VI.

With staff in hand across the cleft

The Challenger began his march;

And now, all eyes and feet, hath gained

The middle of the arch.

When list! he hears a piteous moan-
Again! his heart within him dies-
His pulse is stopped, his breath is lost,
He totters, pale as any ghost,
And, looking down, he spies
A Lamb, that in the pool is pent
Within that black and frightful Rent,

VII.

The Lamb had slipped into the stream,

And safe without a bruise or wound

The Cataract had borne him down

Into the gulph profound.

His Dam had seen him when he fell,

She saw him down the torrent borne;

And, while with all a mother's love

She from the lofty rocks above

Sent forth a cry forlorn,

The Lamb, still swimming round and round, Made answer to that plaintive sound,

VIII.

When he had learnt what thing it was,
That sent this rueful cry; I ween,
The Boy recovered heart, and told
The sight which he had seen.
Both gladly now deferred their task;
Nor was there wanting other aid-
A Poet, one who loves the brooks
Far better than the sages' books,
By chance had thither strayed;
And there the helpless Lamb he found
By those huge rocks encompassed round.

IX.

He drew it gently from the pool,

And brought it forth into the light:

The Shepherds met him with his Charge,

An unexpected sight!

Into their arms the Lamb they took,

Said they, " He's neither maimed nor scarred."

Then up the steep ascent they hied,

And placed him at his Mother's side;
And gently did the Bard

Those idle Shepherd-boys upbraid,
And bade them better mind their trade.

XIV.

Το H. C.,

SIX YEARS OLD.

O THOU! whose fancies from afar are brought;
Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel,
And fittest to unutterable thought

The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol;
Thou faery Voyager! that dost float
In such clear water, that thy Boat

May rather seem

To brood on air than on an earthly stream;
Suspended in a stream as clear as sky,

Where earth and heaven do make one imagery;
O blessed Vision! happy Child!

That art so exquisitely wild,

I think of thee with many fears

For what may be thy lot in future years.

I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest,

Lord of thy house and hospitality;

And Grief, uneasy Lover! never rest

But when she sate within the touch of thee.

Oh! too industrious folly!

Oh! vain and causeless melancholy!

Nature will either end thee quite;

Or, lengthening out thy season of delight,

Preserve for thee, by individual right,

A young Lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks.

What hast Thou to do with sorrow,

Or the injuries of to-morrow?

Thou art a Dew-drop, which the morn brings forth,

Not framed to undergo unkindly shocks;

Or to be trailed along the soiling earth;
A gem that glitters while it lives,

And no forewarning gives;

But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife
Slips in a moment out of life.

XV.

INFLUENCE OF NATURAL OBJECTS

In calling forth and strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and early Youth;

From an unpublished Poem.

(This Extract is reprinted from "THE FRIEND.")

• WISDOM and Spirit of the Universe!

Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!

And giv'st to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion! not in vain,
By day or star-light, thus from my first dawn
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul;
Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man,-
But with high objects, with enduring things,
With life and nature; purifying thus