Читать книгу The Works of William Cowper - William Cowper - Страница 136

Dear Anna—between friend and friend,

Prose answers every common end;

Serves, in a plain and homely way,

T' express th' occurrence of the day;

Our health, the weather, and the news;

What walks we take, what books we choose;

And all the floating thoughts we find

Upon the surface of the mind.

But when a poet takes the pen,

Far more alive than other men,

He feels a gentle tingling come

Down to his finger and his thumb,

Deriv'd from nature's noblest part,

The centre of a glowing heart!

And this is what the world, who knows

No flights above the pitch of prose,

His more sublime vagaries slighting,

Denominates an itch for writing.

No wonder I, who scribble rhyme,

To catch the triflers of the time,

And tell them truths divine and clear,

Which, couch'd in prose, they will not hear;

Who labour hard to allure, and draw,

The loiterers I never saw,

Should feel that itching and that tingling,

With all my purpose intermingling,

To your intrinsic merit true,

When called to address myself to you.

Mysterious are His ways, whose power

Brings forth that unexpected hour,

When minds, that never met before,

Shall meet, unite, and part no more:

It is th' allotment of the skies,

The hand of the Supremely Wise,

That guides and governs our affections,

And plans and orders our connexions;

Directs us in our distant road,

And marks the bounds of our abode.

Thus we were settled when you found us,

Peasants and children all around us,

Not dreaming of so dear a friend,

Deep in the abyss of Silver-End.[91] Thus Martha, ev'n against her will, Perch'd on the top of yonder hill; And you, though you must needs prefer The fairer scenes of sweet Sancerre,[92] Are come from distant Loire, to choose A cottage on the banks of Ouse. This page of Providence quite new, And now just opening to our view, Employs our present thoughts and pains To guess and spell what it contains: But day by day, and year by year, Will make the dark enigma clear; And furnish us perhaps at last, Like other scenes already past, With proof that we and our affairs Are part of a Jehovah's cares: For God unfolds, by slow degrees, The purport of his deep decrees; Sheds every hour a clearer light, In aid of our defective sight; And spreads at length before the soul, A beautiful and perfect whole, Which busy man's inventive brain Toils to anticipate in vain.

Say, Anna, had you never known

The beauties of a rose full blown,

Could you, tho' luminous your eye,

By looking on the bud descry,

Or guess with a prophetic power,

The future splendor of the flower

Just so, th' Omnipotent, who turns

The system of a world's concerns,

From mere minutiæ can educe

Events of most important use;

And bid a dawning sky display

The blaze of a meridian day

The works of man tend, one and all,

As needs they must, from great to small;

And vanity absorbs at length

The monuments of human strength.

But who can tell how vast the plan

Which this day's incident began?

Too small perhaps the slight occasion

For our dim-sighted observation;

It pass'd unnotic'd, as the bird

That cleaves the yielding air unheard,

And yet may prove, when understood,

An harbinger of endless good.

Not that I deem or mean to call

Friendship a blessing cheap or small;

But merely to remark that ours,

Like some of nature's sweetest flowers,

Rose from a seed of tiny size,

That seemed to promise no such prize:

A transient visit intervening,

And made almost without a meaning,

(Hardly the effect of inclination,

Much less of pleasing expectation!)

Produced a friendship, then begun,

That has cemented us in one;

And plac'd it in our power to prove,

By long fidelity and love,

That Solomon has wisely spoken;

"A three-fold cord is not soon broken."

In this interesting poem the author seems prophetically to anticipate the literary efforts that were to spring, in process of time, from a friendship so unexpected and so pleasing.

Genius of the most exquisite kind is sometimes, and perhaps generally, so modest and diffident as to require continual solicitation and encouragement from the voice of sympathy and friendship to lead it into permanent and successful exertion. Such was the genius of Cowper; and he therefore considered the cheerful and animating society of his new and accomplished friend as a blessing conferred on him by the signal favour of Providence.

We shall find frequent allusions to this lady in the progress of the following correspondence.