Poems in Two Volumes, Volume 1

THE KITTEN AND THE FALLING LEAVES

* * * * *

 
  That way look, my Infant, lo!
  What a pretty baby show!
  See the Kitten on the Wall,
  Sporting with the leaves that fall,
  Wither'd leaves, one, two, and three,
  From the lofty Elder-tree!
  Through the calm and frosty air
  Of this morning bright and fair,
  Eddying round and round they sink
  Softly, slowly: one might think, 10
  From the motions that are made,
  Every little leaf convey'd
  Sylph or Faery hither tending,
  To this lower world descending,
  Each invisible and mute,
  In his wavering parachute.
  – But the Kitten, how she starts,
  Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts;
  First at one and then it's fellow
  Just as light and just as yellow; 20
  There are many now – now one —
  Now they stop; and there are none —
  What intenseness of desire
  In her upward eye of fire!
  With a tiger-leap half way
  Now she meets the coming prey,
  Lets it go as fast, and then
  Has it in her power again:
  Now she works with three or four,
  Like an Indian Conjuror; 30
  Quick as he in feats of art,
  Far beyond in joy of heart.
  Were her antics play'd in the eye
  Of a thousand Standers-by,
  Clapping hands with shout and stare,
  What would little Tabby care
  For the plaudits of the Crowd?
  Over happy to be proud,
  Over wealthy in the treasure
  Of her own exceeding pleasure! 40
 
 
  'Tis a pretty Baby-treat;
  Nor, I deem, for me unmeet:
  Here, for neither Babe or me,
  Other Play-mate can I see.
  Of the countless living things,
  That with stir of feet and wings,
  (In the sun or under shade
  Upon bough or grassy blade)
  And with busy revellings,
  Chirp and song, and murmurings, 50
  Made this Orchard's narrow space,
  And this Vale so blithe a place;
  Multitudes are swept away
  Never more to breathe the day:
  Some are sleeping; some in Bands
  Travell'd into distant Lands;
  Others slunk to moor and wood,
  Far from human neighbourhood,
  And, among the Kinds that keep
  With us closer fellowship, 60
  With us openly abide,
  All have laid their mirth aside,
  – Where is he that giddy Sprite,
  Blue-cap, with his colours bright,
  Who was blest as bird could be,
  Feeding in the apple-tree,
  Made such wanton spoil and rout,
  Turning blossoms inside out,
  Hung with head towards the ground,
  Flutter'd, perch'd; into a round 70
  Bound himself, and then unbound;
  Lithest, gaudiest Harlequin,
  Prettiest Tumbler ever seen,
  Light of heart, and light of limb,
  What is now become of Him?
  Lambs, that through the mountains went
  Frisking, bleating merriment,
  When the year was in it's prime,
  They are sober'd by this time.
  If you look to vale or hill, 80
  If you listen, all is still,
  Save a little neighbouring Rill;
  That from out the rocky ground
  Strikes a solitary sound.
  Vainly glitters hill and plain,
  And the air is calm in vain;
  Vainly Morning spreads the lure
  Of a sky serene and pure;
  Creature none can she decoy
  Into open sign of joy: 90
  Is it that they have a fear
  Of the dreary season near?
  Or that other pleasures be
  Sweeter even than gaiety?
 
 
  Yet, whate'er enjoyments dwell
  In the impenetrable cell
  Of the silent heart which Nature
  Furnishes to every Creature,
  Whatsoe'er we feel and know
  Too sedate for outward show, 100
  Such a light of gladness breaks,
  Pretty Kitten! from thy freaks,
  Spreads with such a living grace
  O'er my little Laura's face;
  Yes, the sight so stirs and charms
  Thee, Baby, laughing in my arms,
  That almost I could repine
  That your transports are not mine,
  That I do not wholly fare
  Even as ye do, thoughtless Pair! 110
  And I will have my careless season
  Spite of melancholy reason,
  Will walk through life in such a way
  That, when time brings on decay,
  Now and then I may possess
  Hours of perfect gladsomeness.
  – Pleas'd by any random toy;
  By a Kitten's busy joy,
  Or an infant's laughing eye
  Sharing in the extacy; 120
  I would fare like that or this,
  Find my wisdom in my bliss;
  Keep the sprightly soul awake,
  And have faculties to take
  Even from things by sorrow wrought
  Matter for a jocund thought;
  Spite of care, and spite of grief,
  To gambol with Life's falling Leaf.
 

