Thou wander'st the wide world about, Meek, yielding to the occasion's call, In peace fulfilling. 1803 XV THE SMALL CELANDINE THERE is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain ; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun himself, 'tis out again! When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm, In close self-shelter, like a Thing at rest. But lately, one rough day, this Flower I passed I stopped, and said with inly-muttered voice, "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold : This neither is its courage nor its choice, But its necessity in being old. The sunshine may not cheer it, nor the dew; Stiff in its members, withered, changed of hue." To be a Prodigal's Favourite—then, worse truth, O Man, that from thy fair and shining youth Age might but take the things Youth needed not! XVI THIS Lawn, a carpet all alive With shadows flung from leaves—to strive In dance, amid a press Of sunshine, an apt emblem yields Of Worldlings revelling in the fields Less quick the stir when tide and breeze Forbid a moment's rest; The medley less when boreal Lights To feats of arms addrest ! 1804 Yet, spite of all this eager strife, 1829 XVII So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive, Would that the little Flowers were born to live, That to this mountain-daisy's self were known And what if hence a bold desire should mount So might he ken how by his sovereign aid And were the Sister-power that shines by night Fond fancies! wheresoe'er shall turn thine eye All vain desires, all lawless wishes quelled, XVIII TO A SKY-LARK ETHEREAL minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky! Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Type of the wise who soar, but never roam ; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home! XIX THE GREEN LINNET BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed In this sequestered nook how sweet And birds and flowers once more to greet, One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest : Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, A Life, a Presence like the Air, Thyself thy own enjoyment. |