The Enfolded Prelude: Book Seventh

Book Seventh

Residence in London

Five Six changeful years are have vanished since I first poured out,first

Saluted Poured out (saluted by that animating quickening breeze

Which met me issuing from the city's walls,City's walls)

A glad preamble to this verse. Verse: I sang

Aloud in dithyrambic fervour, deepAloud, with fervour irresistible

But Of short-lived uproar, transport, like a torrent sentbursting,

Out of the bowels of From a bursting cloud

Down Scawfell or Blencathara's rugged sides,black thunder-cloud, down Scafell's side

A waterspout from heaven. To rush and disappear. But 'twas not longsoon broke forth

Ere (So willed the interrupted strain broke forth once more,Muse) a less impetuous stream,

And That flowed awhile in strength; then with unabating strength,

Then stopped for years—

Not heard again until a little space

Before last primrose-time. years; not audible again

Before last primrose-time. Beloved friend,Friend!

The assurances assurance which then given unto myself,

Which did beguile me of cheered some heavy thoughts

At On thy departure to a foreign land,land

Have Has failed; for too slowly doth this work advance.moves the promised work.

Through the whole summer I have I been at rest,

Partly from voluntary holidayholiday,

And part through outward hindrance. But I heardheard,

After the hour of sunset yester-even,

Sitting within doors betwixt between light and dark,

A voice that stirred me. 'Twas a little band,

A quire choir of redbreasts gathered somewhere near

My threshold, minstrels from the distant woods

And dells, sent Sent in by Winter to bespeak

For the old man a welcome, on Winter's service, to announceannounce,

With preparation artful and benign—

Yea, the most gentle music of the year

That their rough lord had left the surly north,

And hath begun his journey. A delightbenign,

At That the rough lord had left the surly North

On his accustomed journey. The delight,

Due to this unthought-of-greeting timely notice, unawares

Smote me, a sweetness of the coming time,

And, and, listening, I half whispered, 'We will be,in whispers said,

Ye "Ye heartsome choristers, Choristers, ye and I will be

Brethren, and in the hearing of bleak windsAssociates, and, unscared by blustering winds,

Will chaunt together.' And, thereafter, walkingchant together." Thereafter, as the shades

By later Of twilight on the hills deepened, going forth, I sawspied

A glow-worm, from beneath glow-worm underneath a dusky shadeplume

Or canopy of the yet unwithered fernfern,

Clear shining, Clear-shining, like a hermit's taper seen

Through a thick forest. Silence touched me here

No less than sound had done before; the child

Of summer, Summer, lingering, shining shining, by itself,herself,

The voiceless worm on the unfrequented hills,

Seemed sent on the same errand with the quirechoir

Of winter Winter that had warbled at my door,

And the whole year seemed breathed tenderness and love.

The last night's genial feeling overflowed

Upon this morning, and my favorite grove—

Now tossing its dark boughs in sun and wind—

Spreads through me a commotion like its own,

Something that fits me for the poet's task,

Which we will now resume with chearful hope,

Nor checked by aught of tamer argument

That lies before us, needful to be told.favourite grove,

Tossing in sunshine its dark boughs aloft,

As if to make the strong wind visible,

Wakes in me agitations like its own,

A spirit friendly to the Poet's task,

Which we will now resume with lively hope,

Nor checked by aught of tamer argument

That lies before us, needful to be told.

Returned from that excursion, soon I bade

Farewell for ever to the private bowerssheltered seats

Of gowned students students, quitted these, no morehall and bower,

To enter them, and pitched my vagrant tent,And every comfort of that privileged ground,

A casual dweller and at large, Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among

The unfenced regions of society.

Yet Yet, undetermined to what plan course of life

I should adhere, and seeming thence to havepossess

A little space of intermediate time

Loose and at At full command, to London first

first I turned, if not in calmness, neverthelessturned,

In no disturbance of excessive hope—

At ease from all ambition personal,

Frugal as there was need, and though self-willed,

Yet temperate and reserved, and wholly free

From dangerous passions. 'Twas at least two yearshope,

Before this season when By personal ambition unenslaved,

Frugal as there was need, and, though self-willed,

From dangerous passions free. Three years had flown

Since I had felt in heart and soul the shock

Of the huge town's first beheldpresence, and had paced

That mighty place, Her endless streets, a transient visitant;visitant:

Now, fixed amid that concourse of mankind

Where Pleasure whirls about incessantly,

And now it pleased me my abode to fixlife and labour seem but one, I filled

Single in the wide waste. An idler's place; an idler well content

To have a house,

It was enough what house (what matter for a home?—

That owned me, living chearfully abroad

With fancy on the stir from day to day,

And all my young affections out of doors.home?)

