And wander on Helvellyn’s mighty steep; + Or where the belting Severn rolls sublime + Her copious stream, full as the tide of time, + By rock and headland wander idly by;— + Or trace thy bowers—my own romantic Wye! 130 + Oh pardon!—no false renegade to thee, + With well pleased eye these milder shades I see;— + Their’s is the grace of Nature, deck’d by art, + But thou art ever nearest to my heart! + And I the well-remember’d past should wrong, 135 + Neglecting thee, e’en in a transient song! + Oh! who could silent pass a scene less fair, + If life had dawned, and hope had blossom’d there! + If youth’s bright flowers in gay variety + Thy soil had nursed—no matter _where_ to die, 140 + If happiness—that gift of early years! + Had marked each scene which contrast more endears; + If long-loved voices seem to haunt the place, + And forms _there_ hover, which no hand may trace; + If the dread seal of the all-silent grave, 145 + Still uneffaced by Time’s slow-rolling wave, + Had marked the lines of some one treasur’d spot + On memory’s tablet;—who that page would blot! + No;—far from my fond hand to snatch one gem + From thy soft beauty’s regal diadem: 150 + Queen of the rock! nymph of the silent shade! + Muse of the glen where my young feet have strayed; + Though now, a pilgrim, from those paths I fly, + ’Mid all the goodly scenes that greet mine eye, + Their rich variety of vale and hill— 155 + Thy smile is brightest—purest—loveliest still! + Away—thy banks I may not linger near; + Sweet stream! whose murmurs yet are on my ear;— + The scene around me, rich in autumn’s glow, + Untrack’d by path, unbroken by the plough, 160 + Where all unseen the pensive foot may roam, + Is best befitting a recluse’s home. + It is a place of trees; their sweeping boughs + Clash in the autumn’s gusts, their crowned brows + Rise upon ev’ry steep, and throng the glade 165 + With a rich mass of varied light and shade. + I love the wildness of the far spread scene: + Now lost, now caught the golden checquer’d beam, + Dancing the mossy trunks and boughs amid, + And now in depths of thicker verdure hid; 170 + Whilst the far rolling of the laden wain, + Rich in its autumn store of golden grain, + Or the faint sound of the revolving wheel + Through the low-sighing branches seems to steal + Broken and fitful, o’er the extatic song 175 + Of the free lark, his summer clouds among. + I love thee, Land! and where such beauties shine, + Ask not, in niggard phrase, if thou art mine? + That here the eye is pleased—the foot is free— + And the pulse healthful, is enough for me! 180 + Yet art thou wrong’d—the pen, that seal of fame + Whose magic impress gilds or blights a name, + Hath striken thee;[2]—a base and coward dart! + I fain would pluck the arrow from thy heart; + Erase th’ accusing blot with just applause, 185 + Nor spare a lance to skirmish in thy cause! + Oh! say not health avoids this balmy gale, + Or flies the pathway down that dewy vale! + Skim o’er the plain! thread the wide mazy heath, + Bright with her smile, and fragrant with her breath! 190 + Doubt the dry slander of the technic sage, + And, closing his, read Nature’s gentler page! + Come with me where, o’er blythe and fertile meads, + My step untired the mould’ring abbey[3] leads; + Shorn of its beams, still o’er its woods it tow’rs, 195 + A wreck, which yet recals its prouder hours. + Gaze on the sculptur’d arch, the massive aisle, + The niche where saint or martyr seemed to smile; + (Dwellers in heaven, and only called below + Our faith to strengthen, or to soothe our woe;) 200 + The plunder’d altar in its fall behold, + Once heaped with far-sought relics, gems, and gold; + Where a king knelt,[4] the penance vow to pay, + And the mailed warrior came his spoils to lay; + Where the doomed Saxon, zealous for his race, 205 + Deemed he endowed their last proud dwelling-place; + With wealth—and lands—enriched the holy shrine + Where he should sleep—the latest of his line! + Come to that vacant shrine—though—such the doom + Of greatness—here we trace not _e’en his tomb_! 210 + All that this pile so changed can now record, + Is that, bowed down before the Norman’s sword, + Here the pale mother, with vain fondness, gave + Her murder’d Harold that sad boon—a grave! + Or, turning from the deeds of other days, 215 + Towards yon deep groves direct the pensive gaze. + Come with me where, from many a foreign clime, + The varied marbles rise, the gildings shine; + To the free sky and laughing summer’s beam, + The paintings glow, the costly frescoes gleam; 220 + And, by the idle winds of heaven laid bare, + Pomp’s gaudy pageant smiles in mock’ry there. + WANSTEAD!—thou spell to stay mirth’s flowing tide, + Warning!—to daunt the regal brow of pride, + Ruin!—which sunk in premature decay, 225 + From ev’ry levell’d column seems to say: + “Thus human wisdom plans for endless time, + “Thus vice and folly mar the proud design;” + ’Tis good to wander through thy palace bowers, + And tread the site of thy once stately towers! 230 + From thy thick shades what mournful thoughts arise! + Through thy far groves the sounding axe replies; + Down sinks the pile! and ruin spreads o’er all + The silence of its dark funereal pall. + Dower of woe! a rich but fatal boon, 235 + The “gilding fretted from the toy too soon;” + Is this thy wreck, a beacon, raised to tell + How vain the wealth—the pomp—we love so well? + How _nothing_ all the splendour and the taste, + Once redolent upon this mournful waste! 240 + Turn to your humbler roofs! and bless your lot, + Ye, who can claim the bliss-ennobled cot! + If, ’neath the russet thatch and lowly dome, + Peace—and her sister virtue, make their home; + Lament not thou thy board of frugal fare, 245 + But with full heart ask heaven’s blessing there! + Thy prayer as free will come, as pure will rise, + As if through column’d roofs it sought the skies. + It is not marble—sculpture—painting—gold— + Can deck the page of life by time unrolled! 250 + And grandeur moulders—levelled with the mean, + To warn us of the reed on which we lean. + Alas! _her_ breast who owned this wide domain + Sighed for the calm of cottage homes in vain! + She dwelt within this master-piece of art 255 + With blighted visions—and a breaking heart. + Turned on its pomps a faint accusing eye, + And asked—and vainly asked—in peace to die. + Come, from this scene so desolately fair, + Where through “the Grove”[5] soft plays the summer air; 260 + And wooingly the sun with ev’ry breeze + Kisses the glad leaves of the whisp’ring trees; + Gilding their trunks, and on each dewy spray + Hanging a gem that sparkles in his ray. + There the magnolia’s snowy blossoms gleam, 265 + Amid their glossy leaves’ umbrageous screen; + There the pale orange scents the languid gales, + And starry jasmine its sweet breath exhales; + There the rich tribes of far Columbia’s plain, + In clustering bloom awake to life again; 270 + Glow the acacia’s trembling shade beneath, + Or through the crimson sumach’s palm-like leaf; + On the bright turf a gem-like radiance throw, + And glisten on the tranquil wave below. + Trace thou that bowery vista’s green alcove! 275 + Through the long avenue in silence rove— + Look through the woven boughs’ fine tracery, + On the clear, blue, and joy-inspiring sky! + Oh, lovely face of Nature!—who can view + Thy smile rejoicing, nor be happy too? 280 + What heart can thy enduring wonder scan, + And see unrolled thy wide and glorious plan; + Bask in thy glow, drink in thy living hues, + Yet the deep homage of the heart refuse, + To Him, who in such loveliness arrayed 285 + Those charms of thine, which guilt alone could fade; + And, e’er thy sin-bought doom of change began, + Saw thou wert good, and gave the boon to man! + By the green margin of that fairy lake, + List!—for the lark’s wild music is awake, 290 + And the low murmur of the ring-dove’s note + Steals musically, from her shade remote; + The willow-spray upon the calm wave sleeps, + The gilded trout from its still mirror leaps; + Bright wings are glancing the free boughs among, 295 + And bills of happy birds make one glad song! + It is the home of Taste; her wand has laid + A gentler beauty o’er the sylvan shade; + Bade the fair trees in richer masses grow, + With brighter hues the painted flowers glow; 300 + No gilding strikes, no marbles court the eye, + But, rich alone in Nature’s symmetry, + To this retreat the fabled Nymphs repair, + And deem they find their long-lost Tempe there; + Hang o’er the brink of the transparent waves, 305 + Sleep where the pendant rose its garland laves; + Or idly on the velvet margin stray, + And watch the gentle waters glide away. + Not here the pomp of Grandeur’s cumbrous state, + Here gentle Peace and polished Taste await. 310 + _His_ mind who planned this smiling solitude + With that pure feeling that directs the good; + On Nature’s brow the votive chaplet placed, + And loved the spot by her soft beauty graced; + Turned from the stately dome—the busy crowd— 315 + And to a simpler shrine in homage bowed; + With true ambition earned a purer fame, + Whilst the poor bless their benefactor’s name! + And here the gentle smile of Courtesy + Still holds the spell-bound step and gladden’d eye. 320 + Taste, which with never-sated eye explores + The changeful loveliness of distant shores; + Yet, like the bee, how far soe’er it roam, + Treasures their varied spoils to deck its home; + Taste and refinement give the rosy hours 325 + A winged speed in these delightful bowers! + Here gentle converse in soft witchery blends; + Here rank with graceful suavity descends; + Nor, with the jealousy of meanness, deems + Its splendour lessened by the smile it beams! 330 + With true nobility of mind, unknown + To pride, not _firmly_ seated on its throne, + With its warm smile the less distinguished cheers, + Exacting, claiming naught, the more endears; + And with real dignity’s resistless sway, 335 + _Deserves_ the homage that we gladly pay. + Here in the social circle gaily meet + The polished ease that makes the hours so fleet; + Wit’s harmless play, and music’s tuneful spell, + That whisper’d magic the heart knows so well! 340 + And the sweet pencil’s ever-pleasing trace, + Which makes eternal, beauty’s transient grace, + Here bids the flower in fresher bloom and hue, + On the fair page its flush of life renew; + Whilst many an alpine height and distant plain, 345 + Touched by the hand of genius, smiles again. + Here too, on walls bright with the ev’ning rays, + Thy magic wand of classic fancy plays + Angelica![6] whose pencil’s graceful line + Gives life and tint to sculpture’s chaste design; 350 + Here thine Arcadian groups and attic scenes + Seem the Elysium of a poet’s dreams, + The fair embodied forms which fancy shews, + When the pleased mind luxuriates in repose, + When bright romance the ’witching harp has strung 355 + And o’er the bard her robe of glamour flung. + But now—’tis not from fiction’s flow’ry urn + The cup I fill! To truth’s pure stream I turn; + For WANSTEAD! thy embowering shades amid, + ’Wake dearer feelings, deeper thoughts lie hid! 360 + It may be from my chosen theme I stray, + On friendship’s shrine a votive wreath to lay; + A wreath unworthy of a shrine so dear, + And placed, perhaps, with failing courage here. + For what have the soul’s treasured thoughts to do 365 + With the calm page that meets the stranger’s view? + But could I pass that spot unnoted by, + Dear to my heart, and welcome to mine eye; + And when with honoured names the lay I twine, + Refuse to gem the braid—loved friend—with thine! 