Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/244



of Grassmere! tranquil, and shut out From all the strife that shakes a jarring world, How quietly thy village roofs are bower'd In the cool verdure, while thy graceful spire Guardeth the ashes of the noble dead, And, like a fix'd and solemn sentinel, Holm-Crag looks down on all. And thy pure lake, Spreading its waveless breast of crystal out 'Tween thee and us, pencil, nor lip of man May fitly show its loveliness. The soul Doth hoard it as a gem, and, fancy-led, Explore its curving shores, its lonely isle, That like an emerald clasp'd in crystal, sleeps.

Ho, stern Helvellyn! with thy savage cliffs And dark ravines, where the rash traveller's feet Too oft have wander'd far and ne'er return'd, Why dost thou press so close yon margin green, Like border-chieftain seeking for his bride Some cottage-maiden? Prince amid the hills, That each upon his feudal seat maintains Strict sovereignty, hast thou a tale of love For gentle Grassmere, that thou thus dost droop Thy plumed helmet o'er her, and peruse With such a searching gaze her mirror'd brow?