That owned him; living cheerfully abroad

With unchecked fancy ever on the stir,

And all my young affections out of doors.

There was a time when whatso'er whatsoe'er is feigned

Of airy palaces palaces, and gardens built

By genii Genii of romance, romance; or hath in grave

Authentic history been set forth of Rome,

Alcairo, Babylon, or Persepolis,Persepolis;

Or given upon report by pilgrim friarsfriars,

Of golden cities ten months' journey deep

Among Tartarean wilds, Tartarian wilds fell short, far short,

Of that which I in simpleness what my fond simplicity believed

And thought of London held me by a chain

Less strong of wonder and obscure delight.

I know not that herein I shot beyondWhether the bolt of childhood's Fancy shot

The common mark of childhood, but I wellFor me beyond its ordinary mark,

Remember that among 'Twere vain to ask; but in our flock of boys

Was one, One, a cripple from the his birth, whom chance

Summoned from school to London London; fortunate

And envied traveller and when he traveller! When the Boy returned,

After short absence, and curiously I first set eyesscanned

Upon his His mien and person, verily, though strange

The thing may seem, I nor was not wholly freefree, in sooth,

From disappointment to behold the same

Appearance, the same body, disappointment, not to find

Some change, find some beams of glory brought awaychange

From In look and air, from that new region, region brought,

As if from Fairy-land. Much I questioned him,him;

And every word he uttered, on my ears

Fell flatter than a caged parrot's note,

That answers unexpectedly awry,

And mocks the prompter's listening. Marvellous things

My fancy had shaped forth of sights and shows,Had vanity (quick Spirit that appears

Processions, equipages, lords Almost as deeply seated and dukes,as strong

In a Child's heart as fear itself) conceived

For my enjoyment. Would that I could now

Recall what then I pictured to myself,

Of mitred Prelates, Lords in ermine clad,

The King King, and the King's palace, and Palace, and, not lastlast,

Or Nor least, heaven Heaven bless him! the renowned Lord Mayor—

Dreams hardly less intense than those which wrought

A change of purpose in young Whittington

When he in fiendlessness, a drooping boy,

Sate on a stone and heard the bells speak out

Articulate music. Mayor.

Dreams not unlike to those which once begat

A change of purpose in young Whittington,

When he, a friendless and a drooping boy,

Sate on a stone, and heard the bells speak out

Articulate music. Above all, one thought

Baffled my understanding, understanding: how men lived

Even next-door neighbours, as we say, yet still

Strangers, and knowing not knowing each the other's names.name.

Oh Oh, wondrous power of words, how sweet they areby simple faith

According Licensed to take the meaning which they bring—

Vauxhall and Ranelagh, I then had heard

Of your green groves and wilderness of lamps,

Your gorgeous ladies, fairy cataracts,

And pageant fireworks. Nor must that we forgetlove!

Those other wonders, different Vauxhall and Ranelagh! I then had heard

Of your green groves, and wilderness of lamps

Dimming the stars, and fireworks magical,

And gorgeous ladies, under splendid domes,

Floating in kinddance, or warbling high in air

Though scarcely The songs of spirits! Nor had Fancy fed

With less illustrious in degree,delight upon that other class

Of marvels, broad-day wonders permanent:

The river River proudly bridged, bridged; the giddy dizzy top

And Whispering Gallery of St. Paul's, Paul's; the tombs

Of Westminster, Westminster; the Giants of Guildhall,Guildhall;

Bedlam Bedlam, and the two figures those carved maniacs at its the gates,

Streets without end and churches numberless,Perpetually recumbent; Statues man,

Statues with flowery gardens And the horse under him in gilded pomp

Adorning flowery gardens, 'mid vast squares,squares;

The Monument, and Armoury that Chamber of the Tower.Tower

These fond imaginations, of themselves,Where England's sovereigns sit in long array,

Had long before given way Their steeds bestriding, every mimic shape

Cased in season due,the gleaming mail the monarch wore,

Leaving a throng of Whether for gorgeous tournament addressed,

Or life or death upon the battle-field.

Those bold imaginations in due time

Had vanished, leaving others in their stead;stead:

And now I looked upon the real scene,living scene;

Familiarly perused it day by day,

With keen and lively pleasure even thereit; oftentimes,

Where disappointment was the strongest, In spite of strongest disappointment, pleased

Through courteous self-submission, as a tax

Paid to the object by prescriptive right,right.

A thing that ought to be. Shall I give way,Rise up, thou monstrous ant-hill on the plain

Copying the impression Of a too busy world! Before me flow,

Thou endless stream of the memory—

Though things remembered idly do half seem

The work of fancy shall I, as the mood

Inclines me, here describe for pastime's sake,

Some portion of that motley imagery,

A vivid pleasure of my youth, and now,

Among the lonely places that I love,

A frequent daydream for my riper mind?

