Poems in Two Volumes, vol 1 | Page 4

that will be seen,
Whether we will see or no;
Others,
too, of lofty mien;
They have done as worldlings do,
Taken praise
that should be thine,
Little, humble Celandine!
Prophet of delight and mirth,
Scorn'd and slighted upon earth!

Herald of a mighty band,
Of a joyous train ensuing, 60 Singing at my
heart's command,
In the lanes my thoughts pursuing,
I will sing, as
doth behove,
Hymns in praise of what I love!
TO THE SAME FLOWER.
Pleasures newly found are sweet
When they lie about our feet:

February last my heart
First at sight of thee was glad;
All unheard
of as thou art,
Thou must needs, I think, have had,
Celandine! and
long ago,
Praise of which I nothing know.
I have not a doubt but he,
Whosoe'er the man might be, 10 Who the
first with pointed rays,
(Workman worthy to be sainted)
Set the
Sign-board in a blaze,
When the risen sun he painted,
Took the
fancy from a glance
At thy glittering countenance.
Soon as gentle breezes bring
News of winter's vanishing,
And the
children build their bowers,
Sticking 'kerchief-plots of mold 20 All
about with full-blown flowers,
Thick as sheep in shepherd's fold!

With the proudest Thou art there,
Mantling in the tiny square.
Often have I sigh'd to measure
By myself a lonely pleasure;
Sigh'd
to think, I read a book
Only read perhaps by me;
Yet I long could

overlook
Thy bright coronet and Thee, 30 And thy arch and wily
ways,
And thy store of other praise.
Blithe of heart, from week to week
Thou dost play at hide-and-seek;

While the patient Primrose sits
Like a Beggar in the cold,
Thou, a
Flower of wiser wits,
Slipp'st into thy shelter'd hold:
Bright as any
of the train
When ye all are out again. 40
Thou art not beyond the moon,
But a thing "beneath our shoon;"

Let, as old Magellen did,
Others roam about the sea;
Build who will
a pyramid;
Praise it is enough for me,
If there be but three or four

Who will love my little Flower.
CHARACTER of the HAPPY WARRIOR.
Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
Whom every Man in arms
should wish to be?
--It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought

Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought
Upon the plan that pleased
his childish thought:
Whose high endeavours are an inward light

That make the path before him always bright:
Who, with a natural
instinct to discern
What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;

Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, 10 But makes his moral
being his prime care;
Who, doom'd to go in company with Pain,

And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!
Turns his necessity to
glorious gain;
In face of these doth exercise a power
Which is our
human-nature's highest dower;
Controls them and subdues,
transmutes, bereaves
Of their bad influence, and their good receives;

By objects, which might force the soul to abate
Her feeling,
render'd more compassionate; 20 Is placable because occasions rise

So often that demand such sacrifice;
More skilful in self-knowledge,
even more pure,
As tempted more; more able to endure,
As more
expos'd to suffering and distress;
Thence, also, more alive to
tenderness.
Tis he whose law is reason; who depends

Upon that law
as on the best of friends;
Whence, in a state where men are tempted

still
To evil for a guard against worse ill, 30 And what in quality or
act is best
Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,
He fixes good on
good alone, and owes
To virtue every triumph that he knows:

--Who, if he rise to station of command,
Rises by open means; and
there will stand
On honourable terms, or else retire,
And in himself
possess his own desire;
Who comprehends his trust, and to the same

Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim; 40 And therefore does not
stoop, nor lie in wait
For wealth, or honors, or for worldly state;

Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall,
Like showers of
manna, if they come at all:
Whose powers shed round him in the
common strife,
Or mild concerns of ordinary life,
A constant
influence, a peculiar grace;
But who, if he be called upon to face

Some awful moment to which heaven has join'd
Great issues, good or
bad for human-kind, 50 Is happy as a Lover; and attired
With sudden
brightness like a Man inspired;
And through the heat of conflict keeps
the law
In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw;
Or if an
unexpected call succeed,
Come when it will, is equal to the need:

--He who, though thus endued as with a sense
And faculty for storm
and turbulence,
Is yet a Soul whose master bias leans
To home-felt
pleasures and to gentle scenes; 60 Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he
be,
Are at his heart; and such fidelity
It is his darling passion to
approve;
More brave for this, that he hath much to love:
'Tis, finally,
the Man, who, lifted high,
Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye,
Or
left unthought-of in obscurity,
Who, with a toward or untoward lot,

Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not,
Plays, in the many games
of life, that one 70 Where what he most doth value must be won;

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,
Nor thought of tender
happiness betray;
Who, not content that former worth stand fast,


Looks forward, persevering