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Poems

By Edward Quillinan. With a Memoir by William Johnston

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THE BIRCH OF SILVER-HOW.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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THE BIRCH OF SILVER-HOW.

WRITTEN FOR MR. BARBER OF GRASMERE.

I'll doubt no more that Fairies dwell
At least in one enchanted place,
Though wisdom long since rang the knell
Of Oberon and all his race:
They haunt Kehlbarrow's woody brow,
Amid the rocks of Silver-How!
And if you climb beyond the wood
You'll there a Fairy chapel see;
And there, in spite of wind and flood,
Beside it find a goodly tree:
Of upright stem and flexile bough,
The Fairy-tree of Silver-How.

18

A night of tempest shook the hills
That circle Grasmere's lovely lake;
To torrents swoln, the flashing rills
Went chafing down o'er stone and brake:
When morning peep'd o'er Fairfield's brow
Low lay the birch of Silver-How!
The red-breast that was wont to sing
His matins on its topmost spray,
Now wheel'd aloof his fickle wing
To chaunt elsewhere his roundelay:
To thriving trees his court he paid
So well he knew the poet's trade.
The Sun went down, but when again
He rose and look'd on Silver-How,
The red-breast trill'd his morning strain
Upon his old accustom'd bough:
For lo! the tree that prostrate lay,
Erectly stood in face of day.
It rose, untouch'd by human hands,
And now a living wonder stands
On that enchanted Fell!

19

Wise sceptic, you deny in vain
To wild Kehlbarrow's fairy fane
A priestess and a spell:
Go profit by my elfin creed,
And lift the fallen in their need
As secretly and well!
Rydal Mount, October 27, 1829.