And first, the look and aspect of the place—

The broad highway appearance, as it strikes

On strangers of all ages, the quick dance

Of colours, lights and forms, the Babel din,

The endless stream of men and moving things,

From hour to hour the illimitable walk

Still among streets, with clouds and sky above,

The wealth, the bustle and the eagerness,

The glittering chariots with their pampered steeds,

Stalls, barrows, porters, midway in the street

The scavenger that begs with hat in hand,

The labouring hackney-coaches, the rash speed

Of coaches travelling far, whirled on with horn

Loud blowing, and the sturdy drayman's team

Ascending from some alley of the Thames

And striking right across the crowded Strand

Till the fore-horse veer round with punctual skill;

Here, there, and everywhere, a weary throng,

That comers and the goers face to face

Face after face the string of dazzling wares,

Shop after shop, with symbols, blazoned names,

And all the tradesman's honours overhead:

Here, fronts of houses, like a title-page

With letters huge inscribed from top to toe;

Stationed above the door like guardian saints,

There, allegoric shapes, female or male,

Or physiognomies of real men,

Land-warriors, kings, or admirals of the sea,

Boyle, Shakespear, Newton, or the attractive head

Of some quack-doctor, famous in his day.men and moving things!

Thy every-day appearance, as it strikes—

With wonder heightened, or sublimed by awe—

On strangers, of all ages; the quick dance

Of colours, lights, and forms; the deafening din;

The comers and the goers face to face,

Face after face; the string of dazzling wares,

Shop after shop, with symbols, blazoned names,

And all the tradesman's honours overhead:

Here, fronts of houses, like a title-page,

With letters huge inscribed from top to toe,

Stationed above the door, like guardian saints;

There, allegoric shapes, female or male,

Or physiognomies of real men,

Land-warriors, kings, or admirals of the sea,

Boyle, Shakspeare, Newton, or the attractive head

Of some quack-doctor, famous in his day.

Meanwhile the roar continues, till at length,

Escaped as from an enemy, we turn

Abruptly into some sequestered nook,

Still as a sheltered place when winds blow loud.loud!

At leisure leisure, thence, through tracts of thin resort,

And sights and sounds that come at intervals,

We take our way a way. A raree-show is herehere,

With children gathered round, round; another street

Presents a company of dancing dogs,

Or dromedary dromedary, with an antic pair

Of monkies monkeys on his back, back; a minstrel-bandminstrel band

Of Savoyards, Savoyards; or, single and alone,

An English ballad-singer. Private courts,

Gloomy as coffins, and unsightly lanes

Thrilled by some female vendor's screamscream, belike

The very shrillest of all London cries—

May then entangle us awhile,

Conducted through those labyrinths unawares

To privileged regions and inviolate,

Where from their aery lodges studious lawyers

Look out on waters, walks, and gardens green.cries,

belikeMay then entangle our impatient steps;

Conducted through those labyrinths, unawares,

To privileged regions and inviolate,

Where from their airy lodges studious lawyers

Look out on waters, walks, and gardens green.

Thence back into the throng, until we reach—

Following the tide that slackens by degrees—

Some half-frequented scene where wider streets

Bring straggling breezes of suburban air.reach,

Following the tide that slackens by degrees,

Some half-frequented scene, where wider streets

Bring straggling breezes of suburban air.

Here files of ballads dangle from dead walls,walls;

Advertisements Advertisements, of giant size, giant-size, from high

Press forward forward, in all colours colours, on the sigh[—

These, bold in conscious merit lower down,

That, fronted with a most imposing word,

Is peradventure one in masquerade.sight;

These, bold in conscious merit, lower down;

'That', fronted with a most imposing word,

Is, peradventure, one in masquerade.

As on the broadening causeway we advance,

Behold Behold, turned upwards, a face turned up towards us, hard and strong

In lineaments, and red with over-toil:over-toil.

'Tis one perhaps already met elsewhere,encountered here and everywhere;

A travelling cripple, by the trunk cut short,

And stumping with on his arms. In sailor's garb

Another lies at length length, beside a range

Of written well-formed characters, with chalk inscribed

Upon the smooth flat stones. The nurse flint stones: the Nurse is here,

The bachelor Bachelor, that loves to sun himself,

The military idler, Idler, and the dameDame,

That field-ward takes her walk in decency.with decent steps.

Now homeward through the thickening hubbub, where

See See, among less distinguishable shapes—

The Italian, with his frame of images

Upon his head; with basket at his waist,

The Jew; the stately and slow-moving Turk,

With freight of slippers piled beneath his arm.shapes,

Briefly, we find (if tired The begging scavenger, with hat in hand;

The Italian, as he thrids his way with care,

Steadying, far-seen, a frame of random sights,images

And haply to that search our thoughts should turn)Upon his head; with basket at his breast

Among The Jew; the crowd, conspicuous less or morestately and slow-moving Turk,

As we proceed, With freight of slippers piled beneath his arm!

Enough; the mighty concourse I surveyed

With no unthinking mind, well pleased to note

Among the crowd all specimens of manman,

Through all the colours which the sun bestows,

And every character of form and face:

The Swede, the Russian; from the genial south,

The Frenchman and the Spaniard; from remote

America, the hunter Indian; Hunter-Indian; Moors,

Malays, Lascars, the Tartar and Tartar, the Chinese,

And Negro ladies Ladies in white muslin gowns.

At leisure let us view leisure, then, I viewed, from day to day,

As they present themselves, the spectacles

Within doors: troops of wild beasts, The spectacles within doors, birds and beasts

Of every nature from all climes convened,nature, and strange plants convened

And, next to these, From every clime; and, next, those mimic sights that ape

The absolute presence of reality,

Expressing Expressing, as in mirror mirror, sea and land,

And what earth is, and what she hath has to shew—

I do not here allude to subtlest craft,

By means refined attaining purest ends,

But imitations fondly made in plain

Confession of man's weakness and his loves.show.

Whether the painter fashioning a workI do not here allude to subtlest craft,

To Nature's circumambient scenery,By means refined attaining purest ends,

And with But imitations, fondly made in plain

Confession of man's weakness and his greedy pencil loves.

Whether the Painter, whose ambitious skill

Submits to nothing less than taking in

A whole horizon on all sides horizon's circuit, do with powerpower,

Like that of angels or commissioned spirits,

Plant Fix us upon some lofty pinnaclepinnacle,

Or in a ship on waters, with a world

Of life life, and lifelike life-like mockery to east,beneath,

To west, beneath, behind us, Above, behind, far stretching and before,before;

Or more mechanic artist represent

By scale exact, in model, wood or clay,

From shading blended colours also borrowing help,

Some miniature of famous spots and things,

Domestic, or the boast of foreign realms:

The Firth of Forth, and Edinburgh, throned

On crags, fit empress of that mountain land;

St things,—

St. Peter's Church; or, more aspiring aim,

In microscopic vision, Rome itself;herself;

Or else, perhaps, Or, haply, some choice rural haunt, the Falls

Of Tivoli, and dim Frescati's bowers,

And Tivoli; and, high upon the steep that mouldering fane,steep,

The Temple of the Sibyl Sibyl's mouldering Temple! every treetree,

Through all Villa, or cottage, lurking among rocks

Throughout the landscape, landscape; tuft, stone, stone scratch minute,minute

And every cottage, lurking in All that the rocks.—

All that the traveller sees when he is there.traveller sees when he is there.

And Add to these exhibitions exhibitions, mute and stillstill,

Others of wider scope, where living men,

Music, and shifting pantomimic scenes,

Together joined their multifarious aid

To heighten Diversified the allurement. Need I fear

To mention by its name, as in degreedegree,

Lowest of these, these and humblest in attempt.—

Yet richly graced with honours of its own.attempt,

Yet richly graced with honours of her own,

Half-rural Sadler's Wells? Though at that time

Intolerant, as is the way of youth

Unless itself be pleased, I here more than once

Here took Taking my seat, and, maugre frequent fitsI saw (nor blush to add,

Of irksomeness, with With ample recompense

Saw singes, rope-dancers, recompense) giants and dwarfs,

Clowns, conjurors, posture-masters, harlequins,

Amid the uproar of the rabblement,

Perform their feats. Nor was it mean delight

To watch crude Nature work in untaught minds,minds;

To note the laws and progress of belief—

Though obstinate on this way, yet on that

How willingly we travel, and how far !—

To have, for instance, brought upon the scene

The champion, Jack the Giant-killer; lo,

He dons his coat of darkness, on the stage

Walks, and archieves his wonders, from the eye

Of living mortal safe as is the moon

'Hid in her vacant interlunar cave'.belief;

Delusion bold (and faith must needs be coy)Though obstinate on this way, yet on that

How is it wrought? willingly we travel, and how far!

To have, for instance, brought upon the scene

The champion, Jack the Giant-killer: Lo!

He dons his coat of darkness; on the stage

Walks, and achieves his wonders, from the eye

Of living Mortal covert, "as the moon

Hid in her vacant interlunar cave."

Delusion bold! and how can it be wrought?

The garb he wears is black, black as death, the word

Invisible "Invisible" flames forth upon his chest.

Nor was it unamusing here to viewHere, too, were "forms and pressures of the time,"

Those samples, Rough, bold, as of the ancient comedyGrecian comedy displayed

And Thespian times, When Art was young; dramas of living menmen,

And recent things yet warm with life: life; a sea-fight,

Shipwreck, or some domestic incident

The fame of which is scattered through the land,Divulged by Truth and magnified by Fame;

Such as this the daring brotherhood of late

Set forth forth, too holy serious theme for such a place,that light place

And doubtless treated with irreverence,I mean, O distant Friend! a story drawn

Albeit with their very best From our own ground, the Maid of skill—

I mean, O distant friend, a story drawn

From our own ground, the Maid of Buttermere,

And how the spoiler came, 'a bold bad man'

To God unfaithful, children, wife, and home,

And wooed the artless daughter of the hills,

And wedded her, in cruel mockery

Of love and marriage bonds. O friend, I speakButtermere,

With tender recollection of that timeAnd how, unfaithful to a virtuous wife

When first we saw Deserted and deceived, the maiden, then a nameSpoiler came

By us unheard And wooed the artless daughter of the hills,

And wedded her, in her cottage-inncruel mockery

Were welcomed, Of love and attended on by her,marriage bonds. These words to thee

Both stricken Must needs bring back the moment when we first,

Ere the broad world rang with one feeling of delight,the maiden's name,

An Beheld her serving at the cottage inn;

Both stricken, as she entered or withdrew,

With admiration of her modest mien

And carriage, marked by unexampled grace.

Not unfamiliarly we We since that timetime not unfamiliarly

Have seen her, her discretion have observed,

Her just opinions, female modesty,delicate reserve,

Her patience, and retiredness humility of mind

Unspoiled by commendation and the excess

Of public notice. This memorial verse

Comes from the poet's heart, and is her due;notice an offensive light

For we were nursed as almost might be said—

On the same mountains, children at one time,

Must haply often on the self-same day

Have from our several dwellings gone abroad

To gather daffodils on Coker's stream.To a meek spirit suffering inwardly.

These last words uttered, From this memorial tribute to my argumenttheme

I was returning, when when, with sundry forms

Mingled, that Commingled shapes which met me in the way which I must treadway

Before me stand That we must tread thy image rose again,

Mary Maiden of Buttermere! She lives in peace

Upon the spot where she as was born and reared;

Without contamination does doth she live

In quietness, without anxiety.anxiety:

Beside the mountain chapel chapel, sleeps in earth

Her new-born infant, fearless as a lamb

That That, thither comes driven from some unsheltered placeplace,

To rest beneath Rests underneath the little rock-like pile

When storms are blowing. raging. Happy are they both,

Mother and child! These feelings, in themselves

Trite, do yet scarcely seem so when I think

Of those ingenuous moments of our youth

Ere yet by use we have learnt to slight the crimes

And sorrows of the world. both.—

Mother and child! These feelings, in themselves

Trite, do yet scarcely seem so when I think

On those ingenuous moments of our youth

Ere we have learnt by use to slight the crimes

And sorrows of the world. Those days are nowsimple days

My theme, Are now my theme; and, 'mid foremost of the numerous scenes which theyscenes,

Have left behind them, foremost I am crossedWhich yet survive in memory, appears

Here by remembrance of two figures: oneOne, at whose centre sate a lovely Boy,

A rosy babe, who sportive infant, who, for a twelvemonth's spacesix months' space,

Perhaps Not more, had been of age to deal about

Articulate prattle, child prattle Child as beautiful

As ever sate upon clung around a mother's knee;neck,

Or father fondly gazed upon with pride.

There, too, conspicuous for stature tall

And large dark eyes, beside her infant stood

The other was the parent of that babe—

But on the mother's cheek the tints were false,

A painted bloom. 'Twas at a theatremother; but, upon her cheeks diffused,

That I beheld this pair; False tints too well accorded with the boy glare

From play-house lustres thrown without reserve

On every object near. The Boy had been

The pride and pleasure of all lookers-on

In whatsoever place, but seemed in this

A sort of alien scattered from the clouds.

Of lusty vigour, more than infantine,infantine

He was in limbs, limb, in face cheek a cottage summer rose

Just three part parts blown a cottage-child, but ne'ercottage-child if e'er,

Saw I by cottage or elsewhere By cottage-door on breezy mountain-side,

Or in some sheltering vale, was seen a babe

By Nature's gifts so honored. favoured. Upon a board,

Whence an attendant of the theatreboard

Served out refreshments, Decked with refreshments had this child been placed,placed

'His' little stage in the vast theatre,

And there he sate environed sate, surrounded with a ringthrong

Of chance spectators, chiefly dissolute men

And shameless women women, treated and caressed.caressed;

Ate, drank, and with the fruit and glasses played,

While oaths, indecent speech, oaths and ribaldrylaughter and indecent speech

Were rife about him as are the songs of birds

In springtime Contending after showers. The mother, too,mother now

Was present, but Is fading out of her I know no more

Than hath been said, and scarcely at this time

Do I remember her; memory, but I beholdsee

The lovely boy Boy as I beheld him then,then

Among the wretched and the falsely gay,

Like one of those who walked with hair unsinged

Amid the fiery furnace. He hath sinceCharms and spells

Appeared to me ofttimes as if embalmedMuttered on black and spiteful instigation

By Nature through Have stopped, as some special privilege

Stopped at believe, the growth he had destined to live,kindliest growths.

To be, to have been, come, and go, Ah, with how different spirit might a child

And nothing more, no partner in the yearsprayer

That bear us forward to distress and guilt,Have been preferred, that this fair creature, checked

Pain and abasement; beauty in such excessBy special privilege of Nature's love,

Adorned him Should in that miserable place.his childhood be detained for ever!

So have I thought of him a thousand times.But with its universal freight the tide

And seldom otherwise but he perhaps,Hath rolled along, and this bright innocent,

Mary, Mary! may now have lived till he could look

With envy on thy nameless babe that sleepssleeps,

Beside the mountain chapel chapel, undisturbed.

It was but little more than three short years

Before the season which I speak of nowFour rapid years had scarcely then been told

When first, a traveller Since, travelling southward from our pastoral hills,

Southward two hundred miles I had advanced,

And heard, and for the first time in my life did hearlife,

The voice of woman utter blasphemy.—

Saw woman as she is to open shame

Abandoned, and the pride of public vice.

Full surely from the bottom of my heart

I shuddered; but the pain was almost lost,

Absorbed and buried in the immensity

Of the effect: a barrier seemed at once

Thrown in, that from humanity divorced

The human form, splitting the race of man

In twain, yet leaving the same outward shape.—

Saw woman as she is, to open shame

Abandoned, and the pride of public vice;

I shuddered, for a barrier seemed at once

Thrown in that from humanity divorced

Humanity, splitting the race of man

In twain, yet leaving the same outward form.

Distress of mind ensued upon this the sight,

And ardent meditation afterwardsmeditation. Later years

A milder sadness on Brought to such spectaclesspectacle a milder sadness,

Attended: thought, Feelings of pure commiseration, grief,grief

For the individual and the overthrow

Of her soul's beauty beauty; farther at that time

Than this I was but then

But seldom led; led, or wished to go; in truth

The sorrow of the passion stopped me here.there.

I quit this painful theme, enough But let me now, less moved, in order take

Our argument. Enough is saidsaid to show

To shew what thoughts must often have How casual incidents of real life,

Observed where pastime only had been minesought,

At theatres, which then were my delight—

A yearning made more strong by obstacles

Which slender funds imposed. Life then was new,Outweighed, or put to flight, the set events

The senses easily pleased; And measured passions of the lustres, lights,stage, albeit

The carving and By Siddons trod in the fulness of her power.

Yet was the theatre my dear delight;

The very gilding, paint lamps and glare,painted scrolls,

And all the mean upholstery of the place,

Wanted not animation in my sight,animation, when the tide

Far less Of pleasure ebbed but to return as fast

With the living ever-shifting figures on of the stage,scene,

Solemn or gay gay: whether some beauteous dame

Advanced in radiance through a deep recess

Of thick-entangled thick entangled forest, like the moon

Opening the clouds; or sovereign king, announced

With flourishing trumpets, trumpet, came in full-blown state

Of the world's greatness, winding round with train

Of courtiers, banners, and a length of guards;

Or captive led in abject weeds, and jingling

His slender manacles; or romping girl

Bounced, leapt, and pawed the air; or mumbling sire,

A scarecrow scare-crow pattern of old age, patched age dressed up

Of In all the tatters of infirmity,infirmity

All loosely put together, hobbled inin,

Stumping upon a cane, cane with which he smitessmites,

From time to time time, the solid boards boards, and makes them

Prat Prate somewhat loudly of the whereabout

Of one so overloaded with his years.

But what of this? this! the laugh, the grin, grimace,

And all the The antics and buffoonery,striving to outstrip each other,

The Were all received, the least of them not lost, were all receivedlost,

With charitable pleasure. an unmeasured welcome. Through the night,

Between the show, and many-headed mass

Of the spectators, and each little several nook

That had Filled with its fray or brawl, how eagerly

And with what flashes, as it were, the mind

Turned this way, way that way—sportive and alert

And watchful, as a kitten when at play,

While winds are blowing round her, among grass

And rustling leaves. way! sportive and alert

And watchful, as a kitten when at play,

While winds are eddying round her, among straws

And rustling leaves. Enchanting age and sweet.—

Romantic almost, looked at through a space,

How small, of intervening years! For then,

Though surely no mean progress had been made

In meditations holy and sublime,

Yet something of a girlish childlike gloss

Of novelty survived for scenes like these—

Pleasure that had been handed down from times

When at a country playhouse, having caught

In summer through the fractured wall a glimpse

Of daylight, at the thought of where I was

I gladdened more than if I had beheld

Before me some bright cavern of romance,

Or than we do when on our beds we lie

At night, in warmth, when rains are beating hard.sweet!

Romantic almost, looked at through a space,

How small, of intervening years! For then,

Though surely no mean progress had been made

In meditations holy and sublime,

Yet something of a girlish child-like gloss

Of novelty survived for scenes like these;

Enjoyment haply handed down from times

When at a country-playhouse, some rude barn

Tricked out for that proud use, if I perchance

Caught, on a summer evening through a chink

In the old wall, an unexpected glimpse

Of daylight, the bare thought of where I was

Gladdened me more than if I had been led

Into a dazzling cavern of romance,

Crowded with Genii busy among works

Not to be looked at by the common sun.

The matter which that detains me us now will seemmay seem,

To many many, neither dignified enough

Nor arduous, and is doubtless in itself

Humble and low yet will not to be despisedscorned by them,

By those who Who, looking inward, have observed the curious propsties

By which That bind the perishable hours of life

Rest on each Each to the other, and the curious props

By which the world of memory and thought

Exists and is sustained. More lofty themes,

Such as at least do wear a prouder face,

Might here be spoken of; Solicit our regard; but when I think

Of these these, I feel the imaginative power

Languish within me. Even me; even then it slept,

When, wrought upon pressed by tragic sufferings,sufferings, the heart

The heart was full Was more than full; amid my sobs and tears

It slept, even in the pregnant season of my youth.

For though I was most passionately moved,moved

And yielded to the all changes of the scene

With most an obsequious feeling, promptness, yet all thisthe storm

Passed not beyond the suburbs of the mind.

If aught there were of real grandeur heremind;

'Twas only then Save when gross realities,realities of act and mien,

The incarnation of the spirits that movedmove

Amid In harmony amid the poet's beauteous world called forthPoet's world,

With that distinctness which a contrast gives,Rose to ideal grandeur, or, called forth

Or opposition By power of contrast, made me recogniserecognise,

As by at a glimpse, glance, the things which I had shapedshaped,

And yet not shaped, had seen and scarcely seen,

Had felt, When, having closed the mighty Shakspeare's page,

I mused, and thought of thought, and felt, in my solitude.

Pass we from entertainments entertainments, that are such

Professedly, to others titled higher,

Yet, in the estimate of youth at least,

More near akin to these those than names imply—

I mean the brawls of lawyers in their courts

Before the ermined judge, or that great stage

Where senators, tongue-favored men, perform,

Admired and envied. Oh, imply,.

I mean the brawls of lawyers in their courts

Before the ermined judge, or that great stage

Where senators, tongue-favoured men, perform,

Admired and envied. Oh! the beating heart,

When one among the prime of these rose up,

One One, of whose name from childhood we had heard

Familiarly, a household term, like thosethose,

The Bedfords, Glocesters, Salisburys Glosters, Salsburys, of old—

Which the fifth Harry talks of. Silence, hush,old,

Whom the fifth Harry talks of. Silence! hush!

This is no trifler, no short-flighted wit,

No stammerer of a minute, painfully

Delivered. No, Delivered, No! the orator Orator hath yoked

The hours, Hours, like young Aurora, to his car—

O presence of delight, can patience e'er

Grow weary of attending on a track

That kindles with such glory? Marvellous,

The enchantment spreads and rises all are rapt

Astonished like a hero in romance

He winds away his never-ending horn:

Words follow words, sense seems to follow sense—

What memory and what logic! till the strain

Transcendent, superhuman as it is,

Grows tedious even in a young man's ear.car:

These are grave follies; other public showsThrice welcome Presence! how can patience e'er

The capital city teems with Grow weary of attending on a kindtrack

More light and where but That kindles with such glory! All are charmed,

Astonished; like a hero in romance,

He winds away his never-ending horn;

Words follow words, sense seems to follow sense:

What memory and what logic! till the holy church?strain

There have I seen a comely bachelor,Transcendent, superhuman as it seemed,

fresh from Grows tedious even in a toilette young man's ear.

