The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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STANZAS,
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
190
STANZAS,
WRITTEN AFTER A WINTER'S WALK IN THE COUNTRY.
Once more, old trees, I seek your solemn shades,
And pensive trample on your fallen leaves:
But, as I pierce your patriarchal glades,
Mythoughts are chastened, and remembrance grieves—
Grieves for the precious but departed hours
Which I have spent away from your embracing bowers.
And pensive trample on your fallen leaves:
But, as I pierce your patriarchal glades,
Mythoughts are chastened, and remembrance grieves—
Grieves for the precious but departed hours
Which I have spent away from your embracing bowers.
Sadness is sitting on your boughs, old trees,
Tossed by the blast, and beaten by the rain;
But summer sunlight and the summer breeze
Shall bring your sylvan majesty again;—
So may the renovating hand of Time
Give to my broken mind its former strength and prime!
Tossed by the blast, and beaten by the rain;
But summer sunlight and the summer breeze
Shall bring your sylvan majesty again;—
So may the renovating hand of Time
Give to my broken mind its former strength and prime!
Bright waters of the solitude, I come
To catch your silvery voices as they flow;
But Frost hath walked upon ye,—ye are dumb,
Sleeping beneath a coverlet of snow;
Your flowers are withered, and your waves at rest,
Your springs of gladness closed, like those within my breast.
To catch your silvery voices as they flow;
But Frost hath walked upon ye,—ye are dumb,
Sleeping beneath a coverlet of snow;
Your flowers are withered, and your waves at rest,
Your springs of gladness closed, like those within my breast.
But southern airs shall melt your icy sleep,
And send ye singing on your devious way,
And bright, fresh verdure to your sides shall creep,
And flowers bend listening to your liquid lay;—
May my lorn soul throw off its pall of gloom,
And rise, renewed in power, from Care's oppressive tomb!
And send ye singing on your devious way,
And bright, fresh verdure to your sides shall creep,
191
May my lorn soul throw off its pall of gloom,
And rise, renewed in power, from Care's oppressive tomb!
All shapes of Nature! ye are wondrous fair,
And ever soothing to my aching mind,
Although I see you cold, unsunned, and bare,
Shorn of your glories by the boreal wind;
Your very silence is a voice, a tone
Of purity and peace, which comes from God alone.
And ever soothing to my aching mind,
Although I see you cold, unsunned, and bare,
Shorn of your glories by the boreal wind;
Your very silence is a voice, a tone
Of purity and peace, which comes from God alone.
In the dark labyrinths of yonder town,
I feel, alas! that I have stayed too long,
Bringing my soul's proud aspirations down,
By unsubstantial revelry and song;
But now, kind Nature! like a wayward child,
Weary I turn to thee for pleasures undefiled.
I feel, alas! that I have stayed too long,
Bringing my soul's proud aspirations down,
By unsubstantial revelry and song;
But now, kind Nature! like a wayward child,
Weary I turn to thee for pleasures undefiled.
What is the voice of Flattery to me,
If it withdraw me from exalted things?
Would we admire the lark's melodious glee,
Yet dispossess him of his skyward wings?
Alas! we pluck the wild-flower with a smile,
Inhale its fragrant breath, but stain its leaves the while!
If it withdraw me from exalted things?
Would we admire the lark's melodious glee,
Yet dispossess him of his skyward wings?
Alas! we pluck the wild-flower with a smile,
Inhale its fragrant breath, but stain its leaves the while!
Let me resume my long-neglected lyre,
The purest solace of my earlier days;
And, if my soul retain that spark of fire
Which gave me poesy and won me praise,
Let me improve the “faculty divine,”
And snatch a wreath from Fame's imperishable shrine.
The purest solace of my earlier days;
And, if my soul retain that spark of fire
Which gave me poesy and won me praise,
Let me improve the “faculty divine,”
And snatch a wreath from Fame's imperishable shrine.
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |