Puslapio vaizdai
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"BEGONE, thou fond presumptuous Elf,"
Exclaimed an angry Voice,‡

"Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self

Between me and my choice!"

A small Cascade fresh swoln with snows §
Thus threatened a poor Briar-rose,

* This stanza is not in the Edition of 1815.

Let, as old Magellan did,

Others roam about the sea.-Edit. 1815.

Exclaimed a thundering voice.-Edit. 1815.

§ A falling water swollen with snow.-Edit. 1815.

That, all bespattered with his foam,

And dancing high and dancing low,

Was living, as a child might know,
In an unhappy home.

II.

"Dost thou presume my course to block?
Off, off! or, puny Thing!

I'll hurl thee headlong with the rock
To which thy fibres cling."

The Flood was tyrannous and strong ;
The patient Briar suffered long,
Nor did he utter groan or sigh,

Hoping the danger would be past;

But, seeing no relief, at last,

He ventured to reply.

III.

"Ah!" said the Briar, “blame me not ;

Why should we dwell in strife?

We who in this sequestered spot

Once lived a happy life!

You stirred me on my rocky bed—

What pleasure through my veins you spread

The summer long, from day to day,

My leaves you freshened and bedewed ;

Nor was it common gratitude

That did your cares repay.

IV.

When spring came on with bud and bell,

Among these rocks did I

Before you hang my wreaths to tell

That gentle days were nigh!

M

And in the sultry summer hours,

I sheltered you with leaves and flowers ;
And in my leaves-now shed and gone,
The linnet lodged, and for us two
Chanted his pretty songs, when you
Had little voice or none.

V.

But now proud thoughts are in your breast— What grief is mine you see,

Ah! would you think, even yet how blest

Together we might be !

Though of both leaf and flower bereft,

Some ornaments to me are left

Rich store of scarlet hips is mine,
With which I, in my humble way,
Would deck you many a winter day,
A happy Eglantine ! "

VI.

What more he said I cannot tell,
The Torrent down the rocky dell
Came thundering loud and fast ;*
I listened, nor aught else could hear;
The Briar quaked-and much I fear
Those accents were his last.

*The torrent thundered down the dell
With unabating haste.-Edit. 1815.

1800.

TO A SKY-LARK.

Up with me! up with me into the clouds ! For thy song, Lark, is strong;

Up with me, up with me into the clouds !
Singing, singing,

With clouds and sky about thee ringing,
Lift me, guide me till I find

That spot which seems so to thy mind!

I have walked through wildernesses dreary And to-day my heart is weary;

Had I now the wings of a Faery,

Up to thee would I fly.

There is madness about thee, and joy divine

In that song of thine ;

Lift me, guide me high and high

To thy banqueting-place in the sky.

Joyous as morning,

Thou art laughing and scorning;

Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest,
And, though little troubled with sloth,
Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth
To be such a traveller as I.
Happy, happy Liver,

With a soul as strong as a mountain river
Pouring out praise to the almighty Giver,
Joy and jollity be with us both!

* Up with me, up with me, high and high.-Edit. 1815.

Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven,
Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind;
But hearing thee, or others of thy kind,

As full of gladness and as free of heaven,
I, with my fate contented, will plod on,

And hope for higher raptures, when life's day is done.*

1805.

TO A SEXTON.

LET thy wheel-barrow alone-
Wherefore, Sexton, piling still

In thy bone-house bone on bone?
'Tis already like a hill

In a field of battle made,

Where three thousand skulls are laid ;

These died in peace each with the other,

Father, sister, friend, and brother.

Mark the spot to which I point
From this platform, eight feet square,

Take not even a finger-joint :

Andrew's whole fire-side is there.

Here, alone, before thine eyes,

Simon's sickly daughter lies,

From weakness now, and pain defended,
Whom he twenty winters tended.

*In the Edition of 1815 the last stanza runs thus:

Hearing thee, or else some other,

As merry a brother,

I on the earth will go plodding on

By myself, cheerfully, till the day is done.

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