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.Slow as the fragrant whisper creepsAlong the lilied Vale,The alter'd Eye of Conquest weeps,And ruthless War grows paleRelenting that his Heart forsookSoft Concord of auspicious Look,And Love, and social Poverty;The Family of tender Fears,The Sigh, that saddens and endears,And Cares, that sweeten Joy.Then cease, thy frantic Tumults cease,Ambition, Sire of War!Nor o'er the mangled Corse of PeaceUrge on thy scythéd Car.And oh! that Reason's voice might swellWith whisper'd Airs and holy SpellTo rouse thy gentler Sense,As bending o'er the chilly bloomThe Morning wakes its soft PerfumeWith breezy Influence.[1792]An Effusion at EveningWritten in August, 1792(First Draft)Imagination, Mistress of my Love!Where shall mine Eye thy elfin haunt explore?Dost thou on yon rich Cloud thy pinions brightEmbathe in amber-glowing Floods of Light?Or, wild of speed, pursue the track of DayIn other worlds to hail the morning Ray?'Tis time to bid the faded shadowy Pleasures moveOn shadowy Memory's wings across the Soul of Love;And thine o'er Winter's icy plains to flingEach flower, that binds the breathing Locks of Spring,When blushing, like a bride, from primrose BowerShe starts, awaken'd by the pattering Shower!Now sheds the setting Sun a purple gleam,Aid, lovely Sorc'ress! aid the Poet's dream.With faery wand O bid my Love arise,The dewy brilliance dancing in her Eyes;As erst she woke with soul-entrancing MienThe thrill of Joy extatic yet serene,When link'd with Peace I bounded o'er the PlainAnd Hope itself was all I knew of Pain!Propitious Fancy hears the votive sigh –The absent Maiden flashes on mine Eye!When first the matin Bird with startling SongSalutes the Sun his veiling Clouds among.I trace her footsteps on the (accustom'd) the steaming Lawn,I view her glancing in the gleams of Dawn!When the bent Flower beneath the night-dew weepsAnd on the Lake the silver Lustre sleeps,Amid the paly Radiance soft and sadShe meets my lonely path in moonbeams clad.With her along the streamlet's brink I rove;With her I list the warblings of the Grove;And seems in each low wind her voice to float,Lone-whispering Pity in each soothing Note!As oft in climes beyond the western MainWhere boundless spreads the wildly-silent Plain,The savage Hunter, who his drowsy frameHad bask'd beneath the Sun's unclouded Flame,Awakes amid the tempest-troubled air,The Thunder's Peal and Lightning's lurid glare –Aghast he hears the rushing Whirlwind's Sweep,And sad recalls the sunny hour of Sleep!So lost by storms along Life's wild'ring WayMine Eye reverted views that cloudless Day,When, ––! on thy banks I joy'd to roveWhile Hope with kisses nurs'd the infant Love!Sweet ––! where Pleasure's streamlet glidesFann'd by soft winds to curl in mimic tides;Where Mirth and Peace beguile the blameless Day;And where Friendship's fixt star beams a mellow'd Ray;Where Love a crown of thornless Roses wears;Where soften'd Sorrow smiles within her tears;And Memory, with a Vestal's meek employ,Unceasing feeds the lambent flame of Joy!No more thy Sky Larks less'ning from my sightShall thrill th' attunéd Heartstring with delight;No more shall deck thy pensive Pleasures sweetWith wreaths of sober hue my evening seat!Yet dear to [My] Fancy's Eye thy varied sceneOf Wood, Hill, Dale and sparkling Brook between:Yet sweet to [My] Fancy's Ear the warbled song,That soars on Morning's wing thy fields among!Scenes of my Hope! the aching Eye ye leave,Like those rich Hues that paint the clouds of Eve!Tearful and saddening with the sadden'd BlazeMine Eye the gleam pursues with wistful Gaze –Sees Shades on Shades with deeper tint impend,Till chill and damp the moonless Night descend![1792]HexametersParaphrase of Psalm XLVIGod is our Strength and our Refuge: therefore will we not tremble,Tho the Earth be removed and tho' the perpetual MountainsSink in the Swell of the Ocean! God is our Strength and our Refuge.There is a River the Flowing whereof shall gladden the City,Hallelujah! the City of God! Jehova shall help her.The Idolaters raged, the kingdoms were moving in fury;But he uttered his Voice: Earth melted away from beneath them.Halleluja! th' Eternal is with us, Almighty Jehova!Fearful the works of the Lord, yea fearful his Desolations;But He maketh the Battle to cease, he burneth the Spear and the Chariot.Halleluja! th' Eternal is with us, the God of our Fathers![1799]Inscription for a Seat by the Road Side Half-Way Up a Steep Hill Facing SouthThou who in youthful vigour rich, and lightWith youthful thoughts dost need no rest! O thou,To whom alike the valley and the hillPresent a path of ease! Should e'er thine eyeGlance on this sod, and this rude tablet, stop!'Tis a rude spot, yet here, with thankful hearts,The foot-worn soldier and his familyHave rested, wife and babe, and boy, perchanceSome eight years old or less, and scantly fed,Garbed like his father, and already boundTo his poor father's trade.Or think of himWho, laden with his implements of toil,Returns at night to some far distant home,And having plodded on through rain and mireWith limbs o'erlaboured, weak from feverish heat,And chafed and fretted by December blasts,Here pauses, thankful he hath reached so far,And 'mid the sheltering warmth of these bleak treesFinds restoration – or reflect on thoseWho in the spring to meet the warmer sunCrawl up this steep hill-side, that needlesslyBends double their weak frames, already bowedBy age or malady, and when, at last,They gain this wished-for turf, this seat of sods,Repose – and, well-admonished, ponder hereOn final rest.And if a serious thoughtShould come uncalled-how soon thy motions high,Thy balmy spirits and thy fervid bloodMust change to feeble, withered, cold and dry,Cherish the wholesome sadness! And where'erThe tide of Life impel thee, O be promptTo make thy present strength the staff of all,Their staff and resting-place – so shalt thou giveTo Youth the sweetest joy that Youth can know;And for thy future self thou shalt provideThrough every change of various life, a seat,Not built by hands, on which thy inner part,Imperishable, many a grievous hour,Or bleak or sultry may repose – yea, sleepThe sleep of Death, and dream of blissful worlds,Then wake in Heaven, and find the dream all true
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