"SHE DWELT AMONG THE UNtrodden WAYS." Published 1800. Composed 1799 SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise, A violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me! "I TRAVELled among UNKNOWN MEN.” Composed 1799. Published 1800. I TRAVELLED among unknown men, Nor, England! did I know till then 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! A second time; for still I seem Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire ; And she I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played; And thine is too the last green field That Lucy's eyes surveyed. "A SLUMBER DID MY SPIRIT SEAL." Composed 1799. A SLUMBER did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: Published 1800. She seemed a thing that could not feel No motion has she now, no force; Composed 1799. A POET'S EPITAPH. Published 1800. ART thou a Statesman in the van A Lawyer art thou?-draw not nigh! Art thou a Man of purple cheer? Or art thou one of gallant pride, Physician art thou? one, all eyes, Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece, A Moralist perchance appears; Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod: One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling Shut close the door; press down the latch; Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch But who is He, with modest looks, He is retired as noontide dew, The outward shows of sky and earth, Have come to him in solitude. In common things that round us lie That broods and sleeps on his own heart. But he is weak; both Man and Boy, The things which others understand. -Come hither in thy hour of strength; Composed 1799. MATTHEW. (14) IF Nature, for a favourite child, Published 1800. In thee hath tempered so her clay, Read o'er these lines; and then review In such diversity of hue Its history of two hundred years. -When through this little wreck of fame, Cipher and syllable! thine eye Has travelled down to Matthew's name, And, if a sleeping tear should wake, For Matthew a request I make Which for himself he had not made. Poor Matthew, all his frolics o'er, The sighs which Matthew heaved were sighs Yet, sometimes, when the secret cup -Thou soul of God's best earthly mould ! THE FOUNTAIN. A CONVERSATION. Composed 1799. Published 1800. WE talked with open heart, and tongue A pair of friends, though I was young, We lay beneath a spreading oak, Beside a mossy seat; And from the turf a fountain broke, And gurgled at our feet. "Now, Matthew!" said I, "let us match This water's pleasant tune With some old Border song, or catch, That suits a summer's noon; Or of the church clock and the chimes Sing here beneath the shade, That half-mad thing of witty rhymes |