370 + My friend of many years! when yet a child, + To me life’s far perspective only smiled; + When (all my paradise of being, met + In that maternal love which sooths me yet; + That cherished parent’s dear and tender care, 375 + Which then, as now, my ev’ry hope would share) + No tongue of change, and altered feelings, told, + No lip smiled proudly, and no eye glanced cold; + When with glad hand I loosed the silken sail, + And launched my bark on pleasure’s sportive gale; 380 + Fearing no coming gloom on wave or sky, + No blasts unkind my fairy pinnance nigh. + ’Twas thine to point the doom of all below, + The sentence—e’en when writ on flowers—of “_woe_;”— + That fatal word, howe’er we hide the smart, 385 + So deeply graven on the human heart; + That cull each bud! joy’s sparkling goblet fill + In vain! for there we read the legend still. + ’Twas thine who, as the child in stature grew, + Held truth’s clear mirror to my dazzled view; 390 + Warned me of fancy’s too prevailing sway, + Whispered how evanescent youth’s bright day! + And told me that the scene I deemed so fair, + Had many a thorn of trial lurking there. + Instructress! from whose lips improvement came, 395 + And study lost the rigour of its name, + Friend! still by time and circumstance untried, + Forgive the homage of a filial pride! + Forgive, if from the brief excursive lay + I pause, love’s light and willing debt to pay. 400 + My minstrel harp in vain would ask my care, + If memory’s were a chord forbidden there; + And little worth, that heartless verse, I deem, + Unconsecrate by friendship’s steady beam. + No! vain the varied wreath of tuneful song 405 + If the heart’s language speak not with the tongue! + Without true feeling, bright the page may be, + But ’tis a cold and fickle brilliancy, + The dazzling light of the sun’s glancing rays, + When on the glacier’s arrowy point it plays; 410 + Oh! fairer far that sun’s refulgent lines, + Where on the cotter’s roof its brightness shines, + Gilding the village green, the ivied tower, + Tipping with light each blade and dewy flower; + Smiling in sweet repose, his glad adieu, 415 + All nature radiant with his glowing hue. + Thus cheering, bright’ning o’er earth’s darker soil, + Affection’s sunbeam gilds our daily toil; + That arduous post we all are called to fill, + In the set battle betwixt good and ill! 420 + Vain _there_ the subtlest panoply of proof, + Take thou nor spear, nor buckler, save the truth. + What are thy vaunted saws—Philosophy! + Summed up and brought before the Christian’s eye? + What all the comeliness of human schemes 425 + For living, dying tranquilly?—what!—_dreams!_ + Impostors! swallowed by the Aaron’s rod + Of that one simple axiom—“trust in God.” + In _His_ pure worship even sorrow heals, + And the heart lightens with the pang it feels; 430 + Unlike the trifles that our minds employ, + Ending in sorrow, though begun in joy, + Religion pours a balm with ev’ry tear, + And reaps her golden harvest even here! + Give me one hour in holy converse spent, 435 + For a whole age of indolent content! + Give me the friend who guides my steps aright, + Nor fears to bring my errors to my sight: + With tenderness the heart’s fond guile unrobes, + But to the core with steady courage probes, 440 + Points, as my path, not that I _wish_ to see, + But the unbending _right_, as thou to me, + My long-loved friend! whose roof, a second home, + More welcome smiles than wealth’s most costly dome. + Full long the pilgrim’s sandall’d foot would tread, 445 + Thy wood-paths, WANSTEAD, by affection led; + But hark! yon deep and silent woods among, + Wakes the low music of the poet’s song; + The breath of his sweet lyre, on breezes borne, + Floats, where of old the hunter’s stirring horn[7] 450 + Called to the echoes, that through dell and glade + Spake in their jocund tongues, from every shade. + Whilst knight and damsel, in their vests of green, + Throng’d, gay and graceful, round their huntress-queen; + And the proud stag caught from afar the strain, 455 + Tossed his broad brow, and sought his woods again. + There now the hind, in fern-clad hollows hid, + Couches the pendant weeds and flowers amid, + Or tripping light, her velvets gemmed with dew, + With a shy wildness glances on the view, 460 + Turns her fair neck with momentary gaze, + Then plunges in the covert’s verdant maze; + There now the pheasant’s shrilly note is heard, + There in blest freedom lives each happy bird; + The partridge brings in peace her covey there, 465 + And fears no danger but the fox’s lair; + No thundering gun the startled echoes know, + And e’en the timid lev’ret dreads no foe. + Come! when the moon in silvery lustre sleeps, + And climb with me the forest’s mossy steeps; 470 + There, o’er the dewy turf, all bathed in light, + The playful hare scuds from the stranger’s sight, + Or calmly pastures on the glist’ning blade, + Whilst the lone owl hoots from his ivied shade. + ’Neath yon wide oak the deep’ning shadows dwell, 475 + And darkly glance upon the “brocket well,” + That from the twisted roots its stream distils, + Nursed in the bosom of the shelt’ring hills; + Whilst on that brow the beeches’ lofty height, + Waves in the clearness of the azure night; 480 + And in wild murmurs sigh the fresh’ning gales, + Through the deep arches of their leafy aisles. + Come to the poet’s study! no proud dome + Rich in the polish’d lore of Greece and Rome, + And painting’s wonders, sculpture’s magic grace, 485 + Which bids the rock a god’s bright features trace. + No, here, beneath the “branching elms star-proof,” + Rises in peace the low and simple roof; + Birds sing above, and flowers blossom nigh, + And the blue glimpses of the cloudless sky 490 + Through woven boughs and russet thatch look forth, + Like thoughts of heav’n amid the cares of earth! + And here pure thoughts and holiest visions come, + And find within this grot their tranquil home; + Here not the fever of excited minds 495 + Its baleful food in headlong passion finds, + To poison turns the flower’d chalice, given + To the bard’s hand by an all-bounteous heaven, + Changing that magic, that might heal the soul, + To Comus’ mocking rod and Circe’s bowl. 500 + Oh! better far! here o’er the poet’s lyre, + Hovers a ray of purer, brighter, fire; + And lips that glow with genius’ heaven-sprung flame, + Breathe back the sacred incense whence it came! + But ye! who with my lay have wandered on, 505 + That lay is spent, the pilgrim’s shrine is won. + Not now, not now, beside Castalia’s streams, + I ask a fabled muse to aid my dreams, + Or spread on poesy’s too frolic gale + The varied woof of fancy’s tissued sail, 515 + Or bid the star-led bark of fairy land, + Glide in wild music, from the lonely strand. + In Nature’s praise I frame the simple lay, + Through her delightful paths in freedom stray; + Weaving my garland, in whose braid I twine 520 + Names, that might blush to gem a wreath of mine, + Did not true fame shun the pretender’s boast, + Exacting least where it might claim the most. + Let such forgive, that on their native plain + A stranger’s lute takes up the votive strain! 525 + Not mine to wake the poet’s golden lyre, + Its thrilling chords, and soul-ennobling fire; + Or its sweet sorrow, like the ev’ning’s breath, + Or dew, upon the light and glossy leaf; + Not mine the power to weave the tuneful spell, 530 + And draw a spirit from the sounding shell; + No! to my trembling fingers give instead + The oaten stop and simple shepherd’s reed! + I have no muse but Truth;—I ask no art + To write her lessons on the gentle heart; 535 + Simple and plain in her own strength she stands, + Nor needs the weak support of human hands. + A granite column, firm and unadorned, + As if the pomp of ornament she scorned; + Truth borrows not the glare of gems or gold, 540 + Her name, a charm that needs but to be told! + And with her,—inmates of the humble cell, + Where, linked in love, the Christian graces dwell;— + That best and loveliest, whose welcome feet + The mountain tops in rays of gladness greet, 545 + As o’er the earth her noiseless step is stayed, + Healing each bitter wound that sin has made, + Comes;—like the rainbow o’er the stormy cloud! + Or pardon to the wretch in fetters bowed; + Or the sweet dash of waters on the ear, 550 + Gladd’ning the desert-pilgrim’s path of fear.— + Whilst earth rejoices, smiles the bright’ning sky + Beneath thy step—benignant Charity! + Can’st _thou_ want advocates?—Did not the voice + Which bade fall’n nature in her bonds rejoice, 555 + And, graven on her page of trial, see + “Health to the stricken!—set the pris’ner free!” + Did not that voice, which sin’s fast bondage brake, + And bade, from death’s deep rest, the slumb’rer wake, + Without _this chiefest_ all our gifts declare 560 + As tinkling metal, or as tinsel’s glare? + Is there a duty, nearer than the rest, + Whose links are twined so close about the breast? + In the fair structure of creation’s plan, + Uniting all, and binding man to man? 565 + ’Tis this!—By this to us our God has given + A portion of the privilege of heaven, + The joy of blessing!—He, who wipes the tear + From every mourner’s brow who sorrows here, + Intrusts the sceptre to his creature’s hand, 570 + “Go and do likewise!” His benign command, + In fellowship with man, his task partakes + Wherever Charity’s pure zeal awakes; + How poor soe’er the votive cup, its brim + O’erflows with wine, if poured from love to Him; 575 + And He is with us in the humblest deed + That serves mankind, _His_ smile our golden meed! + If strong, this fairest virtue’s earnest claim, + Ah—let not _here_ her cause be urged in vain! + Shall we the less her soft’ning influence feel, 580 + Because the weak are objects of our zeal? + Because the poor—the sick—the suffering, plead + Through her, to us, in this their hour of need? + Ye!—in whose softer bosoms ought to move + The tranquil whispers of a purer love; 585 + Ye!—to whose gentler fost’ring hand ’tis given + To shield the plant whose native clime is heaven; + Its tender shoots to bind with sweet control, + And for its future Eden fit the soul; + Upon whose bosom its soft form reclines, 590 + Sheltered from gathering clouds, and rending winds. + Ye!