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And what if thou, sweet May, hast known For everlasting blossoming:
Mishap by worm and blight;

Both Roses flourish, Red and White: If expectations newly blown

In love and sisterly delight Have perish'd in thy sight;

The two that were at strife are blended, If loves and joys, while up they sprung,

And all old troubles now are ended.5Were caught as in a snare:

Joy! joy to both! but most to her Such is the lot of all the young,

Who is the flower of Lancaster! However bright and fair.

Behold her how She smiles to-day

On this great throng, this bright array! Lo! Streams that April could not check Fair greeting doth she send to all Are patient of thy rule;

From every corner of the hall; Gurgling in foamy water-break,

But chiefly from above the board Loitering in glassy pool:

Where sits in state our rightful Lord, By thee, thee only, could be sent

A Clifford to his own restored! (shicld; Such gentle mists as glide,

They came with banner, spear, and Curling with unconfirm'd intent,

And it was proved in Bosworth-field. On that green mountain's side.

Not long th' Avenger was withstood,

Earth help'd him with the cry of blood : 8 How delicate the leafy veil

Saint George was for us, and the might Through which yon house of God Of blessed Angels crownd the right. Gleams 'mid the peace of this deep dale Loud voice the Land has utter'd forth, By few but shepherds trod!

We loudest in the faithful North: And lowly huts, near beaten ways,

Our fields rejoice, our mountains ring, No sooner stand attired

Our streams proclaim a welcoming ; In thy fresh wreaths, than they for praise Our strong-abodes and castles see Peep forth, and are admired.

The glory of their loyalty.

How glad is Skipton at this hour, Season of fancy and of hope,

Though lonely, a deserted Tower; Permit not for one hour,

Knight, squire, and yeoman, page and A blossom from thy crown to drop,

groom: Nor add to it a flower!

We have them at the feast of Brough’m. Keep, lovely May, as if by touch

How glad Pendragon, though the sleep Of self-restraining art,

Of years be on her! She shall reap This modest charm of not too much, A taste of this great pleasure, viewing Part seen, imagined part!

As in a dream her own renewing.
[1826–1834. Rejoiced is Brough, right glad, I deem,

Beside her little humble stream;
SONG AT THE FEAST OF

And she that keepeth watch and ward
BROUGHAM CASTLE,

Her statelier Eden's course to guard;

They both are happy at this hour,
UPON THE RESTORATION OF LORD CLIF. Though each is but a lonely Tower:-
FORD, TIIE SHEPHERD, TO THE

But here is perfect joy and pride
ESTATES AND HONOURS
OF HIS ANCESTORS.

For one fair House by Emont's side,
High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel

This day, distinguish'd without peer sate,

[Song.

To see her Master and to cheer, And Emont's murmur mingled with the

Him, and his Lady-mother dear! The words of ancient time I thus translate, A festal strain that hath been silent long : 5 The Houses of Lancaster and York,

severally represented by the Red Rose “From town to town, from tower to and the White, were united, after the fall

of Richard the Third, by the marriage of tower,

Henry the Seventh with Elizabeth, the The Red Rose is a gladsome flower. daughter of Edward the Fourth. Her thirty years of Winter past,

6This line is from a poem, entitled

The Battle of Bosworth Fiell, by Sir John The Red Rose is revived at last;

Beaumont, brother of the celebrated dra. She lifts her head for endless spring, matist.

O, it was a time forlorn

A recreant harp, that sings of (car When the fatherless was born!

And heaviness in Clifford's car! Give her wings that she may fly,

I said, when evil men are strong, Or she sees her infant die!

No life is good, no pleasure long, Swords that are with slaughter wild A weak and cowardly untruth! Hunt the Mother and the Child.

Our Clifford was a happy Youth, Who will take them from the light?- And thankful through a weary time, Yonder is a man in sight,

That brought him up to manhood's Yonder is a house, - but where?

Again he wanders forth at will, [prime, No, they must not enter there.

And tends a flock from hill to hill: To the caves, and to the brooks,

His garb is humble; ne'er was seen To the clouds of heaven she looks; Such garb with such a noble mien; She is speechless, but her eyes

Among the shepherd grooms no mate Pray in ghostly agonies :

Hath he, a Child of strength and state! • Blissful Mary, Mother mild,

Yet lacks not friends for simple glee, Maid and Mother undefiled,

Nor yet for higher sympathy. Save a Mother and her Child!'

