A single traveller-and there Thy shelter-and their mother's breast! 1805. POEMS OF THE IMAGINATION. I. THERE WAS A BOY. [WRITTEN in Germany. This is an extract from the poem on my cwn poetical education. This practice of making an instrument of their own fingers is known to most boys, though some are more skilful at it than others. William Raincock of Rayrigg, a fine spirited lad, took the lead of all my schoolfellows in this art.] THERE was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake; That they might answer him.-And they would shout Responsive to his call,-with quivering peals, Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received This boy was taken from his mates, and died Where he was born and bred: the church-yard hangs Upon a slope above the village-school; And, through that church-yard when my way has led On summer-evenings, I believe, that there A long half-hour together I have stood Mute-looking at the grave in whic he lies! II. TO THE CUCKOO. [COMPOSED in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.] O BLITHE New-comer! I have heard, O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, 1792. While I am lying on the grass From hill to hill it seems to pass, Though babbling only to the Vale, Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days Which made me look a thousand ways To seek thee did I often rove And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. O blessed Bird! the earth we pace An unsubstantial, faery place; VOL. II. H (COMPOSED on the road between Nether Stowey and Alfoxden, extempore. I distinctly recollect the very moment when I was struck, as described,"He looks up-the clouds are split" &c.] -THE sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, tower. At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Bent earthwards; he looks up-the clouds are split The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens. But they are silent;-still they roll along Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, |