—who hang o’er these blossoms of your love, + And trust to see them perfected above, + Say—can ye gaze upon your happy home, + A mother’s hopes, and quiet pleasures own; 595 + From infancy’s soft lips that dear name hear, + Its half-formed accents blessed to your ear! + And sweet its cares implied, nor turn to those + Who bear—in poverty—a mother’s woes? + Daughter of wealth!—whose breast hath never known 600 + Want’s bitter pang, misfortune’s stifled groan; + If,—in the fountain of thy woman’s heart + Pity and sympathising love have part,— + When such a claim we proffer—pass not by + Or turn away with cold averted eye! 605 + Go—open Nature’s book, and she will tell + How potent is Compassion’s silent spell; + Making worth nobler,—loveliness more fair, + And talent brighter for the tear they spare. + Or in a richer volume, humbly read 610 + The blessing promised to one kindly deed; + Not unrequited, for the master’s sake + We give the cup, his pilgrim’s thirst to slake. + And when Benevolence, with accents bland, + Endears the largess of the ready hand, 615 + The off’ring on no barren shrine is laid, + The vow to no ungracious master paid; + But the Redeemer’s mild approving smile + Beams on the sacrifice and lights the pile. + And infancy is sacred, for it drew 620 + A blessing down—in the assembled view + Of those first gleaners in the promised land, + His true disciples’ firm united band + The Saviour stood—with brow serene and mild, + And held amid the crowd, “a little child.” 625 + And as upon his tranquil breast it lay + With dimpled lip and eye of placid ray, + Confiding, fearless, in his tender care, + Thus spake,—“Behold! the Christian’s model there! + Be as this babe in gentleness and love, 630 + For such shall form my heritage above; + And whosoe’er with pitying eye shall see + But one—the least of these—receiveth me! + And from the Father’s hand, with blessing stored, + May claim the faithful servant’s rich reward.” 635 + Go then—when charity and mercy plead + Be the heart strong to prompt the bounteous deed! + Fear not to trust its inmost whispers there, + But all its energy and fervour share; + Happy!—one bosom flower to cull at last 640 + O’er which the blight of sin hath never passed! + Happy—that from this fount of pain and woe + A stainless stream may still in brightness flow; + Happy!—in memory’s wreath one bud to set + On which the bloom of Eden lingers yet! 645 + + + + + NOTES. + + + “_Breathed from the altar of domestic peace._”—page 2. + +Footnote 1: + + Whoever has had the privilege of a visit to Fair Mead Lodge, will feel + that Essex has the honour of being the chosen residence of at least + one poet, who, in this age of independance and human perfectability, + is not too proud to “look through Nature up to Nature’s God.” + + + “_The pen,— + Hath stricken thee._”— page 9. + +Footnote 2: + + Dr. Armstrong, the physician-poet, has fulminated an alarming + denunciation against poor Essex; witness the startling allegory of the + ague in his “Art of Preserving Health.” The countenances of the + natives are fair commentaries, not to establish, but to controvert his + doctrine. That there are some marshy districts within the two hundred + and twenty-five miles of its circumference is indisputable, but it is + hard to threaten a whole country with the unacceptable visits of “the + meagre fiend Quartana,” who is represented by the Doctor as + domesticated there. + + + “_My step untired the mould’ring abbey leads._”—page 10. + +Footnote 3: + + Waltham Abbey, first founded by Tovi, standard-bearer to Canute, for + the reception of a holy cross, brought thither, say the learned, by a + miracle.—Edward the Confessor gave it to Harold, who enriched it with + amazing wealth; and, falling at the battle of Hastings, was, with his + brothers, buried in the Abbey his zeal had almost re-endowed, by their + mother Githa. His tomb of stone was some years since to be seen. + + + “_Where a king knelt, the penance vow to pay._”—page 10. + +Footnote 4: + + Henry II. having vowed to _erect_ an Abbey to the honour of God and + Saint Thomas-á-Becket, as an expiation for the crime of that prelate’s + death, seems, skilfully enough, to have construed his vow with a + prudent attention to his own interests; for he came to Waltham Abbey + on the Vigils of Pentecost, June the 3d 1177, and having procured a + charter of Pope Alexander the Third, changed the old foundation of + seculars of the Benedictine order, to an Abbey of regular canons of + the order of Saint Augustin, increasing the number to sixteen. At the + same time, it must be allowed, he enriched the church with many new + manors, re-endowed, (Stow says, rebuilt it) and promised to augment + its revenue, till it should support one hundred canons. This last + promise, the king, with his numerous avocations, _forgot_. + + + “_Where through ‘the Grove’ soft plays the summer air._”—page 13. + +Footnote 5: + + Wanstead Grove, the seat of the Hon. Mrs. Rushout, and formerly the + residence of George Bowles, Esq., a residence justly distinguished for + the public spirit and benevolence of its late, and the amenity and + elegant taste of its present owner. + + + “_Angelica! whose pencil’s graceful line._”—page 17. + +Footnote 6: + + A rich collection of Angelica Kauffman’s most exquisite pieces + commemorate the liberal patronage she received from the former + possessor of the mansion; nor are her works in a spot where they + cannot be fully enjoyed and appreciated. + + + “_Floats, where of old the hunter’s stirring horn._”—page 21. + +Footnote 7: + + Fair-Mead Lodge, the residence of Wm. Sotheby, Esq., preserves the + memory of a spot from whence Queen Elizabeth and her ladies, when + hunting in the forest, were wont to station themselves, to witness the + chase. The Queen’s Lodge, farther in the forest, occupies a high + ground amongst some fine trees. A dilapidated farmhouse is now the + only relic of the royal mansion, and the scene where Leicester “drew + his ’broidered rein” beside the palfrey of that Queen he would fain + have governed, is now a lonely rabbit-warren. The outlines of the + garden parterres and a fish-pond are still to be traced. + + + FINIS. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY J. L. COX, GREAT QUEEN STREET. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Line 515 should be renumbered as line 510. Subsequent lines should be + numbered accordingly, starting from 515. The original numbering was + not corrected. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75349 *** diff --git a/75349-h/75349-h.htm b/75349-h/75349-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..945bfe0 --- /dev/null +++ b/75349-h/75349-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,947 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Rambles in Waltham Forest | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; } + h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; } + .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; + text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; + border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; 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} + .x-ebookmaker .covernote { visibility: visible; display: block; } + h1 {line-height: 150%; } + .footnote {font-size: .9em; } + div.footnote p {text-indent: 2em; margin-bottom: .5em; } + .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } + body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } + table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; + clear: both; } + div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .blackletter {font-family: 'Old English Text MT', serif; font-weight:bold; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + .lnum {float: right; text-indent: 2em; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75349 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c001'><span class='xlarge'>RAMBLES</span><br> <span class='small'>IN</span><br> WALTHAM FOREST.</h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div><span class='small'>A</span></div> + <div class='c003'>STRANGER’S CONTRIBUTION</div> + <div class='c003'><span class='small'>TO</span></div> + <div class='c003'>THE TRIENNIAL SALE</div> + <div class='c003'><span class='small'>FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE</span></div> + <div class='c003'><span class='large'><span class='blackletter'>Wanstead Lying-in Charity.</span></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Silver and gold have I none;—but such as I have, give I thee.”</div> + <div class='line in58'><span class='sc'>Acts</span>, iii. 6.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>LONDON:</div> + <div>PRINTED BY J. L. COX, 75, GREAT QUEEN STREET,</div> + <div>LINCOLN’S-INN FIELDS.</div> + <div class='c003'>1827.</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> + <h2 class='c005'>WALTHAM FOREST.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>Land of soft showers and far-extending vales,</div> + <div class='line'>And woodlands fanned by summer’s gentlest gales,</div> + <div class='line'>And streams, that glisten as they steal, half hid</div> + <div class='line'>The tangled brake and waving sedge amid;</div> + <div class='line'>Land!—where rich plenty with abounding flow, <span class='lnum'>5</span></div> + <div class='line'>Bids ’neath her smile the golden meadow glow,</div> + <div class='line'>And from the juicy herbage—Nature’s wealth!</div> + <div class='line'>Draws the pure stream of sustenance and health;</div> + <div class='line'>Land—where, beneath Wealth’s hospitable dome,</div> + <div class='line'>Refinement dwells, and Science finds a home,— <span class='lnum'>10</span></div> + <div class='line'>In whose sweet sylvan shades the classic Muse</div> + <div class='line'>Her richer buds upon thy green lap strews;</div> + <div class='line'>With thy soft breath her tuneful whisper blends,</div> + <div class='line'>And to the Poet’s home her brightness lends,—</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>Smiles at his hearth, dispels the gath’ring tear, <span class='lnum'>15</span></div> + <div class='line'>And—dating all from Heaven—makes one <em>here</em>.</div> + <div class='line'>Nor fears the power of her spell will cease,</div> + <div class='line'>Breathed from the altar of domestic peace;<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c006'><sup>[1]</sup></a></div> + <div class='line'>Land! where my pilgrim foot in peace hath strayed,</div> + <div class='line'>And traced out many a fresh and grassy glade, <span class='lnum'>20</span></div> + <div class='line'>Smiling in sunlight, whilst, like former dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>Dimly afar the mighty City gleams;</div> + <div class='line'>Where o’er its lines the dancing sunbeams play,</div> + <div class='line'>Gilding each roof with morning’s brilliant ray—</div> + <div class='line'>I hail thee!