FOOTNOTES:
[967] 1835.
Lonsdale! it were unworthy of a Guest,
One chiefly well aware how much he owes
To thy regard, to speak in verse or prose
Of types and signs harmoniously imprest
On thy Abode, neglecting to attest
That in thy Mansion's Lord as well agree
Meekness and strength and Christian charity,
That filling, consecrates the human breast.
And if, as thy armorial bearings teach,
"The Magistracy indicates the Man,"
That test thy life triumphantly has stood;
MS.
[968] This sonnet was written immediately after certain trials, which took place at the Cumberland Assizes, when the Earl of Lonsdale, in consequence of repeated and long-continued attacks upon his character, through the local press, had thought it right to prosecute the conductors and proprietors of three several journals. A verdict of libel was given in one case; and, in the others, the prosecutions were withdrawn, upon the individuals retracting and disavowing the charges, expressing regret that they had been made, and promising to abstain from the like in future.—W. W. 1835.
XLVI
THE SOMNAMBULIST[969]
[This poem might be dedicated to my friends, Sir G. Beaumont and Mr. Rogers jointly. While we were making an excursion together in this part of the Lake District we heard that Mr. Glover, the artist, while lodging at Lyulph's Tower, had been disturbed by a loud shriek, and upon rising he had learnt that it had come from a young woman in the house who was in the habit of walking in her sleep. In that state she had gone down stairs, and, while attempting to open the outer door, either from some difficulty or the effect of the cold stone upon her feet, had uttered the cry which alarmed him. It seemed to us all that this might serve as a hint for a poem, and the story here told was constructed and soon after put into verse by me as it now stands.—I. F.]
List, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower[970][971]
At eve; how softly then
Doth Aira-force, that torrent hoarse,
Speak from the woody glen![972]
Fit music for a solemn vale! 5
And holier seems the ground[973]
To him who catches[974] on the gale
The spirit of a mournful tale,
Embodied in the sound.
Not far from that fair site whereon 10
The Pleasure-house is reared,
As story says, in antique days
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
Foil to a Jewel rich in light
There set, and guarded well; 15
Cage for a Bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Beyond her native dell.