Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore, That ask no aid of sail or oar, That fear no spite of wind or tide!. 15 Nought cared this body for wind or weather When Youth and I lived in't together. Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like; O! the joys, that came down shower-like, Ere I was old! Ere I was old? - Ah, woeful Ere, I see these locks in silvery slips, 20 25 30 35 Dewdrops are the gems of morning, When we are old: That only serves to make us grieve Yet hath outstay'd his welcome while, ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION 40 45 Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove, The linnet, and thrush, say, "I love and I love!" weather, And singing, and loving all come back together. But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, 5 10 SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER DEAR native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West! What happy and what mournful hours, since last But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, And bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, 10 Gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way, Visions of Childhood! oft have ye beguiled Lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs: FRANCE: AN ODE YE Clouds! that far above me float and pause, Ye Woods! that listen to the night-birds singing, 5 Have made a solemn music of the wind! Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms which never woodman trod, My moonlight way o'er flowering weeds I wound, Inspired, beyond the guess of folly, By each rude shape and wild unconquerable sound! And O ye Clouds that far above me soared! 10 15 Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be, 20 II When France in wrath her giant-limbs upreared, And with that oath, which smote air, earth, and sea, Stamped with her strong foot and said she would be free, Bear witness for me, how I hoped and feared! 25 Unawed I sang, amid a slavish band: And when to whelm the disenchanted nation, And Britains joined the dire array; Though dear her shores and circling ocean, Though many friendships, many youthful loves, 30 And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves; 35 Yet still my voice, unaltered, sang defeat, To all that braved the tyrant-quelling lance, I dimmed thy light or damped thy holy flame; III 'And what,' I said, 'though Blasphemy's loud scream With that sweet music of deliverance strove! 40 Though all the fierce and drunken passions wove 45 A dance more wild than e'er was maniac's dream! Ye storms, that round the dawning east assembled, The Sun was rising, though ye hid his light!' And when, to soothe my soul, that hoped and trembled, The dissonance ceased, and all seemed calm and bright; When France her front deep-scarr'd and gory 50 When, insupportably advancing, Her arm made mockery of the warrior's ramp; 55 Domestic treason, crushed beneath her fatal stamp, Writhed like a wounded dragon in his gore; Then I reproached my fears that would not flee; 'And soon,' I said, 'shall Wisdom teach her lore In the low huts of them that toil and groan! 60 |