XXXVII. STRANGE Visitation! at Jemima's lip Thus hadst thou pecked, wild Redbreast! Love might say, A half-blown rose had tempted thee to sip Its glistening dews; but hallowed is the clay Which the Muse warms; and I, whose head is grey, Am not unworthy of thy fellowship; Nor could I let one thought—one motion- slip For are we not all His, without whose care XXXVIII. WHEN Philoctetes in the Lemnian Isle Lay couched; upon that breathless Monument, On him, or on his fearful bow unbent, Some wild Bird oft might settle, and beguile The rigid features of a transient smile, Disperse the tear, or to the sigh give vent, Nor doubt that spiritual Creatures round us move, XXXIX. WHILE they, her Playmates once, light-hearted tread Rein the proud steed, or through the dance are led; Till oft her guardian Angel, to some Charge More urgent called, will stretch his wings at large, And Friends too rarely prop the languid head. Yet Genius is no feeble comforter: The presence even of a stuffed Owl for her Though he can neither stir a plume, nor shout, XL. TO THE CUCKOO. NOT the whole warbling grove in concert heard The Captive, 'mid damp vaults unsunned, unaired, That cry can reach; and to the sick man's room UNQUIET Childhood here by special grace |