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And must he too the ruthless change bemoan
Who scorns a false utilitarian lure
'Mid his paternal fields at random thrown?
Baffle the threat, bright Scene, from Orrest-head
Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance:
Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance
Of nature; and, if human hearts be dead,
Speak, passing winds ; ye torrents, with your strong
And constant voice, protest against the wrong.

October 12th, 1844.



PROUD were ye, Mountains, when, in times of old,
Your patriot sons, to stem invasive war,
Intrenched your brows; ye gloried in each scar:
Now, for your shame, a Power, the Thirst of Gold,
That rules o'er Britain like a baneful star,
Wills that your peace, your beauty, shall be sold,
And clear way made for her triumphal car
Through the beloved retreats your arms enfold !
Heard yE that Whistle? As her long-linked Train
Swept onwards, did the vision cross your view ?
Yes, ye were startled; - and, in balance true
Weighing the mischief with the promised gain,
Mountains, and Vales, and Floods, I call on you
To share the passion of a just disdain.



HERE, where, of havoc tired and rash undoing,
Man left this Structure to become Time's prey,
A soothing spirit follows in the way
That Nature takes, her counter-work pursuing.
See how her Ivy clasps the sacred Ruin,
Fall to prevent or beautify decay ;
And, on the mouldered walls, how bright, how gay,
The flowers in pearly dews their bloom renewing!
Thanks to the place, blessings upon the hour;
Even as I speak, the rising Sun's first smile
Gleams on the grass-crowned top of yon tall Tower
Whose cawing occupants with joy proclaim
Prescriptive title to the shattered pile
Where, Cavendish, thine seems nothing but




WELL have yon Railway Laborers to THIS ground
Withdrawn for noontide rest. They sit, they walk
Among the Ruins, but no idle talk
Is heard ; to grave demeanor all are bound;
And from one voice a Hymn with tuneful sound
Hallows once more the long-deserted Choir,
And thrills the old, sepulchral earth around.

Others look up, and with fixed eyes admire
That wide-spanned arch, wondering how it was

To keep, so high in air, its strength and grace :
All seem to feel the spirit of the place,
And by the general reverence God is praised :
Profane Despoilers, stand ye not reproved,
While thus these simple-hearted men are moved ?

June 21st, 1845.


Page 32.

To the Daisy." This Poem, and two others to the same Flower, were written in the year 1802; which is mentioned, because in some of the ideas, though not in the manner in which those ideas are connected, and likewise even in some of the expressions, there is a resemblance to passages in a Poem (lately published) of Mr. Montgomery's, entitled, A Field Flower. This being said, Mr. Montgomery will not think any apology due to him; I cannot, however, help addressing him in the words of the Father of English Poets.

“ Though it happe me to rehersin –

That ye han in your freshe songis saied,
Forberith me, and beth not ill apaied,
Sith that ye se I doe it in the honour
Of Love, and eke in service of the Flour.”


Page 46.

6 The Seven Sisters."

The Story of this Poem is from the German of FREDERICA BRUN.

Page 85.

The Wagoner." Several years after the event that forms the subject of the Poem, in company with my friend, the late Mr. Coleridge, I happened to fall in with the person to whom the name of Ben

jamin is given. Upon our expressing regret that we had not, for a long time, seen upon the road either him or his wagon, he said: “ They could not do without me; and as to the man who was put in my place, no good could come out of him; he was a man of no ideas."

The fact of my discarded hero's getting the horses out of a great difficulty with a word, as related in the Poem, was told me by an eyewitness.

Page 85. “ The buzzing Dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling." When the Poem was first written the note of the bird was thus described:

“ The Night-hawk is singing his frog-like tune,

Twirling his watchman's rattle about _" but from unwillingness to startle the reader at the outset by so bold a mode of expression, the passage was altered as it now stands.

Page 103. After the line, “ Can any mortal clog come to her?” followed in the MS. an incident which has been kept back. Part of the suppressed verses shall here be given, as a gratification of private feeling, which the well-disposed reader will find no difficulty in excusing. They are now printed for the first time.

“Can any mortal clog come to her?

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But Benjamin, in his vexation,
Possesses inward consolation;
He knows his ground, and hopes to find
A spot with all things to his mind,
An upright mural block of stone,
Moist with pure water trickling down.
A slender spring; but kind to man
It is, a true Samaritan;
Close to the highway, pouring out

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