To his side the fallow-deer Now who is he that bounds with joy Came, and rested without fear; On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy?

The eagle, lord of land and sea, No thoughts hath he but thoughts that Stoop'd down to pay him fealty; pass

And both th' undying fish that swim Light as the wind along the grass. Through Bowscale-Tarn did wait on Can this be He who hither came

The pair were servants of his eye shim:1 In secret, like a smother'd flame? (shed

In their immortality; O'er whom such thankful tears were And glancing, gleaming, dark or bright, For shelter, and a poor man's bread! Moved to and fro, for his delight. God loves the Child; and God hath He knew the rocks which Angels haunt will'd

[fill'd, Upon the mountains visitant; That those dear words should be ful. He hath kenn'd them taking wing: The Lady's words, when forced away,

And into caves where Fairies sing The last she to her Babe did say:

He hath enter'd; and been told My own, my own, thy Fellow-guest By Voices how men lived of old. I may not be; but rest thee, rest,

Among the heavens his eye can see For lowly shepherd's life is best!' The face of thing that is to be; Alas! when evil men are strong

And, if that men report him right, No life is good, no pleasure long.

His tongue could whisper words of The Boy must part from Mosedale's Now another day is come, (might. groves,

Fitter hope, and nobler doom: And leave Blencathara's rugged coves,9

He hath thrown aside his crook, And quit the flowers that Summer

And hath buried deep his book; brings

Armour rusting in his halls To Glenderamakin's lofty springs;

On the blood of Clifford calls; ' Must vanish, and his careless cheer "Quell the Scot,' exclaims the Lance; Be turn'd to heaviness and fear.

Dear me to the heart of France,'
Give Sir Lancelot Threlkeld praise!
Hear it, good man, old in days!

1 It was imagined by the people of the Thon tree of covert and of rest

country that there were two immortal For this young Bird that is distrest;

Fish dwelling in this tarn, which lies in

the mountains not far from Threlkeld. Among thy branches safe he lay,

Tarn is a small mountain lake. And he was free to sport and play,

2 The four immediate progenitors of

the person in whose hearing this is sup. When falcons were abroad for prey.

posed to be spoken all died in the field. Several others of the family perished in

the same manner. The Cliffords, indeed, 9 Blencathara is the old and proper of Cumberland were famed for their marname of the mountain vulgarly calcd tial spirit, and were distinguisheil for Saddleback,

fierceness even in that fierce age.

Is the longing of the Shield:

THE PASS OF KIRKSTONE. Tell thy name, thou trembling Field;

I.
Field of death, where'er thou be,
Groan thou with our victory!

WITHIN the mind strong fancies work, Happy day, and mighty hour,

A deep delight the bosom thrills, When our Shepherd, in his power,

Oft as I pass along the fork

Of these fraternal hills:
Mail'd and horsod, with lance and
To his ancestors restored

Where, save the rugged road, we find (sword,

No Like a re-appearing Star,

appanage of human kind,

Nor hint of man; if stone or rock Like a glory from afar,

Seem not his handiwork to mock First shall head the flock of war!”

By something, cognizably shaped; Alas! th' impassion'd minstrel did not Mockery-or model roughly hewn, know

[framed, And left as if by earthquake strewn, That for a tranquil soul the Lay was or from the Flood escaped : Who, long compell’d in humble walks to Altars for Druid service fit; go,

(tamed. (But where no fire was ever lit, Was soften'd into feeling, soothed, and Unless the glow-worm to the skies

Thence offer nightly sacrifice ;) Love had he found in huts where poor Wrinkled Egyptian monument; men lie;

[rills, Green moss-grown tower; or hoary tent; His daily teachers had been woods and Tents of a camp that never shall be The silence that is in the starry sky,

raised,

[gazed! The sleep that is among the lonely hills. On which four thousand years have

II.

In him the savage virtue of the Race, Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes! dead:

Ye snow-white lambs that trip Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place Imprison'd’mid the formal props The wisdom which adversity had bred. Of restless ownership!

Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall Glad were the vales, and every cottage. To feed th’insatiate Prodigal! [fields, hearth;

[and more; Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and The Shepherd-lord was honour'd more All that the fertile valley shields; And, ages after he was laid in earth,

Wages of folly, - baits of crime, “The good Lord Clifford" was the name of life's uneasy game the stake, he bore.3

(1807. Playthings that keep the eyes awake

Of drowsy, dotard Time; 3 Henry Lord Clifford, the subject of O care! O guilt! -O vales and plains, this grand lyric, was the son of John Lord Clifford, who was slain in the battle of Towton, 1461. This John was the person wise came seldom to London or the Court; who, after the battle of Wakefield, 1460, and rather delighted to live in the counslew, in the pursuit, the young Earl of try, where he repaired several of his CasRutland, son to the Duke of York, who fell tles, which had gone to decay during the in that battle. Independent of this act, at late troubles." There is a tradition cur. best a cruel and savage one, the family of rent in the village of Threlkeld and its Clifford had done enough to draw upon neighbourhood, his principal retreat, them the vehement hatred of the House that, in the course of his shepherd-life, of York; so that after the Battle of Tow- he had acquired great astronomical knowlton there was no hope for them but in edge. I cannot conclude this note withflight and concealment. Henry, the sub-out adding a word touching the feudal ject of the Poem, was deprived of his es- Edifices, spoken of in the Poem. The tate and honours during the space of Cliffords had always been distinguished twenty-four years; all which time he lived for an honourable pride in these Castles; as a shepherd in Yorkshire, or in Cumber. and, after the wars of York and Lancas. land, where the estate of his Father-in-law ter, they were rebuilt; in the civil wars (Sir Lancelot Threlkeld) lay. He was re- of Charles the First they were again laid stored to his estate and honours in the waste, and again restored almost to their first year of Henry the Seventh. It is re- former magnificence by the celebrated corder that, “when called to Parliament, Lady Anne Clifforil, Countess of Pem. he bchaved nobly and wiscly; but other. I broke.

Here, 'mid his own unvex'd domains, While Faith, from yonder opening cloud, A Genius dwells, that can subdue To hill and vale proclaims aloud, [ed dare, At once all memory of You, —

“Whate'er the weak may dread, the wick. Most potent when mists veil the sky, Thy lot, O Man, is good, thy portion Mists that distort and magnify;

fair 1" 4

(1817. While the coarse rushes, to the sweeping breeze,

TO ENTERPRISE. Sigh forth their ancient melodies!

KEEP for the Young th’impassion'd smile. III.

Shed from thy countenance, as I see thee List to those shriller notes l_ that march

stand Perchance was on the blast, [arch, High on that chalky cliff of Briton's Isle, When, through this Height's inverted A slender volume grasping in thy hand, Rome's earliest legion pass'd! –

(Perchance the pages that relate They saw, adventurously impell’d,

The various turns of Crusoe's fate,) And older eyes than theirs beheld,

Ah, spare th' exulting smile, This block, - and yon, whose church-like And drop thy pointing finger bright frame

As the first flash of beacon light; Gives to this savage Pass its name.

But neither veil thy head in shadows dim, Aspiring Road! that lov'st to hide

Nor turn thy face away Thy daring in a vapoury bourn,

From One who, in the evening of his day, Not seldom may the hour return

To thee would offer no presumptuous When thou shalt be my guide:

hymn! And I (as all men may find cause,

I. When life is at a weary pause,

Bold Spirit! who art free to rove
And they have panted up the hill

Among the starry courts of Jove,
Of duty with reluctant will)
Be thankful, even though tired and faint, Embodied to poetic eyes,

And oft in splendour dost appear
For the rich bounties of constraint;

While traversing this nether sphere, Whence oft invigorating transports flow

Where Mortals call thee ENTERPRISE. That choice lacked courage to bestow!

Daughter of Hopel her favourite Child,

Whom she to young Ambition bore,
IV.

When Hunter's arrow first defiled
My Soul was grateful for delight

The grove,

and stain'd the turf with gore; That wore a threatening brow;

Thee winged Fancy took, and nursed A veil is lifted, - can she slight

On broad Euphrates' palmy shore, The scene that opens now?

And where the mightier Waters burst Though habitation none appear

From caves of Indian mountains hoar! The greenness tells, man must be there;

She wrapp'd thee in a panther's skin; The shelter, - that the perspective

And Thou, thy favourite food to win, Is of the clime in which we live;.

The flame-eyed eagle oft wouldst scare Where Toil pursues his daily round;

From her rock fortress in mid air, Where Pity sheds sweet tears; and Love, with infant shout; and often sweep, In woodbine bower or birchen grove,

Pair'd with the ostrich, o'er the plain; Inflicts his tender wound.

Or, tired with sport, wouldst sink asleep Who comes not hither ne'er shall know

Upon the couchant lion's mane! How beautiful the world below;

With rolling years thy strength increased; Nor can he guess how lightly leaps

And, far beyond thy native East, The brook adown the rocky steeps.

To thee, by varying titles known
Farewell, thou desolate Domain!

As variously thy power was shown,
Hope, pointing to the cultured plain,
Carols like a shepherd-boy;
And who is she? - Can that be Joy ?

4 Thoughts and feelings of many walks

in all weathers, by day and night, over Who, with a sunbeam for her guide,

this Pass, alone, and with beloved friends. Smoothly skims the meadows wide; - Author's Notes.

Did incense-bearing altars rise,

And, slighting sails and scorzing oars, Which caught the blaze of sacrifice, Keep faith with Time on distanit shores? From suppliants panting for the skies! Within our fearless reach are placed

The secrets of the burning Waste;
II.

Egyptian tombs unlock their dead,
What though this ancient Earth be trod Nile trembles at his fountain head;
No more by step of Demi-god

Thou speak’st, - and, lo! the polar Seas Mounting from glorious deed to deed, Unbosom their last mysteries.- (reward, As thou from clime to clime didst lead; But, O! what transports, what sublime Yet still, the bosom beating high, Won from the world of mind, dost thou And the hush'd farewell of an eye,

prepare Where no procrastinating gaze

For philosophic Sage; or high-souled Bard A last infirmity betrays,

Who, for thy service train'd in lonely Prove that thy heaven-descended sway woods,

[the air, Shall nc'er submit to cold decay. Hath fed on pageants floating through By thy divinity impell’d,

Or calentured in depth of limpid floods; The Stripling seeks the tented field; Nor grieves, - though doom'd thro' silent Th’ aspiring Virgin kneels; and, pale

night to bear With awe, receives the hallow'd veil, The domination of his glorious themes, A soft and tender Heroine

Or struggle in the net-work of thy dreams! Vow'd to severer discipline:

III.
Inflamed by thee, the blooming Boy
Makes of the whistling shrouds a toy,

If there be movements in the Patriot's And of the ocean's dismal breast

soul,

(worth, A play-ground, -- or a couch of rest: From source still deeper, and of higher 'Mid the blank world of snow and ice, 'Tis thine the quickening impulse to conThou to his dangers dost enchain

trol, The Chamois-chaser awed in vain And in due season send the mandate forth: By chasm or dizzy precipice:

Thy call a prostrate Nation can restore, And hast Thou not with triumph seen

When but a single Mind resolves to crouch How soaring mortals glide between

no more. Or through the clouds, and brave the light

IV. With bolder than Icarian fight? 5

Dread Minister of wrath! How they, in bells of crystal, dive, (Where winds and waters cease to strive,)

Who to their destined punishment dost For no unholy visitings,

urge

[harden'd heart!

The Pharaohs of the Earth, the men of Among the monsters of the Deep; And all the sad and precious things

Not unassisted by the flattering stars, Which there in ghastly silence sleep?

Thou strew'st temptation o'er the path Or, adverse tides and currents headed,

When they in pomp depart
And breathless calms no longer dreaded,
In never-slackening voyage go

6 This is the only instance I remember Straight as an arrow from the bow; to have met with of calenture thus used as

a verb. The word properly means a fever,

and hence is put for the furious delirium 5. Alluding, of course, to the bold spirit or frenzy caused by the heat of the tropi. of Enterprise as displayed in balloon-voy- cal sun at sea, which often leads sailors to aging: - The unclassical reader may like throw themselves into the water. The to be told that Icarus was the son of that sense of the word in this place may be wonderful mechanic, Dædalus, whose tri- gathered from a passage in Swift's South. umphs of ingenuity caused him to be im. Sea Project, 1721: prisoned by Minos. Being released by “So, by a calenture misled, Pasiphaë, to aid his flight from Minos, he The mariner with rapture sees, procured wings for himself and his son, On the sinooth ocean's azure bed, and fastened them on with wax. In their Enamell'al fields and verdant trees: flight, the youngster, being something With eager haste he longs to rove over-bold, flew too near the Sun, so that In that fantastic scene, and thinks the wax was melted, and he fell (lown into It must be some enchanted grove: what was thence called the Icarian sea. And in he leaps and down he sinks."

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