THE SEVEN SISTERS, OR THE SOLITUDE OF BINNORIE

* * * * *

 
  Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald,
  All Children of one Mother:
  I could not say in one short day
  What love they bore each other,
  A Garland of seven Lilies wrought!
  Seven Sisters that together dwell;
  But he, bold Knight as ever fought,
  Their Father, took of them no thought,
  He loved the Wars so well.
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully, 10
  The Solitude of Binnorie!
 
 
  Fresh blows the wind, a western wind,
  And from the shores of Erin,
  Across the wave, a Rover brave
  To Binnorie is steering:
  Right onward to the Scottish strand
  The gallant ship is borne;
  The Warriors leap upon the land,
  And hark! the Leader of the Band
  Hath blown his bugle horn. 20
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully,
  The Solitude of Binnorie.
 
 
  Beside a Grotto of their own,
  With boughs above them closing,
  The Seven are laid, and in the shade
  They lie like Fawns reposing.
  But now, upstarting with affright
  At noise of Man and Steed,
  Away they fly to left to right —
  Of your fair household, Father Knight, 30
  Methinks you take small heed!
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully,
  The Solitude of Binnorie.
 
 
  Away the seven fair Campbells fly,
  And, over Hill and Hollow,
  With menace proud, and insult loud,
  The youthful Rovers follow.
  Cried they, "Your Father loves to roam:
  Enough for him to find
  The empty House when he comes home; 40
  For us your yellow ringlets comb,
  For us be fair and kind!"
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully,
  The Solitude of Binnorie.
 
 
  Some close behind, some side by side,
  Like clouds in stormy weather,
  They run, and cry, "Nay let us die,
  And let us die together."
  A Lake was near; the shore was steep;
  There never Foot had been; 50
  They ran, and with a desperate leap
  Together plung'd into the deep,
  Nor ever more were seen.
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully,
  The Solitude of Binnorie.
 
 
  The Stream that flows out of the Lake,
  As through the glen it rambles,
  Repeats a moan o'er moss and stone,
  For those seven lovely Campbells.
  Seven little Islands, green and bare, 60
  Have risen from out the deep:
  The Fishers say, those Sisters fair
  By Faeries are all buried there,
  And there together sleep.
  Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully
  The Solitude of Binnorie.
 

To H. C.,

SIX YEARS OLD

* * * * *

 
  O Thou! whose fancies from afar are brought;
  Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel,
  And fittest to unutterable thought
  The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol;
  Thou Faery Voyager! that dost float
  In such clear water, that thy Boat
  May rather seem
  To brood on air than on an earthly stream;
  Suspended in a stream as clear as sky,
  Where earth and heaven do make one imagery; 10
  O blessed Vision! happy Child!
  That art so exquisitely wild,
  I think of thee with, many fears
  For what may be thy lot in future years.
 
 
  I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest,
  Lord of thy house and hospitality;
  And grief, uneasy Lover! never rest
  But when she sate within the touch of thee.
 
 
  Oh! too industrious folly!
  Oh! vain and causeless melancholy! 20
  Nature will either end thee quite;
  Or, lengthening out thy season of delight,
  Preserve for thee, by individual right,
  A young Lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks.
  What hast Thou to do with sorrow,
  Or the injuries of tomorrow?
 