—not mine own—but still dear clime! <span class='lnum'>25</span></div> + <div class='line'>Fair spread thy vales! and bright thy waters shine!</div> + <div class='line'>Thy flowers,—thy glens, and health-restoring breeze</div> + <div class='line'>Fraught with the song of birds, the hum of bees,</div> + <div class='line'>The low of kine, and voices clear and sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>That link us to the world in our retreat,— <span class='lnum'>30</span></div> + <div class='line'>These, and the grateful spell—that magic zone—</div> + <div class='line'>Of social pleasures o’er thy beauties thrown—</div> + <div class='line'>Endear thy shades, and give thy forest bowers</div> + <div class='line'>The tranquil charm of gay and guiltless hours.</div> + <div class='line'>Peaceful the day rolls here! and Friendship’s tongue— <span class='lnum'>35</span></div> + <div class='line'>That sweetest music!—breathes thy glades among,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>Charming life’s harsher discords into peace;</div> + <div class='line'>Bidding anxiety’s sad warning cease,—</div> + <div class='line'>Twining with wreaths of hope a falling shrine,</div> + <div class='line'>Crowning with flowers the pale cold brow of Time. <span class='lnum'>40</span></div> + <div class='line'>I love thy calm! The storm-beat pinnace, driven</div> + <div class='line'>Before the stern breath of the threat’ning heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>Lies in some little bay, whose waters sleep,</div> + <div class='line'>Cradled by rocks from the surrounding deep:</div> + <div class='line'>And thus thy gentle shades seem formed to be <span class='lnum'>45</span></div> + <div class='line'>A quiet haven from a troubled sea.</div> + <div class='line'>Here Nature walks in brightness, and each star</div> + <div class='line'>Is as an altar, lit by her afar,</div> + <div class='line'>To His great name who bound the radiant sphere.</div> + <div class='line'>Each on its path foreknown, their song we hear <span class='lnum'>50</span></div> + <div class='line'>Hymning along the pure and cloudless sky</div> + <div class='line'>The awful story of their mystery;</div> + <div class='line'>For the mind tracks them, as their course they take,</div> + <div class='line'>E’en as with tongues of men their voices spake.</div> + <div class='line'>Then,—Day!—with her bright chaplet’s rosy braid, <span class='lnum'>55</span></div> + <div class='line'>In all her living hues of light arrayed,</div> + <div class='line'>Comes fresh o’er the green heath, and shakes the dew</div> + <div class='line'>From her light sandall’d foot, whose blushing hue</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>Seems as she trod on roses.—And, at eve,</div> + <div class='line'>With ling’ring steps, as weary pilgrims leave <span class='lnum'>60</span></div> + <div class='line'>The shrine they love, calm sinks the sun’s last ray,</div> + <div class='line'>And dovelike silence soothes the wearied day;</div> + <div class='line'>And Time’s swift sand in noiseless current flows,</div> + <div class='line'>There is nought here to break the still repose.—</div> + <div class='line'>Nought of the stir—the strife—the mental war— <span class='lnum'>65</span></div> + <div class='line'>Of that vast Babylon, scarce seen afar;</div> + <div class='line'>Where on the blue horizon’s distant verge,</div> + <div class='line'>Its cloudy breath floats like a rolling surge;</div> + <div class='line'>And in dim majesty its sacred dome,</div> + <div class='line'>As it would rise to seek a purer home, <span class='lnum'>70</span></div> + <div class='line'>Soaring sublime above the denser sky—</div> + <div class='line'>A type of Time and Immortality!—</div> + <div class='line'>Beams through the yellow mist, and brings again</div> + <div class='line'>The dreams of splendour—affluence—pleasure—gain.</div> + <div class='line'>And better visions:—for within thy walls, <span class='lnum'>75</span></div> + <div class='line'>London! the silent, secret blessing falls</div> + <div class='line'>Promised to those who, bowing not the knee</div> + <div class='line'>To Baal, ’mid the land’s idolatry,</div> + <div class='line'>The scoff of science, and the smile of pride,—</div> + <div class='line'>The flash of wit, and talent misapplied,— <span class='lnum'>80</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>Blush not to own, to serve with humble zeal</div> + <div class='line'>(Impressed with self-denial’s graven seal)</div> + <div class='line'>The God who formed them! nor reject the hand</div> + <div class='line'>That beckons onward t’wards the promised land;</div> + <div class='line'>And, pierced for us,—sets the world’s captive free— <span class='lnum'>85</span></div> + <div class='line'><em>His</em> hardest service this—“believe on me.”</div> + <div class='line'>Aye, there be many ’mid thy darkest cells,</div> + <div class='line'>City, where ev’ry vice and sorrow dwells!</div> + <div class='line'>Who bind the harvest in no pleasant field,</div> + <div class='line'>Reaping with tears the increase it may yield! <span class='lnum'>90</span></div> + <div class='line'>Yet on the tablets of the age record—</div> + <div class='line'>“I and my house will humbly serve the Lord!”</div> + <div class='line'>Amid thy darkness bid Truth brightly shine,</div> + <div class='line'>Strong to redeem the evil of the time.</div> + <div class='line'>Vast City! from my dwelling’s quiet shade <span class='lnum'>95</span></div> + <div class='line'>I see thee in thy cloudy pomp arrayed,</div> + <div class='line'>And scarce can deem thy rush of crowds so near,</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst nought but Nature’s voice is stirring here!</div> + <div class='line'>And bees, and birds, and forest glades are nigh,</div> + <div class='line'>To soothe the ear and tempt the gladden’d eye. <span class='lnum'>100</span></div> + <div class='line'>Here the fawn looks from out the blossom’d brakes,—</div> + <div class='line'>From dewy lawns the lark’s clear hymn awakes;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>The dimpling stream marks where the bright fish glide,</div> + <div class='line'>And the fair lily clusters o’er its tide;</div> + <div class='line'>The kine in scatter’d groups, with patient gaze, <span class='lnum'>105</span></div> + <div class='line'>Shine, golden-chestnut, in the sun’s glad rays;</div> + <div class='line'>And the gale breathes as fresh, the sky as bright,</div> + <div class='line'>As if no fane of Mammon met the sight!</div> + <div class='line'>No city on the dimm’d horizon lay</div> + <div class='line'>A cloud, which but a breeze might waft away: <span class='lnum'>110</span></div> + <div class='line'>So faint the trace of yon stupendous mart,</div> + <div class='line'>Where gold can buy—all!—genius—fame, and art!</div> + <div class='line'>And yet, fair scenes! these charms so well thine own,</div> + <div class='line'>Live to the many slandered or unknown;</div> + <div class='line'>Capricious Fancy, with fantastic choice, <span class='lnum'>115</span></div> + <div class='line'>For distant beauties, gives her casting voice;</div> + <div class='line'>To the remotest shores our isle supplies</div> + <div class='line'>Turns the faint gaze of her long dazzled eyes;</div> + <div class='line'>Shuns the rich plenty of a daily feast,</div> + <div class='line'>What most attainable, still valued least! <span class='lnum'>120</span></div> + <div class='line'>When from the thronged metropolis we rove</div> + <div class='line'>To seek the healthful gale, and bow’ry grove;</div> + <div class='line'>By the far Lakes, or Caledonia’s shore,</div> + <div class='line'>She bids our steps her mazy path explore;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>In Katrine’s mirror watch the mountains sleep, <span class='lnum'>125</span></div> + <div class='line'>And wander on Helvellyn’s mighty steep;</div> + <div class='line'>Or where the belting Severn rolls sublime</div> + <div class='line'>Her copious stream, full as the tide of time,</div> + <div class='line'>By rock and headland wander idly by;—</div> + <div class='line'>Or trace thy bowers—my own romantic Wye! <span class='lnum'>130</span></div> + <div class='line'>Oh pardon!—no false renegade to thee,</div> + <div class='line'>With well pleased eye these milder shades I see;—</div> + <div class='line'>Their’s is the grace of Nature, deck’d by art,</div> + <div class='line'>But thou art ever nearest to my heart!</div> + <div class='line'>And I the well-remember’d past should wrong, <span class='lnum'>135</span></div> + <div class='line'>Neglecting thee, e’en in a transient song!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! who could silent pass a scene less fair,</div> + <div class='line'>If life had dawned, and hope had blossom’d there!</div> + <div class='line'>If youth’s bright flowers in gay variety</div> + <div class='line'>Thy soil had nursed—no matter <em>where</em> to die, <span class='lnum'>140</span></div> + <div class='line'>If happiness—that gift of early years!</div> + <div class='line'>Had marked each scene which contrast more endears;</div> + <div class='line'>If long-loved voices seem to haunt the place,</div> + <div class='line'>And forms <em>there</em> hover, which no hand may trace;</div> + <div class='line'>If the dread seal of the all-silent grave, <span class='lnum'>145</span></div> + <div class='line'>Still uneffaced by Time’s slow-rolling wave,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Had marked the lines of some one treasur’d spot</div> + <div class='line'>On memory’s tablet;—who that page would blot!</div> + <div class='line'>No;—far from my fond hand to snatch one gem</div> + <div class='line'>From thy soft beauty’s regal diadem: <span class='lnum'>150</span></div> + <div class='line'>Queen of the rock! nymph of the silent shade!</div> + <div class='line'>Muse of the glen where my young feet have strayed;</div> + <div class='line'>Though now, a pilgrim, from those paths I fly,</div> + <div class='line'>’Mid all the goodly scenes that greet mine eye,</div> + <div class='line'>Their rich variety of vale and hill— <span class='lnum'>155</span></div> + <div class='line'>Thy smile is brightest—purest—loveliest still!</div> + <div class='line'>Away—thy banks I may not linger near;</div> + <div class='line'>Sweet stream! whose murmurs yet are on my ear;—</div> + <div class='line'>The scene around me, rich in autumn’s glow,</div> + <div class='line'>Untrack’d by path, unbroken by the plough, <span class='lnum'>160</span></div> + <div class='line'>Where all unseen the pensive foot may roam,</div> + <div class='line'>Is best befitting a recluse’s home.