Poems By Frederick William Faber: Third edition |
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| LXXX. |
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| C. |
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| CIX. |
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| CXXVII.. |
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| CXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
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| CXXXIX. |
| CXL. |
| CXLI. |
| CXLII. |
| CXLIII. |
| CXLIV. | CXLIV.ENNERDALE. |
| CXLV. |
| CXLVI. |
| CXLVII. |
| CXLVIII. |
| CXLIX. |
| CL. |
| CLI. |
| CLII. |
| CLIII. |
| CLIV. |
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| CLIX. |
| CLX. |
| CLXI. |
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| CLXIII. |
| CLXIV. |
| CLXV. |
| CLXVI. |
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| CLXIX. |
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| CLXXVIII. |
 | Poems |  |
CXLIV.ENNERDALE.
I thought of Ennerdale as of a thing
Upon the confines of my memory.
There was a hazy gleam as o'er a sheet
Of sunny water cast, and mountain side,
And much ploughed land, and cleanly cottages,
A bubbling brook, the emptying of the lake,
An indistinct remembrance of being pleased
That there were hedgerows there instead of walls,
That it was noon, and that I swam for long
In the warm lake, and dressed upon a rock:—
And this is all of verdant Ennerdale
Which I can now recover from my mind;
The current of bright years hath washed it out.
Upon the confines of my memory.
There was a hazy gleam as o'er a sheet
Of sunny water cast, and mountain side,
And much ploughed land, and cleanly cottages,
A bubbling brook, the emptying of the lake,
An indistinct remembrance of being pleased
That there were hedgerows there instead of walls,
That it was noon, and that I swam for long
In the warm lake, and dressed upon a rock:—
And this is all of verdant Ennerdale
Which I can now recover from my mind;
The current of bright years hath washed it out.
Yet do I find the memory of it still
A thing which I can lean upon, a spot
Of greenness and fresh water in my soul.
And I do feel the very knowledge good
That there is such a place as Ennerdale,
A valley and a lake of such a kind,
As though I did possess it all myself
With daily eye and ear, because I know
It is possessed by simple dalesmen there.
A thing which I can lean upon, a spot
Of greenness and fresh water in my soul.
And I do feel the very knowledge good
That there is such a place as Ennerdale,
A valley and a lake of such a kind,
As though I did possess it all myself
With daily eye and ear, because I know
It is possessed by simple dalesmen there.
And I have many Ennerdales, am rich
In woods and fields the owners think are theirs.
I can dispark the trim enclosures first,
And, in the very wantonness of power,
Forthwith enclose the black, unfettered heath.
I pass along the road, and set my seal
On lawns, rough banks, wet coverts of wild flowers,
And I can pick out trees from forest lands,
For beauty or uncouthness singular,
As heriots; nay, the very brooks salute
Their master as they leap, tinkling to him,
Shrewd vassals! as their truest feudal lord,
With music such as they have never paid
Unto the self-called owner: when I walk
By night among the moistened woods they send
From every glen their dues of mossy smells,
And fragrance of the withered things which lie
Upon the woodland floor.
378
I can dispark the trim enclosures first,
And, in the very wantonness of power,
Forthwith enclose the black, unfettered heath.
I pass along the road, and set my seal
On lawns, rough banks, wet coverts of wild flowers,
And I can pick out trees from forest lands,
For beauty or uncouthness singular,
As heriots; nay, the very brooks salute
Their master as they leap, tinkling to him,
Shrewd vassals! as their truest feudal lord,
With music such as they have never paid
Unto the self-called owner: when I walk
By night among the moistened woods they send
From every glen their dues of mossy smells,
And fragrance of the withered things which lie
Upon the woodland floor.
I make a stir
Among the fields and flowery clods, as though
I would have something changed; I fold my arms,
And look around, and draw my breath; I gaze
Upon the fair estates and think how I
Shall will them to my children in sweet songs.
Early and late I'm out upon my lands,
And with pleased consequence survey the growth
Of my young trees, acquiring fresh each day,
Although the owners know not that they are
But tenants at my will. I have, in store,
The title-deeds of many a distant wood
And foreign chase. With feeling eye and ear
I have been gifted, and in right of them,
Like a great lord, I walk about the land,
Claiming and dispossessing at my will,—
The belted Earl of many Ennerdales!
Among the fields and flowery clods, as though
I would have something changed; I fold my arms,
And look around, and draw my breath; I gaze
Upon the fair estates and think how I
Shall will them to my children in sweet songs.
Early and late I'm out upon my lands,
And with pleased consequence survey the growth
Of my young trees, acquiring fresh each day,
Although the owners know not that they are
But tenants at my will. I have, in store,
The title-deeds of many a distant wood
And foreign chase. With feeling eye and ear
I have been gifted, and in right of them,
Like a great lord, I walk about the land,
Claiming and dispossessing at my will,—
The belted Earl of many Ennerdales!
| Poems | |