And, drawing nigh, with his living eye, And whispers caught, and speeches small, Some muttered to the torrent-fall "Roar on, and bring him with thy call; I heard, and so may he!" Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew If Emma's Ghost it were, Or boding Shade, or if the Maid He touched; what followed who shall tell? Of slumber, shrieking back she fell, And the Stream whirled her down the dell In plunged the Knight! — when on firm ground The rescued Maiden lay, Her eyes grew bright with blissful light, Confusion passed away ; She heard, ere to the throne of grace His voice, beheld his speaking face; And, dying from his own embrace, She felt that he was true. So was he reconciled to life: Brief words may speak the rest: Within the dell he built a cell, Beside the torrent dwelling, bound By one deep, heart-controlling sound, Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course, Where clouds that spread in solemn shade Dear art thou to the light of heaven, Though minister of sorrow; Sweet is thy voice at pensive even ; Shalt take thy place with Yarrow ! 1833. XLVII. TO CORDELIA M Hallsteads, Ullswater. Nor in the mines beyond the western main, Into this flexible yet faithful Chain; Nor is it silver of romantic Spain; But from our loved Helvellyn's depths was brought, Our own domestic mountain. Thing and thought XLVIII. MOST sweet it is with unuplifted eyes The Mind's internal heaven shall shed her dews REFLECTION. I. EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY. "WHY, Willliam, on that old gray stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, And dream your time away? "Where are your books ?-that light bequeathed To Beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men to their kind. "You look round on your Mother Earth, One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, "The eye, it cannot choose but see; We cannot bid the year be still; Our bodies feel, where'er they be, "Nor less I deem that there are Powers "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum Of things for ever speaking, "Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, I sit upon this old gray stone, 1798. |