</div> + <div class='line'>It is a place of trees; their sweeping boughs</div> + <div class='line'>Clash in the autumn’s gusts, their crowned brows</div> + <div class='line'>Rise upon ev’ry steep, and throng the glade <span class='lnum'>165</span></div> + <div class='line'>With a rich mass of varied light and shade.</div> + <div class='line'>I love the wildness of the far spread scene:</div> + <div class='line'>Now lost, now caught the golden checquer’d beam,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>Dancing the mossy trunks and boughs amid,</div> + <div class='line'>And now in depths of thicker verdure hid; <span class='lnum'>170</span></div> + <div class='line'>Whilst the far rolling of the laden wain,</div> + <div class='line'>Rich in its autumn store of golden grain,</div> + <div class='line'>Or the faint sound of the revolving wheel</div> + <div class='line'>Through the low-sighing branches seems to steal</div> + <div class='line'>Broken and fitful, o’er the extatic song <span class='lnum'>175</span></div> + <div class='line'>Of the free lark, his summer clouds among.</div> + <div class='line'>I love thee, Land! and where such beauties shine,</div> + <div class='line'>Ask not, in niggard phrase, if thou art mine?</div> + <div class='line'>That here the eye is pleased—the foot is free—</div> + <div class='line'>And the pulse healthful, is enough for me! <span class='lnum'>180</span></div> + <div class='line'>Yet art thou wrong’d—the pen, that seal of fame</div> + <div class='line'>Whose magic impress gilds or blights a name,</div> + <div class='line'>Hath striken thee;<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c006'><sup>[2]</sup></a>—a base and coward dart!</div> + <div class='line'>I fain would pluck the arrow from thy heart;</div> + <div class='line'>Erase th’ accusing blot with just applause, <span class='lnum'>185</span></div> + <div class='line'>Nor spare a lance to skirmish in thy cause!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! say not health avoids this balmy gale,</div> + <div class='line'>Or flies the pathway down that dewy vale!</div> + <div class='line'>Skim o’er the plain! thread the wide mazy heath,</div> + <div class='line'>Bright with her smile, and fragrant with her breath! <span class='lnum'>190</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>Doubt the dry slander of the technic sage,</div> + <div class='line'>And, closing his, read Nature’s gentler page!</div> + <div class='line'>Come with me where, o’er blythe and fertile meads,</div> + <div class='line'>My step untired the mould’ring abbey<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c006'><sup>[3]</sup></a> leads;</div> + <div class='line'>Shorn of its beams, still o’er its woods it tow’rs, <span class='lnum'>195</span></div> + <div class='line'>A wreck, which yet recals its prouder hours.</div> + <div class='line'>Gaze on the sculptur’d arch, the massive aisle,</div> + <div class='line'>The niche where saint or martyr seemed to smile;</div> + <div class='line'>(Dwellers in heaven, and only called below</div> + <div class='line'>Our faith to strengthen, or to soothe our woe;) <span class='lnum'>200</span></div> + <div class='line'>The plunder’d altar in its fall behold,</div> + <div class='line'>Once heaped with far-sought relics, gems, and gold;</div> + <div class='line'>Where a king knelt,<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c006'><sup>[4]</sup></a> the penance vow to pay,</div> + <div class='line'>And the mailed warrior came his spoils to lay;</div> + <div class='line'>Where the doomed Saxon, zealous for his race, <span class='lnum'>205</span></div> + <div class='line'>Deemed he endowed their last proud dwelling-place;</div> + <div class='line'>With wealth—and lands—enriched the holy shrine</div> + <div class='line'>Where he should sleep—the latest of his line!</div> + <div class='line'>Come to that vacant shrine—though—such the doom</div> + <div class='line'>Of greatness—here we trace not <em>e’en his tomb</em>! <span class='lnum'>210</span></div> + <div class='line'>All that this pile so changed can now record,</div> + <div class='line'>Is that, bowed down before the Norman’s sword,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>Here the pale mother, with vain fondness, gave</div> + <div class='line'>Her murder’d Harold that sad boon—a grave!</div> + <div class='line'>Or, turning from the deeds of other days, <span class='lnum'>215</span></div> + <div class='line'>Towards yon deep groves direct the pensive gaze.</div> + <div class='line'>Come with me where, from many a foreign clime,</div> + <div class='line'>The varied marbles rise, the gildings shine;</div> + <div class='line'>To the free sky and laughing summer’s beam,</div> + <div class='line'>The paintings glow, the costly frescoes gleam; <span class='lnum'>220</span></div> + <div class='line'>And, by the idle winds of heaven laid bare,</div> + <div class='line'>Pomp’s gaudy pageant smiles in mock’ry there.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Wanstead!</span>—thou spell to stay mirth’s flowing tide,</div> + <div class='line'>Warning!—to daunt the regal brow of pride,</div> + <div class='line'>Ruin!—which sunk in premature decay, <span class='lnum'>225</span></div> + <div class='line'>From ev’ry levell’d column seems to say:</div> + <div class='line'>“Thus human wisdom plans for endless time,</div> + <div class='line'>“Thus vice and folly mar the proud design;”</div> + <div class='line'>’Tis good to wander through thy palace bowers,</div> + <div class='line'>And tread the site of thy once stately towers! <span class='lnum'>230</span></div> + <div class='line'>From thy thick shades what mournful thoughts arise!</div> + <div class='line'>Through thy far groves the sounding axe replies;</div> + <div class='line'>Down sinks the pile! and ruin spreads o’er all</div> + <div class='line'>The silence of its dark funereal pall.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>Dower of woe! a rich but fatal boon, <span class='lnum'>235</span></div> + <div class='line'>The “gilding fretted from the toy too soon;”</div> + <div class='line'>Is this thy wreck, a beacon, raised to tell</div> + <div class='line'>How vain the wealth—the pomp—we love so well?</div> + <div class='line'>How <em>nothing</em> all the splendour and the taste,</div> + <div class='line'>Once redolent upon this mournful waste! <span class='lnum'>240</span></div> + <div class='line'>Turn to your humbler roofs! and bless your lot,</div> + <div class='line'>Ye, who can claim the bliss-ennobled cot!</div> + <div class='line'>If, ’neath the russet thatch and lowly dome,</div> + <div class='line'>Peace—and her sister virtue, make their home;</div> + <div class='line'>Lament not thou thy board of frugal fare, <span class='lnum'>245</span></div> + <div class='line'>But with full heart ask heaven’s blessing there!</div> + <div class='line'>Thy prayer as free will come, as pure will rise,</div> + <div class='line'>As if through column’d roofs it sought the skies.</div> + <div class='line'>It is not marble—sculpture—painting—gold—</div> + <div class='line'>Can deck the page of life by time unrolled! <span class='lnum'>250</span></div> + <div class='line'>And grandeur moulders—levelled with the mean,</div> + <div class='line'>To warn us of the reed on which we lean.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! <em>her</em> breast who owned this wide domain</div> + <div class='line'>Sighed for the calm of cottage homes in vain!</div> + <div class='line'>She dwelt within this master-piece of art <span class='lnum'>255</span></div> + <div class='line'>With blighted visions—and a breaking heart.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>Turned on its pomps a faint accusing eye,</div> + <div class='line'>And asked—and vainly asked—in peace to die.</div> + <div class='line'>Come, from this scene so desolately fair,</div> + <div class='line'>Where through “the Grove”<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c006'><sup>[5]</sup></a> soft plays the summer air; <span class='lnum'>260</span></div> + <div class='line'>And wooingly the sun with ev’ry breeze</div> + <div class='line'>Kisses the glad leaves of the whisp’ring trees;</div> + <div class='line'>Gilding their trunks, and on each dewy spray</div> + <div class='line'>Hanging a gem that sparkles in his ray.</div> + <div class='line'>There the magnolia’s snowy blossoms gleam, <span class='lnum'>265</span></div> + <div class='line'>Amid their glossy leaves’ umbrageous screen;</div> + <div class='line'>There the pale orange scents the languid gales,</div> + <div class='line'>And starry jasmine its sweet breath exhales;</div> + <div class='line'>There the rich tribes of far Columbia’s plain,</div> + <div class='line'>In clustering bloom awake to life again; <span class='lnum'>270</span></div> + <div class='line'>Glow the acacia’s trembling shade beneath,</div> + <div class='line'>Or through the crimson sumach’s palm-like leaf;</div> + <div class='line'>On the bright turf a gem-like radiance throw,</div> + <div class='line'>And glisten on the tranquil wave below.</div> + <div class='line'>Trace thou that bowery vista’s green alcove! <span class='lnum'>275</span></div> + <div class='line'>Through the long avenue in silence rove—</div> + <div class='line'>Look through the woven boughs’ fine tracery,</div> + <div class='line'>On the clear, blue, and joy-inspiring sky!</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>Oh, lovely face of Nature!—who can view</div> + <div class='line'>Thy smile rejoicing, nor be happy too? <span class='lnum'>280</span></div> + <div class='line'>What heart can thy enduring wonder scan,</div> + <div class='line'>And see unrolled thy wide and glorious plan;</div> + <div class='line'>Bask in thy glow, drink in thy living hues,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet the deep homage of the heart refuse,</div> + <div class='line'>To Him, who in such loveliness arrayed <span class='lnum'>285</span></div> + <div class='line'>Those charms of thine, which guilt alone could fade;</div> + <div class='line'>And, e’er thy sin-bought doom of change began,</div> + <div class='line'>Saw thou wert good, and gave the boon to man!</div> + <div class='line'>By the green margin of that fairy lake,</div> + <div class='line'>List!—for the lark’s wild music is awake, <span class='lnum'>290</span></div> + <div class='line'>And the low murmur of the ring-dove’s note</div> + <div class='line'>Steals musically, from her shade remote;</div> + <div class='line'>The willow-spray upon the calm wave sleeps,</div> + <div class='line'>The gilded trout from its still mirror leaps;</div> + <div class='line'>Bright wings are glancing the free boughs among, <span class='lnum'>295</span></div> + <div class='line'>And bills of happy birds make one glad song!