Huddling together from two fears

the fear

Of me and of the storm. Full many an hour

Here did I lose.

But in this grove the trees

Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven

In such perplexed and intricate array,

That vainly did I seek, beneath their stems

A length of open space, where to and fro
My feet might move without concern or care;
And, baffled thus, though earth from day to day
Was fettered, and the air by storm disturbed,
I ceased the shelter to frequent,

and prized,

Less than I wished to prize, that calm recess.

The snows dissolved, and genial Spring returned
To clothe the fields with verdure. Other haunts
Meanwhile were mine; till, one bright April day,
By chance retiring from the glare of noon
To this forsaken covert, there I found
A hoary pathway traced between the trees,
And winding on with such an easy line
Along a natural opening, that I stood

Much wondering how I could have sought in vain.
For what was now so obvious. To abide,

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For an allotted interval of ease,

Under my cottage-roof, had gladly come

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From the wild sea a cherished Visitant;

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And with the sight of this same path begun,

Begun and ended, in the shady grove,

Pleasant conviction flashed upon my mind

That, to this opportune recess allured,
He had surveyed it with a finer eye,

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A heart more wakeful; and had worn the track

By pacing here, unwearied and alone,

In that habitual restlessness of foot

That haunts the Sailor measuring o'er and o'er

His short domain upon the vessel's deck,
While she pursues her course through the dreary sea.
When thou hadst quitted Esthwaite's pleasant shore,
And taken thy first leave of those green hills
And rocks that were the play-ground of thy youth,
Year followed year, my Brother! and we two,
Conversing not, knew little in what mould

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Each other's mind was fashioned; and at length,

When once again we met in Grasmere Vale,
Between us there was little other bond

Than common feelings of fraternal love.

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But thou, a Schoolboy, to the sea hadst carried
Undying recollections! Nature there

Was with thee; she, who loved us both, she still

Was with thee; and even so didst thou become
A silent Poet; from the solitude

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Of the vast sea didst bring a watchful heart
Still couchant, an inevitable ear,

And an eye practised like a blind man's touch.
Back to the joyless Ocean thou art gone;
Nor from this vestige of thy musing hours
Could I withhold thy honoured name,

and now

I love the fir-grove with a perfect love.
Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns

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Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong;
And there I sit at evening, when the steep
Of Silver-how, and Grasmere's peaceful lake,

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And one green island, gleam between the stems

Of the dark firs, a visionary scene!
And, while I gaze upon the spectacle

Of clouded splendour, on this dream-like sight

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Of solemn loveliness, I think on thee,
My Brother, and on all which thou hast lost.
Nor seldom, if I rightly guess, while Thou,

Muttering the verses which I muttered first

Among the mountains, through the midnight watch 100

Art pacing thoughtfully the vessel's deck

In some far region, here, while o'er my head,
At every impulse of the moving breeze,
The fir-grove murmurs with a sea-like sound,
Alone I tread this path; for aught I know,
Timing my steps to thine; and, with a store
Of undistinguishable sympathies,
Mingling most earnest wishes for the day
When we, and others whom we love, shall meet
A second time, in Grasmere's happy Vale.

1800-1802.

NOTE. — This wish was not granted; the lamented Person not long after perished by shipwreck, in discharge of his duty as Commander of the Honourable East India Company's Vessel, the Earl of Abergavenny.

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THE GREEN LINNET.

BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
Of spring's unclouded weather,

In this sequestered nook how sweet

To sit upon my orchard-seat!

And birds and flowers once more to greet,
My last year's friends together.

One have I marked, the happiest guest

In all this covert of the blest:

Hail to Thee, far above the rest

In joy of voice and pinion!

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ΙΟ

Thou, Linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding Spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;

And this is thy dominion.

While birds, and butterflies, and flowers,
Make all one band of paramours,
Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,
Art sole in thy employment:

A Life, a Presence like the Air,
Scattering thy gladness without care,
Too blest with any one to pair ;
Thyself thy own enjoyment.

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YEW-TREES.

THERE is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore;

Not loth to furnish weapons for the bands

Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched

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To Scotland's heaths; or those that crossed the sea
And drew their sounding bows at Azincour,
Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poitiers.

Of vast circumference and gloom profound
This solitary Tree! a living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed. But worthier still of note
Are those fraternal Four of Borrowdale,
Joined in one solemn and capacious grove;
Huge trunks! and each particular trunk a growth
Of intertwisted fibres serpentine

Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved;

Nor uninformed with Phantasy, and looks

That threaten the profane; a pillared shade,
Upon whose grassless floor of red-brown hue,
By sheddings from the pining umbrage tinged
Perennially beneath whose sable roof

Of boughs, as if for festal purpose decked

With unrejoicing berries

ghostly Shapes

May meet at noontide; Fear and trembling Hope,

Silence and Foresight; Death the Skeleton

And Time the Shadow; - there to celebrate,

As in a natural temple scattered o'er

With altars undisturbed of mossy stone,

United worship; or in mute repose

IO

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