Even here, where her amenities are sown
With sparing hand. Then trust yourself abroad To range her blooming bowers and spacious fields, Where on the labours of the happy throng She smiles, including in her wide embrace City, and town, and tower, and sea with ships Sprinkled; be our companion while we track Her rivers populous with gliding life;
While, free as air, o'er printless sands we march, And pierce the gloom of her majestic woods, Roaming, or resting under grateful shade, In peace and meditative cheerfulness; Where living things, and things inanimate, Do speak, at Heaven's command, to eye And speak to social reason's inner sense, With inarticulate language.
Who, in this spirit, communes with the forms Of Nature; who, with understanding heart, Doth know and love such objects as excite No morbid passions, no disquietude,
No vengeance, and no hatred, needs must fecl So deeply, that, unsatisfied with aught Less pure and exquisite, he cannot choose But seek for objects of a kindred love In fellow-natures and a kindred joy. Accordingly, he by degrees perceives His feelings of aversion soften'd down; A holy tenderness pervade his frame. His sanity of reason not impair'd,
Say rather, all his thoughts now flowing clear, From a clear fountain flowing, he looks round
And seeks for good; and finds the good he seeks ; Until abhorrence and contempt are things
He only knows by name; and if he bear
From other mouths, the language which they speak, He is compassionate; and has no thought,
No feeling, which can overcome his love.
"And further; by contemplating these forms In the relations which they bear to man,
He shall discern, how, through the various means Which silently they yield, are multiplied
The spiritual presences of absent things, Convoked by knowledge; and for his delight Still ready to obey the gentle call.
Trust me, that for the instructed, time will come
When they shall meet no object but may teach Some acceptable lesson to their minds
Of human suffering, or of human joy.
For them shall all things speak of man; they read Their duties in all forms; and general laws,
And local accidents, shall tend alike
To rouse, to urge, and with the will confer
The ability to spread the blessings wide Of true philanthropy. The light of love Not failing, perseverance from their steps Departing not, they shall at length obtain The glorious habit by which sense is made Subservient still to moral purposes,
Auxiliar to divine. That change shall clothe The naked spirit, ceasing to deplore The burthen of existence. Science then Shall be a precious visitant; and then, And only then, be worthy of her name. For then her heart shall kindle; her dull eye, Dull and inanimate, no more shall hang Chain'd to its object in brute slavery; But taught with patient interest to watch The processes of things, and serve the cause Of order and distinctness, not for this Shall it forget that its most noble use, Its most illustrious province, must be found In furnishing clear guidance, a support Not treacherous, to the mind's excursive power. So build we up the being that we are; Thus deeply drinking in the soul of things, We shall be wise perforce; and while inspired By choice, and conscious that the will is free, Unswerving shall we move, as if impell'd By strict necessity, along the path Of order and of good. Whate'er we see, Whate'er we feel, by agency direct Or indirect, shall tend to feed and nurse Our faculties, shall fix in calmer seats Of moral strength, and raise to loftier heights Of love divine, our intellectual soul."
Here closed the sage that eloquent harangue, Pour'd forth with fervour in continuous stream; Such as, remote, 'mid savage wilderness, An Indian chief discharges from his breast Into the hearing of assembled tribes, In open circle seated round, and hush'd As the unbreathing air, when not a leaf Stirs in the mighty woods. So did he speak. The words he utter'd shall not pass away; For they sank into me-the bounteous gift Of one whom time and nature had made wise, Gracing his language with authority Which hostile spirits silently allow;
Of one accustom'd to desires that feed
On fruitage gather'd from the tree of life;
To hopes on knowledge and experience built;
Of one in whom persuasion and belief
Had ripen'd into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition; whence the soul, Though bound to earth by ties of pity and love, From all injurious servitude was fr
The sun, before his place of rest were reach'd, Had yet to travel far, but unto us,
To us who stood low in that hollow dell, He had become invisible,-a pomp Leaving behind of yellow radiance spread Upon the mountain-sides, in contrast bold With ample shadows, seemingly no less Than those resplendent lights, his rich bequest, A dispensation of his evening power. Adown the path which from the glen had led The funeral train, the shepherd and his mate Were seen descending; forth in transport ran Our little page; the rustic pair approach; And in the matron's aspect may be read A plain assurance that the words which told How that neglected pensioner was sent, Before his time, into a quiet grave, Had done to her humanity no wrong.
But we are kindly welcomed; promptly served With ostentatious zeal. Along the floor Of the small cottage in the lonely dell
A grateful couch was spread for our repose; Where, in the guise of mountaineers, we slept, Stretch'd upon fragrant heath, and lull'd by sound Of far off torrents charming the still night, And to tired limbs and over-busy thoughts, Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.
