A history only of departed things,
Or a mere fiction of what never was?
For the discerning intellect of Man,
When wedded to this goodly universe
In love and holy passion, shall find these
A simple produce of the common day.

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My heart in genuine freedom: - all pure thoughts Be with me; - so shall thy unfailing love 106 Guide, and support, and cheer me to the end!

TO THE CUCKOO

O blithe New-comer! I have heard,

бо

I hear thee and rejoice.

I, long before the blissful hour arrives, Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse Of this great consummation: - and, by words Which speak of nothing more than what we are, Would I arouse the sensual from their sleep Of death, and win the vacant and the vain To noble raptures; while my voice proclaims How exquisitely the individual mind (And the progressive powers perhaps no less Of the whole species) to the external world Is fitted: - and how exquisitely, too— Theme this but little heard of among men The external world is fitted to the mind; And the creation (by no lower name

65

Thy twofold shout I hear,

From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near.

Can it be called) which they with blended might
Accomplish: - this is our high argument.
Such grateful haunts foregoing, if I oft
Must turn elsewhere to travel near the tribes
And fellowships of men, and see ill sights
Of madding passions mutually inflamed;
Must hear Humanity in fields and groves
Pipe solitary anguish; or must hang
Brooding above the fierce confederate storm
Of sorrow, barricadoed evermore
Within the walls of cities

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Thou bringest unto me a tale

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may these sounds 80

The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry

Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky.

Have their authentic_comment; that even these Hearing, I be not downcast or forlorn!

20

Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!

O Duty! if that name thou love

Who art a light to guide, a rod

Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;

A countenance in which did meet

Sweet records, promises as sweet;

A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.

To check the erring, and reprove;