To travel half a mile alone. - Good lady! Idon. Such tales of your dead father! - God is my judge, My conscience made me wish to be struck blind; Was meek, and patient, feeble, old and blind, But hear me. That will sustain me. Did you murder him? Your pupil is, you see, an apt proficient. (ironically.) [Drawing OSWALD towards the collage — stops Men are there, millions, Oswald, A deed that I would shrink from;- but to endure, Mar. No, not by stroke of arm. But learn the To feed remorse, to welcome every sting process: Proof after proof was pressed upon me; guilt Whose impious folds enwrapped even thee; and truth His words and tones and gestures, did but serve - and so he died!- Why may we speak these things, and do no more; Of penitential anguish, yea with tears. Maintained, for peaceful ends beyond our view. of hell! Osw. Ha! is it so!-That vagrant hag!-this comes Osw. [Aside. If I pass beneath a rock I die without dishonour. Famished, starved, A fool and coward blended to my wish! [Smiles scornfully and exultingly at MARMADUKE. Wal. "T is done! (stabs him.) Another of the band. The ruthless traitor! [He walks about distractedly. With that reproof I do resign a station Enter OSWALD. OSWALD. (to himself.) Strong to o'erturn, strong also to build up. [TO MARMADUKE. A rash deed! Brothers in arms! To weep that I am gone. Let us to Palestine; That may record my story: nor let words - This is a paltry field for enterprise. "T was nothing more than darkness deepening darkness, And weakness crowned with the impotence of death! Like the old Roman, on their own sword's point. A man by pain and thought compelled to live, NOTES ΤΟ POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH. Note 1, p. 25. Of the Poems in this class, "THE EVENING WALK" AN: "DESCRIPTIVE SKETCHES" were first published in They are reprinted with some unimportant alteme that were chiefly made very soon after their ta. It would have been easy to amend them, ay passages, both as to sentiment and expression, and I have not been altogether able to resist the tempbut attempts of this kind are made at the risk **ring those characteristic features which, after all, * be regarded as the principal recommendation of vende poems Note 2, p. 39. And, hovering, round it often did a raven fly.' From a short MS. poem read to me when an underrate, by my schoolfellow and friend, Charles Farish, sace deceased. The verses were by a brother of La man of promising genius, who died young. Note 3, p. 45. 'The Borderers. Tas Dramatic Piece, as noticed in its title-page, was posed in 1795-6. It lay nearly from that time till within the last two or three months unregarded among my papers, without being mentioned even to my most intimate friends. Having, however, impressions upon my mind which made me unwilling to destroy the MS., I determined to undertake the responsibility of publishing it during my own life, rather than impose upon my successors the task of deciding its fate. Accordingly it has been revised with some care; but, as it was at first written, and is now published, without any view to its exhibition upon the stage, not the slightest alteration has been made in the conduct of the story, or the composition of the characters; above all, in respect to the two leading persons of the drama, I felt no inducement to make any change. The study of human nature suggests this awful truth, that, as in the trials to which life subjects us, sin and crime are apt to start from their very opposite qualities, so are there no limits to the hardening of the heart, and the perversion of the understanding to which they may carry their slaves. During my long residence in France, while the revolution was rapidly advancing to its extreme of wickedness, I had frequent opportunities of being an eye-witness of this process, and it was while that knowledge was fresh upon my memory, that the Tragedy of "The Borderers" was composed.—1842. POEMS REFERRING TO THE PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD My heart leaps up when I behold So was it when my life began; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is Father of the Man; TO A BUTTERFLY. STAY near me do not take thy flight! Float near me: do not yet depart! Thou bringest, gay Creature as thou art: Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days, Upon the prey-with leaps and springs FORESIGHT, "THE CHARGE OF A CHILD TO HIS YOUNGER COMPANION. THAT is work of waste and ruin- • See Note. Pull the Primrose, Sister Anne! - Here are Daisies, take your fill; Make your bed, and make your bower: Fill your lap, and fill your bosom; Only spare the Strawberry-blossom! Primroses, the spring may love them God has given a kindlier power And for that promise spare the Flower! CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild; And Innocence hath privilege in her To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes; And feats of cunning; and the pretty round Of trespasses, affected to provoke Mock-chastisement and partnership in play. And, as a fagot sparkles on the hearth, Not less if unattended and alone Than when both young and old sit gathered round And take delight in its activity, Even so this happy creature of herself Is all-sufficient; solitude to her Is blithe society, who fills the air With gladness and involuntary songs. 73 And rings a sharp 'larum ; — but, if you should look, Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock; As soon as 't is daylight, to-morrow with me, Hark! over the roof he makes a pause, -But let him range round; he does us no harm, THE MOTHER'S RETURN. By the same. A MONTH, Sweet Little-ones, is passed O blessed tidings! thought of joy! The eldest heard with steady glee; Silent he stood; then laughed amain, And shouted, "Mother, come to me!" Louder and louder did he shout, With witless hope to bring her near; "Nay, patience! patience, little boy! Your tender mother cannot hear." I told of hills, and far-off towns, No strife disturbs his Sister's breast; Her joy is like an instinct, joy IIer Lrother now takes up the note, And echoes back his Sister's glee; They hug the Infant in my arms, As if to force his sympathy. Then, settling into fond discourse, We told o'er all that we had done,- We talked of change, of winter gone, Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray, Of birds that build their nests and sing, And "all since Mother went away!" |