Poems Chiefly Written in Retirement, By John Thelwall; With Memoirs of the Life of the Author. Second Edition |
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EFFUSION III.
On the Banks of the Wye. May 15, 1800.
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EFFUSION III. On the Banks of the Wye. May 15, 1800.
Along thy varying banks, sequester'd Wye,At eve, I wander mournfully—full oft
Thridding the tangled maze, or under shade
Of hoary oaks, that over-hang thy stream,
Courting congenial gloom: but not, as erst,
Or with the Painter's, or the Poet's glance,
Noting thy wild varieties. No more
Thy haunts romantic charm. No more mine eyes
(Dim with their griefs) from tint or varied line
Receive accustom'd joyance. Rocks, and falls,
And deep-worn pools reflective, and ye woods
Wash'd by the eddying stream, and you, ye hills
Of fearful height, in wild perspective heap'd,
Closing the sinuous valley, what to me
Are all your varied forms?—Ah! what the charm
Of beauteous or sublime?—the scenes that nurse
Romantic vision, or invite the skill
Of imitative effort?—Other forms
Possess my weeping fancy: other thoughts,
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In dim abstraction; and my troubled soul,
Here while I rove, is absent; nor remains
Ought but the wandering shade of him who erst
Trac'd your wild haunts delighted. To that spot
Where buds the white-thorn o'er the turfted grave
Turn my sad thoughts—there—there incessant dwell,
While, with paternal anguish, oft my lips
Breathe thy lov'd name, Maria!—Oh! Maria!
First born of Love! and fondling of my heart!
In thee my hopes are blighted—blighted all
The varied charms of Nature. All that once,
With grace or mingled harmony, could thrill
Sight or the list'ning sense, unheeded meets
The unconscious organ; save where memory marks
Some fond memorial—some remember'd scene
Of sweet endearment, where reclining erst
(Pensive, perchance, beside the rushing stream,
That moan'd responsive) I have heard the voice
Of my lost darling, lisping kindliest notes
Of soothing gentleness, that from my heart
Chac'd every woe; or where, perchance, her form,
Disporting gaily, with attractive charm,
Full in my view has bounded:—joy and health
Blending with graceful loveliness.—At sight
Of such mute record, in afflictive trance,
Groaning I pause: from my dim eyes, suffus'd,
Tears stream afresh; and, down the echoing Wye,
Woods, waves, and rocks repeat Maria's name.
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