Ah! quiet Dell! dear Cot, and Mount sublime!
I was constrain'd to quit you. Was it right,
While my unnumber'd brethren toil'd and bled, [45]
That I should dream away the entrusted hours
On rose-leaf beds, pampering the coward heart
With feelings all too delicate for use?
Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye
Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth: 50
And he that works me good with unmov'd face,
Does it but half: he chills me while he aids,
My benefactor, not my brother man!
Yet even this, this cold beneficence
Praise, praise it, O my Soul! oft as thou scann'st [55]
The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe!
Who sigh for Wretchedness, yet shun the Wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies!
I therefore go, and join head, heart, and hand, 60
Active and firm, to fight the bloodless fight
Of Science, Freedom, and the Truth in Christ.
Yet oft when after honourable toil
Bests the tir'd mind, and waking loves to dream,
My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot! [65]
Thy Jasmin and thy window-peeping Rose,
And Myrtles fearless of the mild sea-air.
And I shall sigh fond wishes—sweet Abode!
Ah!—had none greater! And that all had such!
It might be so—but the time is not yet. [70]
Speed it, O Father! Let thy Kingdom come!
1795.
FOOTNOTES:
[106:1] First published in the Monthly Magazine, October, 1796, vol. ii, p. 712: included in 1797, 1803, Sibylline Leaves, 1817, 1828, 1829, and 1834.
LINENOTES:
[Title]] Reflections on entering into active life. A Poem which affects not to be Poetry M. Mag. The motto was prefixed in 1797.
[[12-17]]
Bristowa's citizen—he paus'd and look'd
With a pleased sadness and gaz'd all around,
Then eye'd our cottage and gaz'd round again,
And said it was a blessed little place.