IN ALL OBEDIENCE, AS COMMANDED.
'Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.'
Look from thy flowery lattice ;-let me gaze On that rich brow, that eye like morning bright, That even sorrow wears a face of smiles
When thou art near ;-forth from thy lattice look. My gentle - : and that golden day Recall, when first by Deben's seaward shores, Following the curving of his banks, we stray'd; Hand link'd in hand-sweet pilgrimage—and fill'd With phantasies as sweet-o'er ferny dell We trode, and fields by reeking coulter torn, And many a brook-fed mead, and islet green With waving samphire-there the silver wave, Obedient to the ocean's breath, just crept To kiss the dewy margent:-so we pass'd
Pinnace, and barge, and fisher's skiff, whence flung The thin net sway'd along, and to the shore The boatman's carol sounded-farther now, Following the inland waters, and our hearts Surrendering to the genial influences Of sun, and airs by soft Favonius breath'd; Say, how we linger'd, pleasure gathering up As children chase the insects o'er the plain, From every sight and sound.-The bee's wild hum, His wing in some rude foliature encag'd, The beetle with its scaly habergeon Fretting the margin of the pool—the path Of the grey lizard to its sinuous home; Or watch'd the seamew's silvery pennons shine Above the sparkling waters; or far off
Following their flight,—the birds of nobler plume— High-wing'd, and journeying to their distant home.
So on the river's crisped marge we stood, Gazing the broad expanse, that like a lake Lay folded in the mountain's soft embrace, Fit haunt of nymph, or naiad.—Onward now (What could we less, sweet nature's self our guide), Up that dear path to vulgar eyes unseen, With its grey shrine, and rural chapel crown'd, Threading the oaken coppice, soon we gain'd A little sylvan lawn, that 'mid the embrace Of close-embowering trees, its tender green Nurs'd with perennial dews :-the silent glade To us, methought, was dedicate, and our's
It seem'd, alone its beauty :-to and fro, The wild-rose shadows by the Summer's breath Were moving;-from the gnarled boughs above The ring-dove pour'd its amorous plaint, and there No more on man dependent, 'mid the leaves, The red-breast built its Summer nest secure.
Fit spot,' I cried, 'for Grecian bard to feign Panisk, or fawn, amid the noonday heat Reposing, or a band of paranymphs, Such is the poet's high record, at eve Discoursing in their soft Helladian tongue. Or here, perchance, the silver-footed fays, Tripping to moonlight minstrelsy, might start The aged shepherd hastening down the glen.'- Thou in this sylvan bower, 'mid tufted moss And wrinkled fern, with colour'd weeds commix'd, And glossy leaves of velvet texture, laid, With hazel, and with hawthorn blossoms hung, Like to a Tuscan lady in her bloom
Of richest beauty, as by Arno's vale, Or where his shaded waters Arbia spreads, Stepping from forth her princely halls, to taste The breeze, entranc'd I've seen-thou, there re- Or as some gentle Dryad, who at eve
Just stealing from her timid covert, hears Young Zephyr breathe his vow.-The day was
The morning's roseate glow-The golden blaze Meridian, and the eve's purpureal sky.
Oh day! as innocent, as fair!—and thou, Fair as the day, and young and innocent, Sweet maiden; thou not seldom to thine eye (As oft again on these retiring sands
Thy evening footsteps shall be seen) wilt call 'Mid blushing smiles, and sunny tears, that speak Of fond remembrance, all that memory holds Of this sweet pilgrimage :-the winding shore, The soft enamell'd margin-the long sweep Of those majestic woods, which o'er the wave Flung deep their emerald shadows,-the far hills; The grey rock, with its blue springs trickling down Through thick concealing foliage;—and the vale, The long withdrawing vale, where Deben winds His solitary wave from shore to shore,
To where the fountains of the Ocean lie.
BENHALL, 20th September, 1835
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