HERE closed the Tenant of that lonely vale
His mournful narrative, commenced in pain,
In pain commenced, and ended without peace;
Yet temper'd, not unfrequently, with strains
Of native feeling, grateful to our minds;
And yielding surely some relief to his,

While we sate listening with compassion due.
A pause of silence follow'd; then, with voice
That did not falter though the heart was moved,
The Wanderer said:

"One adequate support
For the calamities of mortal life

Exists, one only; an assured belief
That the procession of our fate, howe'er
Sad or disturb'd, is order'd by a Being
Of infinite benevolence and power;
Whose everlasting purposes embrace
All accidents, converting them to good.-
The darts of anguish fix not where the seat
Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified
By acquiescence in the Will supreme
For time and for eternity; by faith,
Faith absolute in God, including hope,
And the defence that lies in boundless love
Of His perfections; with habitual dread
Of aught unworthily conceived, endured
Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone,
To the dishonour of His holy name.

Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world!
Sustain, Thou only canst, the sick of heart;
Restore their languid spirits, and recall
Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine!"
Then, as we issued from that covert nook,
He thus continued, lifting up his eyes

To heaven: "How beautiful this dome of sky;
And the vast hills, in fluctuation fix'd

At Thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul,

Human and rational, report of Thee

Even less than these? Be mute who will, who can,
Yet I will praise Thee with impassion'd voice:
My lips, that may forget Thee in the crowd,

Cannot forget Thee here, where Thou hast built,
For Thy own glory, in the wilderness!

Me didst Thou constitute a priest of Thine,
In such a temple as we now behold

Reared for Thy presence: therefore am I bound
To worship, here and everywhere, as one
Not doom'd to ignorance, though forced to tread,
From childhood up, the ways of poverty;
From unreflecting ignorance preserved,
And from debasement rescued. By Thy grace
The particle divine remain'd unquench'd;
And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil,
Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers,
From Paradise transplanted: wintry age
Impends; the frost will gather round my heart;
If the flowers wither, I am worse than dead!—
Come labour, when the worn-out frame requires
Perpetual sabbath; come disease and want,
And sad exclusion through decay of sense;
But leave me unabated trust in Thee,-
And let Thy favour, to the end of life,
Inspire me with ability to seek

Repose and hope among eternal things, -
Father of Heaven and Earth! and I am rich,
And will possess my portion in content.

And what are things eternal?- Powers depart,"
The grey-hair'd Wanderer steadfastly replied,
Answering the question which himself had ask'd,
"Possessions vanish, and opinions change,
And passions hold a fluctuating seat:
But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken,
And subject neither to eclipse nor wane,
Duty exists;-immutably survive,

For our support, the measures and the forms

Which an abstract intelligence supplies;

Whose kingdom is where time and space are not.

Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart

Do, with united urgency, require,

What more that may not perish? - Thou, dread source, Prime, self-existing cause and end of all

That in the scale of being fill their place;

Above our human region, or below,

Set and sustain'd; Thou, who didst wrap the cloud
Of infancy around us, that Thyself,

Therein, with our simplicity awhile

Mightst hold, on Earth, communion undisturb'd;

Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep,
Or from its death-like void, with punctual care,
And touch as gentle as the morning light,
Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense

And reason's steadfast rule, Thou, Thou alone
Art everlasting, and the blessèd Spirits
Which Thou includest, as the sea her waves:
For adoration Thou endur'st; endure
For consciousness the motions of Thy will;
For apprehension those transcendent truths
Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws
(Submission constituting strength and power)
Even to Thy Being's infinite majesty!
This universe shall pass away,

a work
Glorious, because the shadow of Thy might,
A step, or link, for intercourse with Thee.
Ah! if the time must come in which my feet
No more shall stray where meditation leads,
By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild,
Loved haunts like these; the unimprison'd Mind
May yet have scope to range among her own,
Her thoughts, her images, her high desires.
If the dear faculty of sight should fail,
Still it may be allow'd me to remember
What visionary powers of eye and soul
In youth were mine; when, station'd on the top
Of some huge hill, expectant, I beheld

The Sun rise up, from distant climes return'd
Darkness to chase, and sleep; and bring the day,
His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the deep
Sink, with a retinue of flaming clouds
Attended: then my spirit was entranced
With joy exalted to beatitude;

The measure of my soul was fill'd with bliss,
And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light,
With pomp, with glory, with magnificence!

Those fervent raptures are for ever flown;
And, since their date, my soul hath undergone
Change manifold, for better or for worse:
Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire
Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags
Through sinful choice, or dread necessity

On human nature from above imposed.

"Tis, by comparison, an easy task

Earth to despise; but, to converse with Heaven, — This is not easy:- to relinquish all

We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,
And stand in freedom loosen'd from this world,
I deem not arduous; but must needs confess
That 'tis a thing impossible to frame
Conceptions equal to the soul's desires;
And the most difficult of tasks to keep
Heights which the soul is competent to gain.-
Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his,

Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft,
Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke,
That with majestic energy from earth
Rises; but, having reach'd the thinner air,
Melts and dissolves, and is no longer seen.
From this infirmity of mortal kind

Sorrow proceeds, which else were not; at least,
If grief be something hallow'd and ordain'd,
If, in proportion, it be just and meet,

Yet, through this weakness of the general heart,
Is it enabled to maintain its hold

In that excess which conscience disapproves.
For who could sink and settle to that point
Of selfishness; so senseless who could be
As long and perseveringly to mourn
For any object of his love removed
From this unstable world, if he could fix
A satisfying view upon that state
Of pure, imperishable blessedness
Which reason promises, and Holy Writ
Ensures to all believers? Yet mistrust
Is of such incapacity, methinks,

No natural branch; despondency far less ;
And, least of all, is absolute despair. -

And, if there be whose tender frames have droop'd
Even to the dust; apparently, through weight
Of anguish unreliev'd, and lack of power
An agonizing sorrow to transmute;

Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld
When wanted most; a confidence impair'd
So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love
Of what is lost, and perish through regret.
O no! the innocent Sufferer often sees
Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs
To realise the vision, with intense

And over-constant yearning; there there lies Th' excess by which the balance is destroy'd.

Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh,
This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs,
Though inconceivably endow'd, too dim
For any passion of the soul that leads
To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths

Of time and change disdaining, takes its course
Along the line of limitless desires.

I, speaking now from such disorder free,
Nor rapt nor craving, but in settled peace,
I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore
Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake
From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love.
Hope, below this, consists not with belief
In mercy, carried infinite degrees

Beyond the tenderness of human hearts:
Hope, below this, consists not with belief
In perfect wisdom, guiding mightiest power,
That finds no limits but her own pure will.

Here, then, we rest; not fearing for our creed
The worst that human reasoning can achieve,
To unsettle or perplex it: yet with pain
Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach,
That, though immovably convinced, we want
Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith
As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength
Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas.
Alas! th' endowment of immortal power
Is match'd unequally with custom, time,
And domineering faculties of sense
In all; in most with superadded foes,
Idle temptations; open vanities,

Ephemeral offspring of th' unblushing world;
And, in the private regions of the mind,
Ill-govern'd passions, ranklings of despite,
Immoderate wishes, pining discontent,

Distress, and care. What then remains? - To seek
Those helps for his occasions ever near

Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renew'd

On the first motion of a holy thought;

Vigils of contemplation; praise; and prayer,-
A stream which, from the fountain of the heart
Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows
Without access of unexpected strength.
But, above all, the victory is most sure

7 The effect of custom in dulling or dimming the finer moral perceptions of the soul is set forth more fully in the Author's Ode on Immortality. See pages 246-8.