Genius of two hours, ascendBurke! forgive the pen seduced

By specious wonders, and too slow to tell

Of what the ingenuous, what bewildered men,

Beginning to mistrust their boastful guides,

And wise men, willing to grow wiser, caught,

Rapt auditors! from thy most eloquent tongue—

Now mute, for ever mute in the cold grave.

I see him,—old, but vigorous in age,—

Stand like an oak whose stag-horn branches start

Out of its leafy brow, the more to awe

The younger brethren of the grove. But some—

While he forewarns, denounces, launches forth,

Against all systems built on abstract rights,

Keen ridicule; the majesty proclaims

Of Institutes and Laws, hallowed by time;

Declares the vital power of social ties

Endeared by Custom; and with high disdain,

Exploding upstart Theory, insists

Upon the allegiance to which men are born—

Some say at once a froward multitude—

Murmur (for truth is hated, where not loved)

As the winds fret within the Aeolian cave,

Galled by their monarch's chain. The pulpit, with seraphic glance look up,times were big

With ominous change, which, night by night, provoked

Keen struggles, and black clouds of passion raised;

But memorable moments intervened,

When Wisdom, like the Goddess from Jove's brain,

Broke forth in a tone elaborately lowarmour of resplendent words,

Beginning, lead his voice through many Startling the Synod. Could a mazeyouth, and one

A minuet course, and, winding up his mouthIn ancient story versed, whose breast had heaved

From time to time into an orificeUnder the weight of classic eloquence,

Most delicate, a lurking eyelet, smallSit, see, and hear, unthankful, uninspired?

And only not invisible, againNor did the Pulpit's oratory fail

Open it out, diffusing To achieve its higher triumph. Not unfelt

Were its admonishments, nor lightly heard

The awful truths delivered thence a smileby tongues

Of rapt irradiation exquisite.Endowed with various power to search the soul;

Yet ostentation, domineering, oft

Poured forth harangues, how sadly out of place !—

There have I seen a comely bachelor,

Fresh from a toilette of two hours, ascend

His rostrum, with seraphic glance look up,

And, in a tone elaborately low

Beginning, lead his voice through many a maze

A minuet course; and, winding up his mouth,

From time to time, into an orifice

Most delicate, a lurking eyelet, small,

And only not invisible, again

Open it out, diffusing thence a smile

Of rapt irradiation, exquisite.

Meanwhile the Evangelists, Isaiah, Job,

Moses, and he who penned penned, the other dayday,

The Death of Abel, Shakespear, Doctor Young,Shakspeare, and the Bard

Whose genius spangled o'er a gloomy theme

With fancies thick as his inspiring stars,

And Ossian doubt not, (doubt not 'tis the naked truth—

Summoned from streamy Morven, each and all

Must in their turn lend ornament and flowers

To entwine the crook of eloquence with which

This pretty shepherd, pride of all the plains,

Leads up and down his captivated flock.truth)

Summoned from streamy Morven each and all

Would, in their turns, lend ornaments and flowers

To entwine the crook of eloquence that helped

This pretty Shepherd, pride of all the plains,

To rule and guide his captivated flock.

I glance but at a few conspicuous marks,

Leaving ten a thousand others that do each—

In hall or court, conventicle, or shop,

In public room or private, park or street—

With fondness reared on his own pedestal,

Look out for admiration. others, that, in hall,

Court, theatre, conventicle, or shop,

In public room or private, park or street,

Each fondly reared on his own pedestal,

Looked out for admiration. Folly, vice,

Extravagance in gesture, mien mien, and dress,

And all the strife of singularity—

Lies to the ear, and lies to every sense

Of these and of the living shapes they wear

There is no end. singularity,

Lies to the ear, and lies to every sense

Of these, and of the living shapes they wear,

There is no end. Such candidates for regard,

Although well pleased to be where they were found,

I did not hunt after or after, nor greatly prize,

Nor made unto myself a secret boast

Of reading them with quick and curious eye,eye;

But But, as a common produce produce, things that are

Today, tomorrow To-day, to-morrow will be be, took of them

Such willing note note, as, on some errand bound

Of pleasure or of love, some traveller might,

Among That asks not speed, a thousand other images,traveller might bestow

Of On sea-shells that bestud bestrew the sandy beach,

Or daisies swarming through the fields in of June.

But foolishness, foolishness and madness in parade,

Though most at home in this their dear domain,

Are scattered everywhere, no rarities,

Even to the rudest novice of the schools.Schools.

O friend, one feeling was there Me, rather, it employed, to note, and keep

In memory, those individual sights
Of courage, or integrity, or truth,
which belongedthere, set off by foil,

To Appeared more touching. One will I select—
A Father for he bore that sacred name;
this great city by exclusive right:moment had been stolen)

How often He held the child, and, bending over it,
in the valley, so
overflowing streetsstreets,
Have I gone with the crowd, and said