And Ardennes * waves above them her green Ardennes, the forest leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, 50 Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, grow or wood which lies between Brussels and Waterloo, and extends over portions of France and Rhenish Prussia. Inanimate, life. without And burning with high hope, shall moulder* cold Moulder, to crumble and low ! 55 Last noon beheld them full of lusty life; Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay; The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife; into dust. The morn the marshalling* in arms; the day Marshalling, arrang- 60 The thunder-clouds close o'er it-which when rent,* The earth is covered thick with other clay, * ing in order for battle. 5 10 LINES ADDRESSED TO HIS MOTHER'S PICTURE. W. Cowper. OH that those lips * had language! Life hath Those lips. The poet passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. see, The same that oft in childhood solaced * me; was looking at a picture of his mother which had been sent to him in 1790, ten Chase, drive away. "Grieve not, my child; chase * all thy fears fulness, understand away!" The meek intelligence* of those dear eyes ing. Art, the art of painting. Immortalise, lasting for ever, here means the lasting property To quench it!) here shines on me still the of the picture. same. Faithful remembrancer* of one so dear! O welcome guest, though unexpected here! Tyrannicclaim, when the hour of a person's death arrives, Time, like a tyrant, will take no excuse. Remembrancer, some. thing to remind us. Heard no more, our name is forgotten. Bauble, a gay showy article, not having much real value. Pastoral house, the Rectory of Berkhampstead, where Cowper was born; a clergyman's dwelling. Short-lived possession, the poet and his parents lived there but a short time. Effaced, blotted or worn out. I will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept* were her own; My mother! when I learned that thou wast * Say, wast thou conscious* of the tears I shed? cern, * Oft gave me promise of thy quick return: * * 15 20 25 30 35 40 But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. 45 more: * Children not thine have trod my nursery-floor; own. * our Short-lived possession!* but the record fair That memory keeps of all thy kindness there 55 Themes, the subjects Still outlives many a storm that has effaced A thousand other themes * less deeply traced. a person thinks of or writes about. * Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe* and warmly laid; 60 Thy morning bounties* ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionery plum ; * The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed: * Safe, safely. Bounties, gifts, pre sents. Confectionery plum, Knew no fall, was same, a waterfall, making a All this, and more endearing still than all, 65 Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall,* Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks Cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes: All this, still legible* in Memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, 70 Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers* may; Perhaps a frail * memorial,* but sincereNot scorned in heaven, though little noticed here. Could Time, his flight reversed, restore the 75 When, playing with thy vesture's tissued 80 flowers,* * The violet, the pink, and jessamine,* I prick'd them into paper with a pin (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Could those few pleasant hours again appear, them here? I would not trust my heart; the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no; what here we call our life is such, 85 So little to be loved, and thou so much, 90 * * That I should ill requite* thee to constrain Shoots into port* at some well-favoured isle, There sits quiescent* on the floods, that show or fancy. tinct. Frail, not strong, small. Memorial, something to assist the memory. Tissued flowers, flowers woven in the dress. Violet and jessamine, small flowers which of their sweet smell. are prized on account Dear delight, great joy. Ill requite, badly repay. To constrain to compel, to force back. Unbound spirit, free from the earthly body. Albion, the name by which England was known in olden times, and so called from its white chalk cliffs. Shoots into port, glides quickly into the harbour. Airs impregnated, the air was scented with a fragrance as of in cense. Streamers gay, brightlooking flags or ban streaming of ners 95 Around her, fanning light her streamers gay-* flying in the wind. Thwarting, hinder- Pretensions, claims. Wonted, usual. meditation. So thou, with sails how swift, hast reached the shore "Where tempests never beat nor billows roar;" Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and com- And day by day some current's thwarting * force Sets me more distant from a prosp'rous course. 105 he! That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. And now, farewell! Time unrevoked has run Violating, injuring. Mimic show, an imitation show, here meaning the picture. 120 EVANGELINE.-Longfellow. In that delightful land which is washed by the * Guarding in sylvan* shades the name of Penn* Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream There from the troubled sea had Evangeline * Finding among the children of Penn a home Patience and abnegation of self,* and devotion to others,* This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but Abnegation of self, the Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of Quakers, and spent our Saviour. 10 Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequenting Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated her time in works of love and charity. Loud, through the gusty* streets, that all was Gusty, windy, stormy well in the city, High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper.* 15 Then it came to pass that a pestilence * fell on the city. Taper, a small wax candle. Pestilence, a plague, a catching, deadly Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister sickness of Mercy. Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets deserted and silent, Wending her quiet way, she entered the door Wending, going. of the almshouse. And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sickness. 20 Many a languid * head, upraised as Evangeline Languid, weak, ex entered, * Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she Suddenly, as if arrested* by fear or a feeling Still she stood, with her colourless lips apart, while a shudder 25 Ran through her frame, and forgotten, the And from her eyes and cheeks the light and Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such hausted. Her presence, &c., she cheered and com forted the sick in their greatest misery. Arrested, stopped. On the pallet before her was stretched the Pallet, a bed of straw. form of an old man. |