Читать книгу Tales and Legends of the English Lakes - Wilson Armistead - Страница 6

"Blest be that hand Divine, which gently laid

My heart at rest beneath this humble shade;

The world's a stately bark, on dangerous seas,

With pleasure seen, but boarded at our peril;

Here on a single plank, thrown safe on shore,

I hear the tumult of the distant throng,

As that of seas remote or dying storms;

And meditate on scenes more silent still,

Pursue my theme, and fight the fear of death.

Here, like a shepherd gazing from his hut,

Touching his reed or leaning on his staff,

Eager ambition's fiery chase I see;

I see the circling hunt of noisy men

Burst law's enclosures, leap the mounds of right,

Pursuing and pursued, each other's prey;

As wolves for rapine, as the fox for wiles,

Till Death, that mighty hunter, earths them all."

Young's Excursion.

Wordsworth has the following beautiful lines on the Hermit of Derwentwater:—

"If thou, in the dear love of some one friend,

Hast been so happy that thou know'st what thoughts

Will sometimes, in the happiness of love,

Make the heart sink, then wilt thou reverence

This quiet spot; and, stranger, not unmoved

Wilt thou behold this shapeless heap of stones,

The desolate ruins of St. Herbert's cell.

There stood his threshold; there was spread the roof

That sheltered him, a self-secluded man,

After long exercise in social cares,

And offices humane, intent to adore

The Deity with undistracted mind,

And meditate on everlasting things

In utter solitude. But he had left

A fellow-labourer, whom the good man loved

As his own soul. And when, with eye upraised

To heaven, he knelt before the crucifix,

While o'er the lake the cataract of Ladore

Pealed to his orison, and when he paced

Along the beach of this small isle, and thought

Of his companion, he would pray that both

(Now that their earthly duties were fulfilled)

Might die in the same moment. Nor in vain

So prayed he! As our chroniclers report,

Though here the hermit numbered his last hours,

Far from St. Cuthbert, his beloved friend,

Those holy men died in the self-same day."