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XVIII.

LINES

WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF THE COUNTESS OF
LONSDALE. NOVEMBER 5, 1834.

LADY! a Pen (perhaps with thy regard,
Among the Favoured, favoured not the least)
Left, 'mid the Records of this Book inscribed,
Deliberate traces, registers of thought
And feeling, suited to the place and time
That gave them birth :-months passed, and
still this hand,

5

That had not been too timid to imprint
Words which the virtues of thy Lord inspired,
Was yet not bold enough to write of Thee.
And why that scrupulous reserve? In sooth 10
The blameless cause lay in the Theme itself.
Flowers are there many that delight to strive
With the sharp wind, and seem to court the
shower,

Yet are by nature careless of the sun

Whether he shine on them or not; and some, 15
Where'er he moves along the unclouded sky,
Turn a broad front full on his flattering beams:
Others do rather from their notice shrink,
Loving the dewy shade,-a humble band,
Modest and sweet, a progeny of earth,
Congenial with thy mind and character,
High-born Augusta!

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Witness Towers, and Groves! And Thou, wild Stream, that giv'st the honoured name

Of Lowther to this ancient Line, bear witness From thy most secret haunts; and ye Parterres,

Which She is pleased and proud to call her

own,

Witness how oft upon my noble Friend
Mute offerings, tribute from an inward sense
Of admiration and respectful love,

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Have waited-till the affections could no more
Endure that silence, and broke out in song,
Snatches of music taken up and dropt
Like those self-solacing, those under, notes 33
Trilled by the redbreast, when autumnal leaves
Are thin upon the bough. Mine, only mine,
The pleasure was, and no one heard the praise,
Checked, in the moment of its issue, checked
And reprehended, by a fancied blush

From the pure qualities that called it forth.

Thus Virtue lives debarred from Virtue's meed;

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Thus, Lady, is retiredness a veil
That, while it only spreads a softening charm
O'er features looked at by discerning eyes,
Hides half their beauty from the common

gaze;

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And thus, even on the exposed and breezy hill
Of lofty station, female goodness walks,
When side by side with lunar gentleness,
As in a cloister. Yet the grateful Poor
(Such the immunities of low estate,
Plain Nature's enviable privilege,

Her sacred recompense for many wants)

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Open their hearts before Thee, pouring out
All that they think and feel, with tears of

joy;

And benedictions not unheard in heaven:

And friend in the ear of friend, where speech

is free

To follow truth, is eloquent as they.

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Then let the Book receive in these prompt lines

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A just memorial; and thine eyes consent
To read that they, who mark thy course, behold
A life declining with the golden light
Of summer, in the season of sere leaves;
See cheerfulness undamped by stealing Time;
See studied kindness flow with easy stream,
Illustrated with inborn courtesy ;

And an habitual disregard of self
Balanced by vigilance for others' weal.

And shall the Verse not tell of lighter gifts With these ennobling attributes conjoined And blended, in peculiar harmony,

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By Youth's surviving spirit? What agile grace!

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A nymph-like liberty, in nymph-like form, Beheld with wonder; whether floor or path. Thou tread; or sweep-borne on the managed steed

Fleet as the shadows, over down or field, Driven by strong winds at play among the

clouds.

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Yet one word more-one farewell word—a

wish

Which came, but it has passed into a prayer-
That, as thy sun in brightness is declining,
So-at an hour yet distant for their sakes
Whose tender love, here faltering on the way
Of a diviner love, will be forgiven-
So may it set in peace, to rise again
For everlasting glory won by faith.

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ΧΙΧ.

GRACE DARLING.

AMONG the dwellers in the silent fields
The natural heart is touched, and public way
And crowded street resound with ballad strains,
Inspired by ONE whose very name bespeaks
Favour divine, exalting human love;
Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's

coast,

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Known unto few but prized as far as known,
A single Act endears to high and low
Through the whole land-to Manhood, moved
in spite

Of the world's freezing cares-to generous
Youth-

To Infancy, that lisps her praise-to Age

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Whose eye reflects it, glistening through a tear
Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame
Awaits her now; but, verily, good deeds
Do no imperishable record find

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Save in the rolls of heaven, where hers may live

A theme for angels, when they celebrate
The high-souled virtues which forgetful earth
Has witnessed. Oh! that winds and waves
could speak

Of things which their united power called forth
From the pure depths of her humanity!

A Maiden gentle, yet, at duty's call,

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Firm and unflinching, as the Lighthouse reared
On the Island-rock, her lonely dwelling-place;
Or like the invincible Rock itself that braves,
Age after age, the hostile elements,
As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.

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All night the storm had raged, nor ceased, nor paused,

When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty

air,

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Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf,
Beating on one of those disastrous isles-
Half of a Vessel, half-no more; the rest
Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there
Had for the common safety striven in vain,
Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick
glance

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Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern,
Clinging about the remnant of this Ship,
Creatures-how precious in the Maiden's sight!
For whom, belike, the old Man grieves still more
Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed
Where every parting agony is hushed,
And hope and fear mix not in further strife.
"But courage, Father! let us out to sea-
A few may yet be saved." The Daughter's
words,

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Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith,
Dispel the Father's doubts: nor do they lack
The noble-minded Mother's helping hand
To launch the boat; and with her blessing
cheered,

And inwardly sustained by silent prayer,
Together they put forth, Father and Child! 50
Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go-
Rivals in effort; and, alike intent
Here to elude and there surmount, they watch
The billows lengthening, mutually crossed
And shattered, and re-gathering their might;
As if the tumult, by the Almighty's will
Were, in the conscious sea, roused and pro-

longed

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That woman's fortitude-so tried, so proved

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