The cottage which was named the EVENING

STAR

Is gone the ploughshare has been through the ground

On which it stood; great changes have been wrought

In all the neighbourhood:-yet the oak is left That grew beside their door; and the remains Of the unfinished sheep-fold may be seen Beside the boisterous brook of Green-head Ghyll,

1800.

POEMS ON THE NAMING

OF PLACES.

ADVERTISEMENT.

By persons resident in the country and attached to rural objects, many places will be found unnamed or of unknown names, where little incidents must have occurred, or feelings been experienced, which will have given to such places a private and peculiar interest. From a wish to give some sort of record to such incidents, or renew the gratification of such feelings, names have been given to places by the author and some of his friends, and the following poems written in consequence.

I.

"IT WAS AN APRIL MORNING: FRESH AND

CLEAR."

IT was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,

Ran with a young man's speed; and yet the voice
Of waters which the winter had supplied

Was softened down into a vernal tone.
The spirit of enjoyment and desire,

And hopes and wishes, from all living things
Went circling, like a multitude of sounds.
The budding groves appeared as if in haste
To spur the steps of June; as if their shades
Of various green were hindrances that stood
Between them and their object: yet, meanwhile,
There was such deep contentment in the air,
That every naked ash and tardy tree

Yet leafless, seemed as though the countenance
With which it looked on this delightful day
Were native to the summer.-Up the brook
I roamed in the confusion of my heart,
Alive to all things and forgetting all.
At length I to a sudden turning came
In this continuous glen, where down a rock
The Stream, so ardent in its course before,
Sent forth such sallies of glad sound, that all
Which I till then had heard, appeared the voice
Of common pleasure: beast and bird, the lamb,
The shepherd's dog, the linnet and the thrush
Vied with this waterfall, and made a song
Which, while I listened, seemed like the wild
growth

Or like some natural produce of the air,

That could not cease to be. Green leaves were here;

But 'twas the foliage of the rocks, the birch, The yew, the holly, and the bright green thorn, With hanging islands of resplendent furze : And on a summit, distant a short space,

By any who should look beyond the dell, A single mountain-cottage might be seen. I gazed and gazed, and to myself I said, "Our thoughts at least are ours; and this wild nook,

My EMMA, I will dedicate to thee."

Soon did the spot become my other home,
My dwelling, and my out-of-doors abode.
And, of the Shepherds who have seen me there,
To whom I sometimes in our idle talk
Have told this fancy, two or three, perhaps,
Years after we are gone and in our graves,
When they have cause to speak of this wild place,
May call it by the name of EMMA'S DELL.

1800.

II.

"THERE IS AN EMINENCE, OF THESE OUR HILLS."

THERE is an Eminence,—of these our hills
The last that parleys with the setting sun.
We can behold it from our orchard-seat;
And, when at evening we pursue our walk
Along the public way, this Peak so high
Above us, and so distant in its height,
Is visible; and often seems to send
Its own deep quiet to restore our hearts.

The meteors make of it a favourite haunt:
The star of Jove, so beautiful and large
In the mid heavens, is never half so fair
As when he shines above it. 'Tis in truth
The loneliest place we have among the clouds.
And She who dwells with me, whom I have loved
With such communion, that no place on earth
Can ever be a solitude to me,

Hath to this lonely summit given my name.

1800.

III.

"A NARROW GIRDLE OF ROUGH STONES AND CRAGS."

A NARROW girdle of rough stones and crags, A rude and natural causeway, interposed Between the water and a winding slope

Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern snore
Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy.

And there, myself and two beloved friends,
One calm September morning, ere the mist
Had altogether yielded to the sun,

Sauntered on this retired and difficult way.
Ill suits the road with one in haste, but we
Played with our time; and, as we strolled along,
It was our occupation to observe

Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore,