XXXVII.A LESSON FROM THE FERNS.
I
Dear Friend! I have a dread and glorious home,
Just where two inland rivers gently meet,
And the young Cherwell's haunted waters come,
Isis, their queen, to greet.
II
Far in the woodland heart of this green isle
To their own banks those streams are tinkling now,
Where many an ancient church and gorgeous pile
Throng in to hear them flow.
III
But I have yet another home as fair,
Though my sweet southern streams are far away,
And two wild mountain rills are meeting there
As musical as they.
IV
And are there not Church thoughts and feelings here,
Scattered, like flowers, on Loughrigg's sunny side,
And hopes to bless and memories to cheer
Where Rothay's waters glide?
V
Yes—by a hundred streamlets' wayward turns
My heart hath spent some hours of Sunday rest,
And watched those pastoral things the young green ferns,
Unbend from earth's cold breast.
VI
Oh! for thine own dear sake those things shall be
Marvellous types and symbols of my vow,
And with their lessons dread soft love for thee
Shall mingle fondly now.
VII
Often shall they in hours of pensive thought
Give up the secret charms that in them lie,
And all thy sacred image shall be brought
To fancy's yearning eye:
VIII
The light, the power, the unsettled fires that play
Among the sleepless glancings of thine eyes,
Thy thoughts and things of beauty, which betray
The heart from whence they rise.
IX
If in thy spring the gems of Heaven be set,
Like spotted fern-flowers in their first pale green,
Oh! shade them from the too bright world, nor let
Their fragile bloom be seen.
X
So shall the gifted suns of summer-tide
Their hidden power and loveliness unfold,
And he, that loves thee, with a lawful pride,
Shall mark their autumn gold!