 
  Thou art a Dew-drop, which, the morn brings forth,
  Not doom'd to jostle with unkindly shocks;
  Or to be trail'd along the soiling earth;
  A Gem that glitters while it lives, 30
  And no forewarning gives;
  But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife
  Slips in a moment out of life.
 

Among all lovely things my Love had been

* * * * *

 
  Among all lovely things my Love had been;
  Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
  About her home; but she had never seen
  A Glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.
 
 
  While riding near her home one stormy night
  A single Glow-worm did I chance to espy;
  I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
  And from my Horse I leapt; great joy had I.
 
 
  Upon a leaf the Glow-worm did I lay,
  To bear it with me through the stormy night: 10
  And, as before, it shone without dismay;
  Albeit putting forth a fainter light.
 
 
  When to the Dwelling of my Love I came,
  I went into the Orchard quietly;
  And left the Glow-worm, blessing it by name,
  Laid safely by itself, beneath a Tree.
 
 
  The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
  At night the Glow-worm shone beneath the Tree:
  I led my Lucy to the spot, "Look here!"
  Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me! 20
 

I travell'd among unknown Men

* * * * *

 
  I travell'd among unknown Men,
    In Lands beyond the Sea;
  Nor England! did I know till then
    What love I bore to thee.
 
 
  'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
    Nor will I quit thy shore
  A second time; for still I seem
    To love thee more and more.
 
 
  Among thy mountains did I feel
    The joy of my desire; 10
  And She I cherish'd turn'd her wheel
    Beside an English fire.
 
 
  Thy mornings shew'd – thy nights conceal'd
    The bowers where Lucy play'd;
  And thine is, too, the last green field
    Which Lucy's eyes survey'd!
 

ODE TO DUTY

* * * * *

 
  Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
  O Duty! if that name thou love
  Who art a Light to guide, a Rod
  To check the erring, and reprove;
  Thou who art victory and law
  When empty terrors overawe;
  From vain temptations dost set free;
  From strife and from despair; a glorious ministry.
 
 
  There are who ask not if thine eye
  Be on them; who, in love and truth, 10
  Where no misgiving is, rely
  Upon the genial sense of youth:
  Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot;
  Who do thy work, and know it not:
  May joy be theirs while life shall last!
  And Thou, if they should totter, teach them to stand fast!
 
 
  Serene will be our days and bright,
  And happy will our nature be,
  When love is an unerring light,
  And joy its own security. 20
  And bless'd are they who in the main
  This faith, even now, do entertain:
  Live in the spirit of this creed;
  Yet find that other strength, according to their need.
 
 
  I, loving freedom, and untried;
  No sport of every random gust,
  Yet being to myself a guide,
  Too blindly have reposed my trust:
  Resolved that nothing e'er should press
  Upon my present happiness, 30
  I shoved unwelcome tasks away;
  But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.
 
 
  Through no disturbance of my soul,
  Or strong compunction in me wrought,
  I supplicate for thy controul;
  But in the quietness of thought:
  Me this uncharter'd freedom tires;
  I feel the weight of chance desires:
  My hopes no more must change their name,
  I long for a repose which ever is the same. 40
 
 
  Yet not the less would I throughout
  Still act according to the voice
  Of my own wish; and feel past doubt
  That my submissiveness was choice:
  Not seeking in the school of pride
  For "precepts over dignified,"
  Denial and restraint I prize
  No farther than they breed a second Will more wise.
 
 
  Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
  The Godhead's most benignant grace; 50
  Nor know we any thing so fair
  As is the smile upon thy face;
  Flowers laugh before thee on their beds;
  And Fragrance in thy footing treads;
  Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong;
  And the most ancient Heavens through Thee are fresh and strong.
 
 
  To humbler functions, awful Power!
  I call thee: I myself commend
  Unto thy guidance from this hour;
  Oh! let my weakness have an end! 60
  Give unto me, made lowly wise,
  The spirit of self-sacrifice;
  The confidence of reason give;
  And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!