My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclin'd
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our cot, our cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd jasmin, and the broad
leav'd myrtle,
And watch the clouds, that late were rich with
Slow-sadd'ning round, and mark the star of eve
Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents
Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world so
hush'd!
Hark! the still murmur of the distant sea
Tells us of silence! And th' Eolian lute,
How by the desultory breeze caress'd,
Like some coy maid half-yielding to her lover,
It pours such sweet upbraidings, as must needs
Tempt to repeat the wrong! and now its strings
Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes
Over delicious surges sink and rise,
Such a soft floating witchery of sound-
Methinks, it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world like this,
Where e'en the breezes of the simple air
Possess the power and spirit of melody!
And thus, my love! as on the midway slope
Of yonder hill I stretch my limbs at noon,
Whilst thro' my half-clos'd eyelids I behold
The sunbeams dance, like diamonds, on the
main,
And tranquil muse upon tranquillity;
Full many a thought uncall'd and undetain'd,
And many idle flitting phantasies,
Traverse my indolent and passive brain,
As wild and various as the random gales
That swell or flutter on this subject lute!
And what if all of animated nature
Be but organic harps diversely fram'd
That tremble into thought, as o'er them sweeps,
Plastic and vast, one intellectual breeze,
At once the soul of each, and God of all?
But thy more serious eye a mild reproof
Darts, O beloved woman! nor such thoughts
Dim and unhallow'd dost thou not reject,
And biddest me walk humbly with my God.
Meek daughter in the family of Christ,
Well hast thou said and holily disprais'd
These shapings of the unregenerate mind,
Bubbles that glitter as they rise and break
On vain philosophy's aye-babbling spring.
For never guiltless may I speak of Him,
Th' Incomprehensible! save when with awe
I praise him, and with faith that inly feels;
Who with his saving mercies healed me,
A sinful and most miserable man
Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess Peace, and this cot, and thee heart-honour'd maid!
As when a child, on some long winter's night,
Affrighted, clinging to its grandam's knees,
With eager wond'ring, and perturb'd delight,
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees,
Mutter'd to wretch by necromantic spell;
Or of those hags, who at the witching time
Of murky midnight, ride the air sublime,
And mingle foul embrace with fiends of hell:
Cold horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear
More gentle starts, to hear the beldame tell
Of pretty babes, that lov'd each other dear,
Murder'd by cruel uncle's mandate fell :
Ev'n such the shiv'ring joys thy tones impart,
Ev'n so thou, Siddons, meltest my sad heart.
ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT.
Low was our pretty cot! our tallest rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
The sea's faint murmur. In the open air
Our myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch
Thick jasmins twin'd: the little landscape round
Was green and woody and refresh'd the eye.
It was a spot, which you might aptly call
The Valley of Seclusion! Once I saw
(Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness)
A wealthy son of commerce saunter by,
Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calm'd
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse
With wiser feelings: for he paus'd, and look'd
With a pleas'd sadness, and gaz'd all around,
Then eyed our cottage, and gaz'd round again,
And sigh'd, and said, it was a blessed place.
And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear
Long listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen Gleaming on sunny wing,)" And such," I said, "The inobtrusive song of happiness
Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd
And the heart listens!"'
But the time, when first From that low dell steep up the stony mount I climb'd with perilous toil and reach'd the top, O what a goodly scene! here the bleak mount, The bare bleak mountain speckled thin with
Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields And river, now with bushy rocks o'erbrow'd, Now winding bright and full, with naked banks; And seats, and lawns, the abbey, and the wood, And cots, and hamlets, and faint city-spire : The channel there, the islands and white sails, Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and shoreless
It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, methought,
Had built him there a temple: the whole world
Seen'd imag'd in its vast circumference.
No wish profan'd my overwhelmed heart.
Blest hour! it was a luxury-to be!
Ah quiet dell! dear cot! and
I was constrain'd to quit you.
mount sublime Was it right,
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