Farewell to the Valley-Reflections-Sight of a large and populous Vale-Solitary consents to go forward-Vale described-The Pastor's Dwelling, and some account of him-The Churchyard-Church and Monuments-The Solitary musing, and where-Roused-In the churchyard the Solitary communicates the thoughts which had recently passed through his mind-Lofty tone of the Wanderer's discourse of yesterday adverted toRit of Baptism, and the professions accompanying it, contrasted with the real state of human life-Inconsistency of the best men-Acknowledgment that practice falls far below the injunctions of duty as existing in the mind-General complaint of a fallingoff in the value of life after the time of youth-Outward appearance of content and happiness in degree illusive-Pastor approaches-Appeal made to him-His answerWanderer in sympathy with him-Suggestion that the least ambitious inquirers may be most free from error-The Pastor is desired to give some portraits of the living or dead from his own observations of life among these mountains-and for what purposePastor consents-Mountain cottage-Excellent qualities of its inhabitants-Solitary expresses his pleasure; but denies the praise of virtue to worth of this kind-Feelings of the Priest before he enters upon his account of persons interred in the churchyardGraves of unbaptized Infants-What sensations they excite-Funereal and sepulchral observances-Whence-Ecclesiastical establishments-Whence derived-Profession of belief in the doctrine of immortality.
"FAREWELL, deep valley, with thy one rude house, And its small lot of life-supporting fields, And guardian rocks! With unreverted eyes I cannot pass thy bounds, attractive seat! To the still influx of the morning light
Open, and day's pure cheerfulness, but veil'd From human observation, as if yet
Primeval forests wrapp'd thee round with dark Impenetrable shade; once more farewell, Majestic circuit, beautiful abyss,
By Nature destined from the birth of things For quietness profound!"
Of that green slope, the outlet of the vale,
Lingering behind my comrades, thus I breathed A parting tribute to a spot that seem'd Like the fix'd centre of a troubled world. And now, pursuing leisurely my way,
"How vain," thought I, "it is, by change of place To seek that comfort which the mind denies; Yet trial and temptation oft are shunn'd Wisely; and by such tenure do we hold
Frail life's possessions, that even they whose fate Yields no peculiar reason of complaint Might, by the promise that is here, be won To steal from active duties, and embrace Obscurity, and calm forgetfulness.
Knowledge, methinks, in these disorder'd times, Should be allow'd a privilege to have Her anchorites, like piety of old;
Men, who, from faction sacred, and unstain'd By war, might, if so minded, turn aside Uncensured, and subsist, a scatter'd few, Living to God and nature, and content With that communion. Consecrated be The spots where such abide! But happier still The man, whom, furthermore, a hope attends That meditation and research may guide His privacy to principles and powers Discover'd, or invented, or set forth,
Through his acquaintance with the ways of truth, In lucid order; so that, when his course
Is run, some faithful eulogist may say,
He sought not praise-and praise did overlook His unobtrusive merit; but his life Sweet to himself, was exercised in good That shall survive his name and memory."
Acknowledgments of gratitude sincere Accompanied these musings; fervent thanks For my own peaceful lot and happy choice; A choice that from the passions of the world Withdrew, and fix'd me in a still retreat, Shelter'd, but not to social duties lost, Secluded but not buried; and with song Cheering my days, and with industrious thought, With the ever-welcome company of books, By virtuous friendship's soul-sustaining aid, And with the blessings of domestic love.
Thus occupied in mind I paced along, Following the rugged road by sledge or wheel Worn in the moorland, till I overtook My two associates, in the morning sun Halting together on a rocky knoll, From which the road descended rapidly To the green meadows of another vale.
Here did our pensive host put forth his hand In sign of farewell. "Nay," the old man said, "The fragrant air its coolness still retains ; The herds and flocks are yet abroad to crop The dewy grass; you cannot leave us now, We must not part at this inviting hour." To that injunction, earnestly express'd, He yielded, though reluctant; for his mind Instinctively disposed him to retire
To his own covert; as a billow, heaved Upon the beach, rolls back into the sea. So we descend; and winding round a rock, Attain a point that show'd the valley, stretch'd In length before us; and, not distant far, Upon a rising ground, a grey church-tower, Whose battlements were screen'd by tufted trees. And towards a crystal mere, that lay beyond, Among steep hills and woods embosom'd, flow'd A copious stream with boldly-winding course; Here traceable, there hidden, there again To sight restored, and glittering in the sun. On the stream's bank, and everywhere, appear'd Fair dwellings, single, or in social knots, Some scatter'd o'er the level, others perch'd On the hill-sides, a cheerful quiet scene, Now in its morning purity array'd.
"As 'mid some happy valley of the Alps," Said I, "once happy, ere tyrannic power, Wantonly breaking in upon the Swiss, Destroy'd their unoffending commonwealth, A popular equality doth seem
Here to prevail; and yet a house of state Stands yonder, one beneath whose roof, methinks, A rural lord might dwell." "No feudal pomp,"
Replied our friend, a chronicler who stood Where'er he moved upon familiar ground- "Nor feudal power is there; but there abides, In his allotted home, a genuine Priest, The shepherd of his flock; or, as a king Is styled, when most affectionately praised, The father of his people-such is he;
And rich and poor, and young and old, rejoice Under his spiritual sway, collected round him In this sequester'd realm. He hath vouchsated To me some portion of his kind regard; And something also of his inner mind
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