REFLECTIONS ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose Peeped at the chamber-window. We could hear At silent noon, and eve, and early morn, The Sea's faint murmur. In the open air Our Myrtles blossomed; and across the Porch Thick jasmins twined: the little landscape round Was green and woody, and refreshed the eye. It was a spot which you might aptly call The VALLEY of SECLUSION! Once I saw (Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quietness) A wealthy son of commerce saunter by, Bristowa's citizen: methought, it calmed His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse With wiser feelings: for he paused, and looked
With a pleased sadness, and gazed all around, Then eyed our Cottage, and gazed round again, And sighed, and said, it was a Blessed Place. And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen Gleaming on sunny wings) in whispered tones I've said to my beloved, "Such, sweet girl! “The inobtrusive song of Happiness, "Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard
"When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hushed, "And the Heart listens!"
From that low Dell, steep up the stony Mount I climbed with perilous toil and reached the top, Oh! what a goodly scene! Here the bleak Mount, The bare bleak Mountain speckled thin with sheep; Grey clouds, that shadowing spot the sunny fields; And River, now with bushy rocks o'erbrowed, Now winding bright and full, with naked banks; And Seats, and Lawns, the Abbey and the Wood, And Cots, and Hamlets, and faint City-spire; The Channel there, the Islands and white Sails, Dim Coasts, and cloud-like Hills, and shoreless Ocean-
It seemed like Omnipresence! God, methought, Had built him there a Temple: the whole World Seemed imaged in its vast circumference, No wish profaned my overwhelmed Heart. Blest hour! It was a Luxury,—to be!
Ah! quiet dell! dear cot, and mount sublime! I was constrained to quit you. Was it right, While my unnumbered brethren toiled and bled, That I should dream away the entrusted hours On rose-leaf Beds, pampering the coward Heart With feelings all too delicate for use?
Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Drops on the cheek of One he lifts from Earth: And He that works me good with unmoved face, Does it but half: he chills me while he aids, My Benefactor, not my Brother Man!
Yet even this, this cold Beneficence
Praise, praise it, O my Soul! oft as thou scann'st The Sluggard Pity's vision-weaving Tribe!
Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the wretched, Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty Sympathies!
I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand,
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.
Yet oft when after honourable toil
Rests the tired mind, and waking loves to dream, My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot!
Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose, And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air. And I shall sigh fond wishes-sweet Abode! Ah!-had none greater! And that all had such! It might be so-but the time is not yet. Speed it, O Father! Let thy Kingdom come!
TO THE REV. GEORGE COLERIDGE OF OTTERY ST. MARY, DEVON.
Notus in fratres animi paterni.
HOR. Carm. lib. 1. 2.
A BLESSED lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early manhood in the stir And turmoil of the world, retreats at length, With cares that move, not agitate the Heart, To the same Dwelling where his Father dwelt; And haply views his tottering little ones Embrace those aged knees and climb that lap, On which first kneeling his own Infancy Lisped its brief prayer. Such, O my earliest Friend! Thy lot, and such thy brothers too enjoy
At distance did ye climb Life's upland road,
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