WOMAN.

Thou wilt not stay, then?

WANDERER.

May G.o.d preserve thee, And bless thy boy!

WOMAN.

A happy journey!

WANDERER.

Whither conducts the path Across yon hill?

WOMAN.

To c.u.ma.

WANDERER.

How far from hence?

WOMAN.

'Tis full three miles.

WANDERER.

Farewell!

Oh Nature, guide me on my way!

The wandering stranger guide, Who o'er the tombs Of holy bygone times Is pa.s.sing, To a kind sheltering place, From North winds safe, And where a poplar grove Shuts out the noontide ray!

And when I come Home to my cot At evening, Illumined by the setting sun, Let me embrace a wife like this, Her infant in her arms!

1772.

* Compare with the beautiful description contained in the subsequent lines, an account of a ruined temple of Ceres, given by Chamberlayne in his Pharonnida (published in 1659)

".... With mournful majesiy A heap of solitary ruins lie, Half sepulchred in dust, the bankrupt heir To prodigal antiquity...."

----- LOVE AS A LANDSCAPE PAINTER.

ON a rocky peak once sat I early, Gazing on the mist with eyes unmoving; Stretch'd out like a pall of greyish texture, All things round, and all above it cover'd.

Suddenly a boy appear'd beside me, Saying "Friend, what meanest thou by gazing On the vacant pall with such composure?

Hast thou lost for evermore all pleasure Both in painting cunningly, and forming?"

On the child I gazed, and thought in secret: "Would the boy pretend to be a master?"

"Wouldst thou be for ever dull and idle,"

Said the boy, "no wisdom thou'lt attain to; See, I'll straightway paint for thee a figure,-- How to paint a beauteous figure, show thee."

And he then extended his fore-finger,-- (Ruddy was it as a youthful rosebud) Tow'rd the broad and far outstretching carpet, And began to draw there with his finger.

First on high a radiant sun he painted, Which upon mine eyes with splendour glisten'd, And he made the clouds with golden border, Through the clouds he let the sunbeams enter; Painted then the soft and feathery summits Of the fresh and quicken'd trees, behind them One by one with freedom drew the mountains; Underneath he left no lack of water, But the river painted so like Nature, That it seem'd to glitter in the sunbeams, That it seem'd against its banks to murmur.

Ah, there blossom'd flowers beside the river, And bright colours gleam'd upon the meadow, Gold, and green, and purple, and enamell'd, All like carbuncles and emeralds seeming!

Bright and clear he added then the heavens, And the blue-tinged mountains far and farther, So that I, as though newborn, enraptured Gazed on, now the painter, now the picture.

Then spake he: "Although I have convinced thee That this art I understand full surely, Yet the hardest still is left to show thee."

Thereupon he traced, with pointed finger, And with anxious care, upon the forest, At the utmost verge, where the strong sunbeams From the shining ground appear'd reflected,

Traced the figure of a lovely maiden, Fair in form, and clad in graceful fashion, Fresh the cheeks beneath her brown locks' ambush, And the cheeks possess'd the selfsame colour As the finger that had served to paint them.

"Oh thou boy!" exclaim'd I then, "what master In his school received thee as his pupil, Teaching thee so truthfully and quickly Wisely to begin, and well to finish?"

Whilst I still was speaking, lo, a zephyr Softly rose, and set the tree-tops moving, Curling all the wavelets on the river, And the perfect maiden's veil, too, fill'd it, And to make my wonderment still greater, Soon the maiden set her foot in motion.

On she came, approaching tow'rd the station Where still sat I with my arch instructor.

As now all, yes, all thus moved together,-- Flowers, river, trees, the veil,--all moving,-- And the gentle foot of that most fair one, Can ye think that on my rock I linger'd, Like a rock, as though fast-chain'd and silent?

1788.

G.o.d, SOUL, AND WORLD.

----- RHYMED DISTICHS.

[The Distichs, of which these are given as a specimen, are about forty in number.]

WHO trusts in G.o.d, Fears not His rod.

----- THIS truth may be by all believed: Whom G.o.d deceives, is well deceived.

----- HOW? when? and where?--No answer comes from high; Thou wait'st for the Because, and yet thou ask'st not Why?

----- IF the whole is ever to gladden thee, That whole in the smallest thing thou must see.

----- WATER its living strength first shows, When obstacles its course oppose.

----- TRANSPARENT appears the radiant air, Though steel and stone in its breast it may bear; At length they'll meet with fiery power, And metal and stones on the earth will shower.

------ WHATE'ER a living flame may surround, No longer is shapeless, or earthly bound.

'Tis now invisible, flies from earth, And hastens on high to the place of its birth.

1815.*

------ PROCEMION.

IN His blest name, who was His own creation, Who from all time makes making his vocation; The name of Him who makes our faith so bright, Love, confidence, activity, and might; In that One's name, who, named though oft He be, Unknown is ever in Reality: As far as ear can reach, or eyesight dim, Thou findest but the known resembling Him; How high so'er thy fiery spirit hovers, Its simile and type it straight discovers Onward thou'rt drawn, with feelings light and gay, Where'er thou goest, smiling is the way; No more thou numbrest, reckonest no time, Each step is infinite, each step sublime.

1816.

----- WHAT G.o.d would outwardly alone control, And on his finger whirl the mighty Whole?

He loves the inner world to move, to view Nature in Him, Himself in Nature too, So that what in Him works, and is, and lives, The measure of His strength, His spirit gives.

1816.

----- WITHIN us all a universe doth dwell; And hence each people's usage laudable, That ev'ry one the Best that meets his eyes As G.o.d, yea e'en his G.o.d, doth recognise; To Him both earth and heaven surrenders he, Fears Him, and loves Him too, if that may be.