Glide gently, thus for ever glide, As now, fair river! come to me. How bright, how solemn, how serene! Collins's Ode on the death of Thomson, the last written, I believe, of the poems which were published during his life time. This Ode is also alluded to in the next stanza.X EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY. "WHY William, on that old grey stone, "Thus for the length of half a day, "Why William, sit you thus alone, "And dream your time away? "Where are your books? that light bequeath'd "To beings else forlorn and blind! "Up! Up! and drink the spirit breath'd "From dead men to their kind. "You look round on your mother earth, One morning, thus, by Esthwaite lake, When life was sweet, I knew not why, To me my good friend Matthew spake; And thus I made reply. "The eye it cannot chuse but see, 66 "Nor less I deem that there are powers, "Which of themselves our minds impress, "That we can feed this mind of ours, "In a wise passiveness. "Think you, mid all this mighty sum "Of things for ever speaking, That nothing of itself will come, "But we must still be seeking?.. "Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, "Conversing as I may, "I sit upon this old grey stone, "And dream my time away." THE TABLES TURNED; An Evening Scene on the same Subject. UP! Up! my friend, and clear your looks, Up! Up! my friend, and quit your books The sun above the mountain's head, Through all the long green fields has spread His first sweet evening yellow. Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife, Come, hear the woodland linnet; There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! Come forth into the light of things, She has a world of ready wealth, One impulse from a vernal wood Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the love which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things; -We murder to dissect. Enough of science and of art; Close up these barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives. |