</div> + <div class='line'>It is the home of Taste; her wand has laid</div> + <div class='line'>A gentler beauty o’er the sylvan shade;</div> + <div class='line'>Bade the fair trees in richer masses grow,</div> + <div class='line'>With brighter hues the painted flowers glow; <span class='lnum'>300</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>No gilding strikes, no marbles court the eye,</div> + <div class='line'>But, rich alone in Nature’s symmetry,</div> + <div class='line'>To this retreat the fabled Nymphs repair,</div> + <div class='line'>And deem they find their long-lost Tempe there;</div> + <div class='line'>Hang o’er the brink of the transparent waves, <span class='lnum'>305</span></div> + <div class='line'>Sleep where the pendant rose its garland laves;</div> + <div class='line'>Or idly on the velvet margin stray,</div> + <div class='line'>And watch the gentle waters glide away.</div> + <div class='line'>Not here the pomp of Grandeur’s cumbrous state,</div> + <div class='line'>Here gentle Peace and polished Taste await. <span class='lnum'>310</span></div> + <div class='line'><em>His</em> mind who planned this smiling solitude</div> + <div class='line'>With that pure feeling that directs the good;</div> + <div class='line'>On Nature’s brow the votive chaplet placed,</div> + <div class='line'>And loved the spot by her soft beauty graced;</div> + <div class='line'>Turned from the stately dome—the busy crowd— <span class='lnum'>315</span></div> + <div class='line'>And to a simpler shrine in homage bowed;</div> + <div class='line'>With true ambition earned a purer fame,</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst the poor bless their benefactor’s name!</div> + <div class='line'>And here the gentle smile of Courtesy</div> + <div class='line'>Still holds the spell-bound step and gladden’d eye. <span class='lnum'>320</span></div> + <div class='line'>Taste, which with never-sated eye explores</div> + <div class='line'>The changeful loveliness of distant shores;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>Yet, like the bee, how far soe’er it roam,</div> + <div class='line'>Treasures their varied spoils to deck its home;</div> + <div class='line'>Taste and refinement give the rosy hours <span class='lnum'>325</span></div> + <div class='line'>A winged speed in these delightful bowers!</div> + <div class='line'>Here gentle converse in soft witchery blends;</div> + <div class='line'>Here rank with graceful suavity descends;</div> + <div class='line'>Nor, with the jealousy of meanness, deems</div> + <div class='line'>Its splendour lessened by the smile it beams! <span class='lnum'>330</span></div> + <div class='line'>With true nobility of mind, unknown</div> + <div class='line'>To pride, not <em>firmly</em> seated on its throne,</div> + <div class='line'>With its warm smile the less distinguished cheers,</div> + <div class='line'>Exacting, claiming naught, the more endears;</div> + <div class='line'>And with real dignity’s resistless sway, <span class='lnum'>335</span></div> + <div class='line'><em>Deserves</em> the homage that we gladly pay.</div> + <div class='line'>Here in the social circle gaily meet</div> + <div class='line'>The polished ease that makes the hours so fleet;</div> + <div class='line'>Wit’s harmless play, and music’s tuneful spell,</div> + <div class='line'>That whisper’d magic the heart knows so well! <span class='lnum'>340</span></div> + <div class='line'>And the sweet pencil’s ever-pleasing trace,</div> + <div class='line'>Which makes eternal, beauty’s transient grace,</div> + <div class='line'>Here bids the flower in fresher bloom and hue,</div> + <div class='line'>On the fair page its flush of life renew;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>Whilst many an alpine height and distant plain, <span class='lnum'>345</span></div> + <div class='line'>Touched by the hand of genius, smiles again.</div> + <div class='line'>Here too, on walls bright with the ev’ning rays,</div> + <div class='line'>Thy magic wand of classic fancy plays</div> + <div class='line'>Angelica!<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c006'><sup>[6]</sup></a> whose pencil’s graceful line</div> + <div class='line'>Gives life and tint to sculpture’s chaste design; <span class='lnum'>350</span></div> + <div class='line'>Here thine Arcadian groups and attic scenes</div> + <div class='line'>Seem the Elysium of a poet’s dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>The fair embodied forms which fancy shews,</div> + <div class='line'>When the pleased mind luxuriates in repose,</div> + <div class='line'>When bright romance the ’witching harp has strung <span class='lnum'>355</span></div> + <div class='line'>And o’er the bard her robe of glamour flung.</div> + <div class='line'>But now—’tis not from fiction’s flow’ry urn</div> + <div class='line'>The cup I fill! To truth’s pure stream I turn;</div> + <div class='line'>For <span class='sc'>Wanstead</span>! thy embowering shades amid,</div> + <div class='line'>’Wake dearer feelings, deeper thoughts lie hid! <span class='lnum'>360</span></div> + <div class='line'>It may be from my chosen theme I stray,</div> + <div class='line'>On friendship’s shrine a votive wreath to lay;</div> + <div class='line'>A wreath unworthy of a shrine so dear,</div> + <div class='line'>And placed, perhaps, with failing courage here.</div> + <div class='line'>For what have the soul’s treasured thoughts to do <span class='lnum'>365</span></div> + <div class='line'>With the calm page that meets the stranger’s view?</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>But could I pass that spot unnoted by,</div> + <div class='line'>Dear to my heart, and welcome to mine eye;</div> + <div class='line'>And when with honoured names the lay I twine,</div> + <div class='line'>Refuse to gem the braid—loved friend—with thine! <span class='lnum'>370</span></div> + <div class='line'>My friend of many years! when yet a child,</div> + <div class='line'>To me life’s far perspective only smiled;</div> + <div class='line'>When (all my paradise of being, met</div> + <div class='line'>In that maternal love which sooths me yet;</div> + <div class='line'>That cherished parent’s dear and tender care, <span class='lnum'>375</span></div> + <div class='line'>Which then, as now, my ev’ry hope would share)</div> + <div class='line'>No tongue of change, and altered feelings, told,</div> + <div class='line'>No lip smiled proudly, and no eye glanced cold;</div> + <div class='line'>When with glad hand I loosed the silken sail,</div> + <div class='line'>And launched my bark on pleasure’s sportive gale; <span class='lnum'>380</span></div> + <div class='line'>Fearing no coming gloom on wave or sky,</div> + <div class='line'>No blasts unkind my fairy pinnance nigh.</div> + <div class='line'>’Twas thine to point the doom of all below,</div> + <div class='line'>The sentence—e’en when writ on flowers—of “<em>woe</em>;”—</div> + <div class='line'>That fatal word, howe’er we hide the smart, <span class='lnum'>385</span></div> + <div class='line'>So deeply graven on the human heart;</div> + <div class='line'>That cull each bud! joy’s sparkling goblet fill</div> + <div class='line'>In vain! for there we read the legend still.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>’Twas thine who, as the child in stature grew,</div> + <div class='line'>Held truth’s clear mirror to my dazzled view; <span class='lnum'>390</span></div> + <div class='line'>Warned me of fancy’s too prevailing sway,</div> + <div class='line'>Whispered how evanescent youth’s bright day!</div> + <div class='line'>And told me that the scene I deemed so fair,</div> + <div class='line'>Had many a thorn of trial lurking there.</div> + <div class='line'>Instructress! from whose lips improvement came, <span class='lnum'>395</span></div> + <div class='line'>And study lost the rigour of its name,</div> + <div class='line'>Friend! still by time and circumstance untried,</div> + <div class='line'>Forgive the homage of a filial pride!</div> + <div class='line'>Forgive, if from the brief excursive lay</div> + <div class='line'>I pause, love’s light and willing debt to pay. <span class='lnum'>400</span></div> + <div class='line'>My minstrel harp in vain would ask my care,</div> + <div class='line'>If memory’s were a chord forbidden there;</div> + <div class='line'>And little worth, that heartless verse, I deem,</div> + <div class='line'>Unconsecrate by friendship’s steady beam.</div> + <div class='line'>No! vain the varied wreath of tuneful song <span class='lnum'>405</span></div> + <div class='line'>If the heart’s language speak not with the tongue!</div> + <div class='line'>Without true feeling, bright the page may be,</div> + <div class='line'>But ’tis a cold and fickle brilliancy,</div> + <div class='line'>The dazzling light of the sun’s glancing rays,</div> + <div class='line'>When on the glacier’s arrowy point it plays; <span class='lnum'>410</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>Oh! fairer far that sun’s refulgent lines,</div> + <div class='line'>Where on the cotter’s roof its brightness shines,</div> + <div class='line'>Gilding the village green, the ivied tower,</div> + <div class='line'>Tipping with light each blade and dewy flower;</div> + <div class='line'>Smiling in sweet repose, his glad adieu, <span class='lnum'>415</span></div> + <div class='line'>All nature radiant with his glowing hue.</div> + <div class='line'>Thus cheering, bright’ning o’er earth’s darker soil,</div> + <div class='line'>Affection’s sunbeam gilds our daily toil;</div> + <div class='line'>That arduous post we all are called to fill,</div> + <div class='line'>In the set battle betwixt good and ill! <span class='lnum'>420</span></div> + <div class='line'>Vain <em>there</em> the subtlest panoply of proof,</div> + <div class='line'>Take thou nor spear, nor buckler, save the truth.</div> + <div class='line'>What are thy vaunted saws—Philosophy!</div> + <div class='line'>Summed up and brought before the Christian’s eye?</div> + <div class='line'>What all the comeliness of human schemes <span class='lnum'>425</span></div> + <div class='line'>For living, dying tranquilly?—what!—<em>dreams!</em></div> + <div class='line'>Impostors! swallowed by the Aaron’s rod</div> + <div class='line'>Of that one simple axiom—“trust in God.”</div> + <div class='line'>In <em>His</em> pure worship even sorrow heals,</div> + <div class='line'>And the heart lightens with the pang it feels; <span class='lnum'>430</span></div> + <div class='line'>Unlike the trifles that our minds employ,</div> + <div class='line'>Ending in sorrow, though begun in joy,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>Religion pours a balm with ev’ry tear,</div> + <div class='line'>And reaps her golden harvest even here!</div> + <div class='line'>Give me one hour in holy converse spent, <span class='lnum'>435</span></div> + <div class='line'>For a whole age of indolent content!