THE FOREGOING SUBJECT RESUMED

Composed 1834.—Published 1835.

One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”—Ed.

Among a grave fraternity of Monks,

For One, but surely not for One alone,

Triumphs, in that great work, the Painter’s skill,

Humbling the body, to exalt the soul;

Yet representing, amid wreck and wrong 5

And dissolution and decay, the warm

And breathing life of flesh, as if already

Clothed with impassive majesty, and graced

With no mean earnest of a heritage

Assigned to it in future worlds. Thou, too, 10

With thy memorial flower, meek Portraiture!

From whose serene companionship I passed

Pursued by thoughts that haunt me still; thou also—

Though but a simple object, into light

Called forth by those affections that endear 15

The private hearth; though keeping thy sole seat

In singleness, and little tried by time,

Creation, as it were, of yesterday—

With a congenial function art endued

For each and all of us, together joined 20

In course of nature under a low roof

By charities and duties that proceed

Out of the bosom of a wiser vow.

To a like salutary sense of awe

Or sacred wonder, growing with the power 25

Of meditation that attempts to weigh,

In faithful scales, things and their opposites,

Can thy enduring quiet gently raise

A household small and sensitive,—whose love,

Dependent as in part its blessings are 30

Upon frail ties dissolving or dissolved

On earth, will be revived, we trust, in heaven.[7]

[7] In the class entitled “Musings,” in Mr. Southey’s Minor Poems, is one upon his own miniature picture, taken in childhood, and another upon a landscape painted by Gaspar Poussin. It is possible that every word of the above verses, though similar in subject, might have been written had the author been unacquainted with those beautiful effusions of poetic sentiment. But, for his own satisfaction, he must be allowed thus publicly to acknowledge the pleasure those two poems of his Friend have given him, and the grateful influence they have upon his mind as often as he reads them, or thinks of them.—W.W. 1835.

TO A CHILD
Written in her Album[8]

Composed 1834.—Published 1835

[This quatrain was extempore on observing this image, as I had often done, on the lawn of Rydal Mount. It was first written down in the Album of my God-daughter, Rotha Quillinan.—I.F.]

In 1837 this was one of the “Inscriptions.” In 1845 it was transferred to the “Miscellaneous Poems.”—Ed.

Small service is true service while it lasts:

Of humblest Friends, bright Creature! scorn not one![9]

The Daisy, by the shadow that it casts,

Protects the lingering dew-drop from the Sun.[10]

[8] The original title (1835) was “Written in an Album.” In 1837 it was “Written in the Album of a Child.” In 1845 the title was reconstructed as above.

[9] 1845.

Of Friends, however humble, scorn not one:

1835.

[10] Compare the lines, written in 1845, beginning—

So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive.

Ed.

LINES
Written in the Album of the Countess of Lonsdale,[11] Nov. 5, 1834

Composed 1834.—Published 1835

[This is a faithful picture of that amiable Lady, as she then was. The youthfulness of figure and demeanour and habits, which she retained in almost unprecedented degree, departed a very few years after, and she died without violent disease by gradual decay before she reached the period of old age.—I.F.]

This was placed, in 1845, among the “Miscellaneous Poems.”—Ed.

Lady! a Pen (perhaps with thy regard,

Among the Favoured, favoured not the least)

Left, ’mid the Records of this Book inscribed,

Deliberate traces, registers of thought

And feeling, suited to the place and time 5

That gave them birth:—months passed, and still this hand,

That had not been too timid to imprint

Words which the virtues of thy Lord inspired,

Was yet not bold enough to write of Thee.

And why that scrupulous reserve? In sooth 10

The blameless cause lay in the Theme itself.

Flowers are there many that delight to strive

With the sharp wind, and seem to court the shower,

Yet are by nature careless of the sun

Whether he shine on them or not; and some, 15

Where’er he moves along the unclouded sky,

Turn a broad front full on his flattering beams:

Others do rather from their notice shrink,

Loving the dewy shade,—a humble band,

Modest and sweet, a progeny of earth, 20

Congenial with thy mind and character,

High-born Augusta!

Witness Towers, and Groves!

And Thou, wild Stream, that giv’st the honoured name[12]

Of Lowther to this ancient Line, bear witness[13]

From thy most secret haunts; and ye Parterres, 25

Which She is pleased and proud to call her own,

Witness how oft upon my noble Friend

Mute offerings, tribute from an inward sense

Of admiration and respectful love,

Have waited—till the affections could no more 30

Endure that silence, and broke out in song,

Snatches of music taken up and dropt

Like those self-solacing, those under, notes

Trilled by the redbreast, when autumnal leaves

Are thin upon the bough. Mine, only mine, 35

The pleasure was, and no one heard the praise,

Checked, in the moment of its issue, checked

And reprehended, by a fancied blush

From the pure qualities that called it forth.

Thus Virtue lives debarred from Virtue’s meed; 40

Thus, Lady, is retiredness a veil

That, while it only spreads a softening charm

O’er features looked at by discerning eyes,

Hides half their beauty from the common gaze;

And thus,[14] even on the exposed and breezy hill 45

Of lofty station, female goodness walks,

When side by side with lunar gentleness,

As in a cloister. Yet the grateful Poor

(Such the immunities of low estate,

Plain Nature’s enviable privilege, 50

Her sacred recompense for many wants)

Open their hearts before Thee, pouring out

All that they think and feel, with tears of joy;

And benedictions not unheard in heaven:

And friend in the ear of friend, where speech is free 55

To follow truth, is eloquent as they.

Then let the Book receive in these prompt lines

A just memorial; and thine eyes consent

To read that they, who mark thy course, behold

A life declining with the golden light 60

Of summer, in the season of sere leaves;[15]

See cheerfulness undamped by stealing Time;

See studied kindness flow with easy stream,

Illustrated with inborn courtesy;

And an habitual disregard of self 65

Balanced by vigilance for others’ weal.

And shall the Verse not tell of lighter gifts

With these ennobling attributes conjoined

And blended, in peculiar harmony,

By Youth’s surviving spirit? What agile grace! 70

A nymph-like liberty, in nymph-like form,

Beheld with wonder; whether floor or path

Thou tread; or sweep—borne on the managed steed—[16]

Fleet as the shadows, over down or field,

Driven by strong winds at play among the clouds. 75

Yet one word more—one farewell word—a wish

Which came, but it has passed into a prayer—

That, as thy sun in brightness is declining,

So—at an hour yet distant for their sakes

Whose tender love, here faltering on the way 80

Of a diviner love, will be forgiven—

So may it set in peace, to rise again

For everlasting glory won by faith.

[11] 1837.

Countess of ——

1835.

[12] The Lowther stream passes the Castle, and joins the Eamont below Brougham Hall, near Penrith.—Ed.

[13] 1837.

Towers, and stately Groves,

Bear witness for me; thou, too, Mountain-stream!

1835.

[14]

When hence …

C.

[15] Compare September, 1819, and Upon the Same Occasion, vol. vi. pp. 201, 202, especially the lines in the latter—

Me, conscious that my leaf is sere,

And yellow on the bough, etc.

Ed.

[16] 1837.

Thou tread, or on the managed steed art borne,

1835.