The taller followed with his hat in hand,

Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of the

land.

The other wore a rimless crown

With leaves of laurel stuck about;

And, while both followed up and down,
Each whooping with a merry shout,

In their fraternal features I could trace

Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face.

Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit

For finest tasks of earth or air:

Wings let them have, and they might flit
Precursors to Aurora's car,

Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green.

I looked reproof-they saw but neither hung his

head.

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40

"

Come! Come!" cried one, and without more ado,

Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew !

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SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING.

COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER.

WHERE are they now, those wanton Boys?

For whose free range the dædal earth

Was filled with animated toys,

And implements of frolic mirth;

With tools for ready wit to guide;

And ornaments of seemlier pride,

More fresh, more bright, than princes wear;
For what one moment flung aside,

Another could repair;

What good or evil have they seen

Their daring wiles, their sportive cheer?

Since I their pastime witnessed here,

I ask but all is dark between !

They met me in a genial hour,

When universal nature breathed

As with the breath of one sweet flower,

A time to overrule the power

Of discontent, and check the birth

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15

Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife,
The most familiar bane of life
Since parting Innocence bequeathed
Mortality to Earth!

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Or, if such faith must needs deceive
Then, Spirits of beauty and of grace,
Associates in that eager chase;
Ye, who within the blameless mind
Your favourite seat of empire find
Kind Spirits! may we not believe
That they, so happy and so fair

Through your sweet influence, and the care
Of pitying Heaven, at least were free
From touch of deadly injury?

Destined whate'er their earthly doom,

For mercy and immortal bloom!

TO A BUTTERFLY.

STAY near me

do not take thy flight!

A little longer stay in sight!

Much converse do I find in thee,

Historian of my infancy!

1817.

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40

I followed on from brake to bush;

But she, God love her, feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

TO THE CUCKOO.

O BLITHE New-comer!

I have heard,

I hear thee and rejoice.

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?

While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear,

From hill to hill it seems to pass,

At once far off, and near.

Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale

Of visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even yet thou art to me

No bird, but an invisible thing,

A voice, a mystery ;

The same whom in my school-boy days
I listened to; that Cry

Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove

Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.

And I can listen to thee yet;

Can lie upon the plain

And listen, till I do beget

That golden time again.

O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be

An unsubstantial faery place,

That is fit home for Thee!

1802.

"MY HEART LEAPS UP WHEN I BEHOLD."

My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began ;
So is it now I am a man ;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man;

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.

1802.

WRITTEN IN MARCH,

WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF BROTHER'S

WATER.

THE Cock is crowing,

The stream is flowing,

The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter,

!

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