The peripatetic or, Sketches of the heart, of nature and society; In a series of politico-sentimental journals, in verse and prose, of the eccentric excursions of Sylvanus Theophrastus; Supposed to be written by himself [by John Thelwall] |
 | [I]. |
 | II. |
[And I who frequent, from my infant years] |
| III. |
 | The peripatetic |  |
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[And I who frequent, from my infant years]
And I who frequent, from my infant years,Led on by curious Fancy's daring hand,
With “harebreadth scapes and dangers imminent,”
Have toy'd familiar—Who, in pensive mood,
Oft by the rushing torrent's crumbling bourn
High tottering, or deep eddie overhung
By writhing oak, or willow's weeping spray,—
Fit couch! fit canopy for brooding thought
At Evening's solemn hour!—on rocking wall,
Fragment of antique abbey, hall, or wreck
Of ivy vested Castle,—or, sublime,
On the cloud propping cliff's tremendous brow,
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And wakes Imagination's wildest dream,
Till the daz'd sight turns fearful:—Even I
(Deserting from my friends and guide to trace
The long neglected avenue, and mount
The still more shatter'd steps, which even the foot
Of vent'rous Curiosity resigns
To bats and owls, who soar on buoyant wing
To their high cradled young) though from my youth,
Familiar with such scenes, shrink back appall'd,
As, near the summit, o'er loose rugged stones
I gain the narrow undefended way,
Where, as I stride, perchance, the smallest slip,
Or giddy wandering of the timid brain,
Might headlong plunge me many a fathom down,
A breathless, mangled spectacle, no more
In worth and dignity than the poor rooks
Whose fate (thrown timeless from the lofty nest)
Below I had deplored. Ah! wherefore, say,
Does Curiosity thus urge the step
Such scenes of trembling horror to explore?—
Why—but that hence the peace-illumin'd scene,
Where calm Security reclines, may smile
With softer pleasures, and enjoy the charm
Of dear vicissitude?—Why—but that Heaven,
Intent to variegate, with bounteous care,
The copious sources of mysterious joy,
For minds of a peculiar stamp reserves
Some daring pleasures—some peculiar zests
Of awe and high sublimity, that must,
Ere with their genuine glow they throb the breast,
Be snatch'd from giant Danger's lowering brow?
| The peripatetic | |