nets, Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, Yarrow Revisited, and The Prelude. In 1813 Wordsworth removed his family to Rydal Mount, in the beloved Grasmere vale. Here in sight of those beautiful lakes and under the shadow of those old hills which have become inseparably associated with his name the poet spent the greater part of his long life. To this house, embowered with a profusion of ivy and roses and overlooking the silver-gleaming Windermere, came such famous visitors as Dr. Channing, Fields, Emerson and many other noted Americans, besides his neighbors, Coleridge, Southey, Charles Lamb and the famous Dr. Arnold of Rugby. In Fields' Yesterdays With Authors may be found a delightful picture of Wordsworth in his home. Shortly after coming to Rydal Mount his friend, Lord Lonsdale, secured for him the office of stamp distributor for the County of Westmoreland, which, while not requiring heavy duties, brought him the welcome salary of £500 annually. He held the office until well up in the seventies and then resigned in favor of his son, receiving a pension of £300 a year. After the death of his friend Southey, in 1843, he succeeded to the laureateship. He died seven years later, April 23, a few days after completing his eightieth year. His body was laid to rest in the little churchyard of Grasmere beside his dearly loved daughter, who had preceded him to the beauteous shore three years before. MEMORY SELECTIONS. "Why should we crave a hallow'd spot? A church in every grove that spreads "From the body of one guilty deed A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed." "Honor is the finest sense of justice which the human mind can frame." "We sail the sea of life; a calm one finds, "Small service is true service while it lasts; Protects the ling'ring dewdrop from the sun." Such stores as silent thought can bring, Familiar lines from Wordsworth: 2. What are fears but voices airy? 3. Soft is the music that would charm forever. 4. The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly. 5. Hope rules a land forever green. 6. Heaven lies about us in our infancy. 7. The stars are mansions built by nature's hand. INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. There was a time when meadow, grove and stream, To me did seem Appareled in celestial light The glory and the freshness of a dream. Turn whereso'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more. The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, And while the young lambs bound As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief; And I again am strong. The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep- Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy shepherd boy! Ye blessed creatures! I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My head hath its coronal, The fullness of your bliss, I feel, I feel it all. O evil day! if I were sullen While earth herself is adorning, This sweet May morning, And the children are culling, On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,- But there's a tree, of many one, A single field which I have looked upon.- Doth the same tale repeat. Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream? Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; And cometh from afar. Not in entire forgetfulnes, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory, do we come Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,— The youth who daily farther from the east And by the vision splendid Is on his way attended: At length the Man perceives it die away, The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction; not, indeed, For that which is most worthy to be blest, Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:— Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; 80 85 |