</div> + <div class='line'>Give me the friend who guides my steps aright,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor fears to bring my errors to my sight:</div> + <div class='line'>With tenderness the heart’s fond guile unrobes,</div> + <div class='line'>But to the core with steady courage probes, <span class='lnum'>440</span></div> + <div class='line'>Points, as my path, not that I <em>wish</em> to see,</div> + <div class='line'>But the unbending <em>right</em>, as thou to me,</div> + <div class='line'>My long-loved friend! whose roof, a second home,</div> + <div class='line'>More welcome smiles than wealth’s most costly dome.</div> + <div class='line'>Full long the pilgrim’s sandall’d foot would tread, <span class='lnum'>445</span></div> + <div class='line'>Thy wood-paths, <span class='sc'>Wanstead</span>, by affection led;</div> + <div class='line'>But hark! yon deep and silent woods among,</div> + <div class='line'>Wakes the low music of the poet’s song;</div> + <div class='line'>The breath of his sweet lyre, on breezes borne,</div> + <div class='line'>Floats, where of old the hunter’s stirring horn<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c006'><sup>[7]</sup></a> <span class='lnum'>450</span></div> + <div class='line'>Called to the echoes, that through dell and glade</div> + <div class='line'>Spake in their jocund tongues, from every shade.</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst knight and damsel, in their vests of green,</div> + <div class='line'>Throng’d, gay and graceful, round their huntress-queen;</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>And the proud stag caught from afar the strain, <span class='lnum'>455</span></div> + <div class='line'>Tossed his broad brow, and sought his woods again.</div> + <div class='line'>There now the hind, in fern-clad hollows hid,</div> + <div class='line'>Couches the pendant weeds and flowers amid,</div> + <div class='line'>Or tripping light, her velvets gemmed with dew,</div> + <div class='line'>With a shy wildness glances on the view, <span class='lnum'>460</span></div> + <div class='line'>Turns her fair neck with momentary gaze,</div> + <div class='line'>Then plunges in the covert’s verdant maze;</div> + <div class='line'>There now the pheasant’s shrilly note is heard,</div> + <div class='line'>There in blest freedom lives each happy bird;</div> + <div class='line'>The partridge brings in peace her covey there, <span class='lnum'>465</span></div> + <div class='line'>And fears no danger but the fox’s lair;</div> + <div class='line'>No thundering gun the startled echoes know,</div> + <div class='line'>And e’en the timid lev’ret dreads no foe.</div> + <div class='line'>Come! when the moon in silvery lustre sleeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And climb with me the forest’s mossy steeps; <span class='lnum'>470</span></div> + <div class='line'>There, o’er the dewy turf, all bathed in light,</div> + <div class='line'>The playful hare scuds from the stranger’s sight,</div> + <div class='line'>Or calmly pastures on the glist’ning blade,</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst the lone owl hoots from his ivied shade.</div> + <div class='line'>’Neath yon wide oak the deep’ning shadows dwell, <span class='lnum'>475</span></div> + <div class='line'>And darkly glance upon the “brocket well,”</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>That from the twisted roots its stream distils,</div> + <div class='line'>Nursed in the bosom of the shelt’ring hills;</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst on that brow the beeches’ lofty height,</div> + <div class='line'>Waves in the clearness of the azure night; <span class='lnum'>480</span></div> + <div class='line'>And in wild murmurs sigh the fresh’ning gales,</div> + <div class='line'>Through the deep arches of their leafy aisles.</div> + <div class='line'>Come to the poet’s study! no proud dome</div> + <div class='line'>Rich in the polish’d lore of Greece and Rome,</div> + <div class='line'>And painting’s wonders, sculpture’s magic grace, <span class='lnum'>485</span></div> + <div class='line'>Which bids the rock a god’s bright features trace.</div> + <div class='line'>No, here, beneath the “branching elms star-proof,”</div> + <div class='line'>Rises in peace the low and simple roof;</div> + <div class='line'>Birds sing above, and flowers blossom nigh,</div> + <div class='line'>And the blue glimpses of the cloudless sky <span class='lnum'>490</span></div> + <div class='line'>Through woven boughs and russet thatch look forth,</div> + <div class='line'>Like thoughts of heav’n amid the cares of earth!</div> + <div class='line'>And here pure thoughts and holiest visions come,</div> + <div class='line'>And find within this grot their tranquil home;</div> + <div class='line'>Here not the fever of excited minds <span class='lnum'>495</span></div> + <div class='line'>Its baleful food in headlong passion finds,</div> + <div class='line'>To poison turns the flower’d chalice, given</div> + <div class='line'>To the bard’s hand by an all-bounteous heaven,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>Changing that magic, that might heal the soul,</div> + <div class='line'>To Comus’ mocking rod and Circe’s bowl. <span class='lnum'>500</span></div> + <div class='line'>Oh! better far! here o’er the poet’s lyre,</div> + <div class='line'>Hovers a ray of purer, brighter, fire;</div> + <div class='line'>And lips that glow with genius’ heaven-sprung flame,</div> + <div class='line'>Breathe back the sacred incense whence it came!</div> + <div class='line'>But ye! who with my lay have wandered on, <span class='lnum'>505</span></div> + <div class='line'>That lay is spent, the pilgrim’s shrine is won.</div> + <div class='line'>Not now, not now, beside Castalia’s streams,</div> + <div class='line'>I ask a fabled muse to aid my dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>Or spread on poesy’s too frolic gale</div> + <div class='line'>The varied woof of fancy’s tissued sail, <span class='lnum'>515</span></div> + <div class='line'>Or bid the star-led bark of fairy land,</div> + <div class='line'>Glide in wild music, from the lonely strand.</div> + <div class='line'>In Nature’s praise I frame the simple lay,</div> + <div class='line'>Through her delightful paths in freedom stray;</div> + <div class='line'>Weaving my garland, in whose braid I twine <span class='lnum'>520</span></div> + <div class='line'>Names, that might blush to gem a wreath of mine,</div> + <div class='line'>Did not true fame shun the pretender’s boast,</div> + <div class='line'>Exacting least where it might claim the most.</div> + <div class='line'>Let such forgive, that on their native plain</div> + <div class='line'>A stranger’s lute takes up the votive strain! <span class='lnum'>525</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>Not mine to wake the poet’s golden lyre,</div> + <div class='line'>Its thrilling chords, and soul-ennobling fire;</div> + <div class='line'>Or its sweet sorrow, like the ev’ning’s breath,</div> + <div class='line'>Or dew, upon the light and glossy leaf;</div> + <div class='line'>Not mine the power to weave the tuneful spell, <span class='lnum'>530</span></div> + <div class='line'>And draw a spirit from the sounding shell;</div> + <div class='line'>No! to my trembling fingers give instead</div> + <div class='line'>The oaten stop and simple shepherd’s reed!</div> + <div class='line'>I have no muse but Truth;—I ask no art</div> + <div class='line'>To write her lessons on the gentle heart; <span class='lnum'>535</span></div> + <div class='line'>Simple and plain in her own strength she stands,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor needs the weak support of human hands.</div> + <div class='line'>A granite column, firm and unadorned,</div> + <div class='line'>As if the pomp of ornament she scorned;</div> + <div class='line'>Truth borrows not the glare of gems or gold, <span class='lnum'>540</span></div> + <div class='line'>Her name, a charm that needs but to be told!</div> + <div class='line'>And with her,—inmates of the humble cell,</div> + <div class='line'>Where, linked in love, the Christian graces dwell;—</div> + <div class='line'>That best and loveliest, whose welcome feet</div> + <div class='line'>The mountain tops in rays of gladness greet, <span class='lnum'>545</span></div> + <div class='line'>As o’er the earth her noiseless step is stayed,</div> + <div class='line'>Healing each bitter wound that sin has made,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>Comes;—like the rainbow o’er the stormy cloud!</div> + <div class='line'>Or pardon to the wretch in fetters bowed;</div> + <div class='line'>Or the sweet dash of waters on the ear, <span class='lnum'>550</span></div> + <div class='line'>Gladd’ning the desert-pilgrim’s path of fear.—</div> + <div class='line'>Whilst earth rejoices, smiles the bright’ning sky</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath thy step—benignant Charity!</div> + <div class='line'>Can’st <em>thou</em> want advocates?—Did not the voice</div> + <div class='line'>Which bade fall’n nature in her bonds rejoice, <span class='lnum'>555</span></div> + <div class='line'>And, graven on her page of trial, see</div> + <div class='line'>“Health to the stricken!—set the pris’ner free!”</div> + <div class='line'>Did not that voice, which sin’s fast bondage brake,</div> + <div class='line'>And bade, from death’s deep rest, the slumb’rer wake,</div> + <div class='line'>Without <em>this chiefest</em> all our gifts declare <span class='lnum'>560</span></div> + <div class='line'>As tinkling metal, or as tinsel’s glare?</div> + <div class='line'>Is there a duty, nearer than the rest,</div> + <div class='line'>Whose links are twined so close about the breast?</div> + <div class='line'>In the fair structure of creation’s plan,</div> + <div class='line'>Uniting all, and binding man to man? <span class='lnum'>565</span></div> + <div class='line'>’Tis this!—By this to us our God has given</div> + <div class='line'>A portion of the privilege of heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>The joy of blessing!—He, who wipes the tear</div> + <div class='line'>From every mourner’s brow who sorrows here,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>Intrusts the sceptre to his creature’s hand, <span class='lnum'>570</span></div> + <div class='line'>“Go and do likewise!” His benign command,</div> + <div class='line'>In fellowship with man, his task partakes</div> + <div class='line'>Wherever Charity’s pure zeal awakes;</div> + <div class='line'>How poor soe’er the votive cup, its brim</div> + <div class='line'>O’erflows with wine, if poured from love to Him; <span class='lnum'>575</span></div> + <div class='line'>And He is with us in the humblest deed</div> + <div class='line'>That serves mankind, <em>His</em> smile our golden meed!