At the corner of Wood-Street, when day-light appears, There's a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has pass'd by the spot and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the bird. 'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, She looks, and her heart is in Heaven, but they fade, The mist and the river, the hill and the shade; The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, And the colours have all pass'd away from her eyes. Poor Outcast! return-to receive thee once more INSCRIPTION For the Spot where the HERMITAGE stood on St. Herbert's Island, Derwent-Water. If thou in the dear love of some one friend Hast been so happy, that thou know'st what thoughts Will, sometimes, in the happiness of love Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence This quiet spot. -St. Herbert hither came And here, for many seasons, from the world He dwelt in solitude. He living here, - A Fellow-labourer, whom the good Man lov'd While o'er the lake the cataract of Lodore Peal'd to his orisons, and when he pac'd INSCRIPTION For the House (an Outhouse) on the Island at Grasmere. Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen With the ideal grace. Yet as it is Do take it in good part; for he, the poor From the great city; never on the leaves The skeletons and pre-existing ghosts Of Beauties yet unborn, the rustic Box, Snug Cot, with Coach-house, Shed and Hermitage. It is a homely pile, yet to these walls |