</div> + <div class='line'>If strong, this fairest virtue’s earnest claim,</div> + <div class='line'>Ah—let not <em>here</em> her cause be urged in vain!</div> + <div class='line'>Shall we the less her soft’ning influence feel, <span class='lnum'>580</span></div> + <div class='line'>Because the weak are objects of our zeal?</div> + <div class='line'>Because the poor—the sick—the suffering, plead</div> + <div class='line'>Through her, to us, in this their hour of need?</div> + <div class='line'>Ye!—in whose softer bosoms ought to move</div> + <div class='line'>The tranquil whispers of a purer love; <span class='lnum'>585</span></div> + <div class='line'>Ye!—to whose gentler fost’ring hand ’tis given</div> + <div class='line'>To shield the plant whose native clime is heaven;</div> + <div class='line'>Its tender shoots to bind with sweet control,</div> + <div class='line'>And for its future Eden fit the soul;</div> + <div class='line'>Upon whose bosom its soft form reclines, <span class='lnum'>590</span></div> + <div class='line'>Sheltered from gathering clouds, and rending winds.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>Ye!—who hang o’er these blossoms of your love,</div> + <div class='line'>And trust to see them perfected above,</div> + <div class='line'>Say—can ye gaze upon your happy home,</div> + <div class='line'>A mother’s hopes, and quiet pleasures own; <span class='lnum'>595</span></div> + <div class='line'>From infancy’s soft lips that dear name hear,</div> + <div class='line'>Its half-formed accents blessed to your ear!</div> + <div class='line'>And sweet its cares implied, nor turn to those</div> + <div class='line'>Who bear—in poverty—a mother’s woes?</div> + <div class='line'>Daughter of wealth!—whose breast hath never known <span class='lnum'>600</span></div> + <div class='line'>Want’s bitter pang, misfortune’s stifled groan;</div> + <div class='line'>If,—in the fountain of thy woman’s heart</div> + <div class='line'>Pity and sympathising love have part,—</div> + <div class='line'>When such a claim we proffer—pass not by</div> + <div class='line'>Or turn away with cold averted eye! <span class='lnum'>605</span></div> + <div class='line'>Go—open Nature’s book, and she will tell</div> + <div class='line'>How potent is Compassion’s silent spell;</div> + <div class='line'>Making worth nobler,—loveliness more fair,</div> + <div class='line'>And talent brighter for the tear they spare.</div> + <div class='line'>Or in a richer volume, humbly read <span class='lnum'>610</span></div> + <div class='line'>The blessing promised to one kindly deed;</div> + <div class='line'>Not unrequited, for the master’s sake</div> + <div class='line'>We give the cup, his pilgrim’s thirst to slake.</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>And when Benevolence, with accents bland,</div> + <div class='line'>Endears the largess of the ready hand, <span class='lnum'>615</span></div> + <div class='line'>The off’ring on no barren shrine is laid,</div> + <div class='line'>The vow to no ungracious master paid;</div> + <div class='line'>But the Redeemer’s mild approving smile</div> + <div class='line'>Beams on the sacrifice and lights the pile.</div> + <div class='line'>And infancy is sacred, for it drew <span class='lnum'>620</span></div> + <div class='line'>A blessing down—in the assembled view</div> + <div class='line'>Of those first gleaners in the promised land,</div> + <div class='line'>His true disciples’ firm united band</div> + <div class='line'>The Saviour stood—with brow serene and mild,</div> + <div class='line'>And held amid the crowd, “a little child.” <span class='lnum'>625</span></div> + <div class='line'>And as upon his tranquil breast it lay</div> + <div class='line'>With dimpled lip and eye of placid ray,</div> + <div class='line'>Confiding, fearless, in his tender care,</div> + <div class='line'>Thus spake,—“Behold! the Christian’s model there!</div> + <div class='line'>Be as this babe in gentleness and love, <span class='lnum'>630</span></div> + <div class='line'>For such shall form my heritage above;</div> + <div class='line'>And whosoe’er with pitying eye shall see</div> + <div class='line'>But one—the least of these—receiveth me!</div> + <div class='line'>And from the Father’s hand, with blessing stored,</div> + <div class='line'>May claim the faithful servant’s rich reward.” <span class='lnum'>635</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>Go then—when charity and mercy plead</div> + <div class='line'>Be the heart strong to prompt the bounteous deed!</div> + <div class='line'>Fear not to trust its inmost whispers there,</div> + <div class='line'>But all its energy and fervour share;</div> + <div class='line'>Happy!—one bosom flower to cull at last <span class='lnum'>640</span></div> + <div class='line'>O’er which the blight of sin hath never passed!</div> + <div class='line'>Happy—that from this fount of pain and woe</div> + <div class='line'>A stainless stream may still in brightness flow;</div> + <div class='line'>Happy!—in memory’s wreath one bud to set</div> + <div class='line'>On which the bloom of Eden lingers yet! <span class='lnum'>645</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span> + <h2 class='c005'>NOTES.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<em>Breathed from the altar of domestic peace.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. Whoever has had the privilege of a visit to Fair Mead +Lodge, will feel that Essex has the honour of being the chosen residence +of at least one poet, who, in this age of independance and +human perfectability, is not too proud to “look through Nature up to +Nature’s God.”</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in30'>“<em>The pen,—</em></div> + <div class='line'><em>Hath stricken thee.</em>”— page <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Dr. Armstrong, the physician-poet, has fulminated an +alarming denunciation against poor Essex; witness the startling allegory +of the ague in his “Art of Preserving Health.” The countenances +of the natives are fair commentaries, not to establish, but to controvert +his doctrine. That there are some marshy districts within the +two hundred and twenty-five miles of its circumference is indisputable, +but it is hard to threaten a whole country with the unacceptable +visits of “the meagre fiend Quartana,” who is represented by the +Doctor as domesticated there.</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<em>My step untired the mould’ring abbey leads.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Waltham Abbey, first founded by Tovi, standard-bearer +to Canute, for the reception of a holy cross, brought thither, say the +learned, by a miracle.—Edward the Confessor gave it to Harold, who +enriched it with amazing wealth; and, falling at the battle of Hastings, +was, with his brothers, buried in the Abbey his zeal had almost +re-endowed, by their mother Githa. His tomb of stone was some +years since to be seen.</p> +</div> +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>“<em>Where a king knelt, the penance vow to pay.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. Henry II. having vowed to <em>erect</em> an Abbey to the honour +of God and Saint Thomas-á-Becket, as an expiation for the crime of +that prelate’s death, seems, skilfully enough, to have construed his +vow with a prudent attention to his own interests; for he came to +Waltham Abbey on the Vigils of Pentecost, June the 3d 1177, and +having procured a charter of Pope Alexander the Third, changed the +old foundation of seculars of the Benedictine order, to an Abbey of +regular canons of the order of Saint Augustin, increasing the number +to sixteen. At the same time, it must be allowed, he enriched the +church with many new manors, re-endowed, (Stow says, rebuilt it) +and promised to augment its revenue, till it should support one hundred +canons. This last promise, the king, with his numerous avocations, +<em>forgot</em>.</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<em>Where through ‘the Grove’ soft plays the summer air.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f5'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. Wanstead Grove, the seat of the Hon. Mrs. Rushout, +and formerly the residence of George Bowles, Esq., a residence +justly distinguished for the public spirit and benevolence of its late, +and the amenity and elegant taste of its present owner.</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<em>Angelica! whose pencil’s graceful line.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f6'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. A rich collection of Angelica Kauffman’s most exquisite +pieces commemorate the liberal patronage she received from the +former possessor of the mansion; nor are her works in a spot where +they cannot be fully enjoyed and appreciated.</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c004'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>“<em>Floats, where of old the hunter’s stirring horn.</em>”—page <a href='#Page_21'>21</a>.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f7'> +<p class='c007'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. Fair-Mead Lodge, the residence of Wm. Sotheby, Esq., +preserves the memory of a spot from whence Queen Elizabeth and +her ladies, when hunting in the forest, were wont to station themselves, +to witness the chase. The Queen’s Lodge, farther in the forest, +occupies a high ground amongst some fine trees. A dilapidated farmhouse +is now the only relic of the royal mansion, and the scene +where Leicester “drew his ’broidered rein” beside the palfrey of that +Queen he would fain have governed, is now a lonely rabbit-warren. +The outlines of the garden parterres and a fish-pond are still to be +traced.</p> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div>FINIS.</div> + <div class='c002'><span class='small'>LONDON:</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>PRINTED BY J. L. COX, GREAT QUEEN STREET.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c003'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c008'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ul class='ul_1 c002'> + <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + + </li> + <li>Line 515 should be renumbered as line 510. Subsequent lines should be numbered + accordingly, starting from 515. The original numbering was not corrected. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75349 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e on 2025-01-20 17:48:34 GMT --> +</html> + diff --git a/75349-h/images/cover.jpg b/75349-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dbef98c --- /dev/null +++ b/75349-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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