Classic Poem

To The Muse

B ELOV'D companion of my early years!
My friend in solitude, my secret joy!
Dear were the soothing whispers of thy voice,
Dear were thy visits in my lonely hours,
When like a smiling angel, sent to bless,
Thy presence could beguile the sense of grief.
With thee, through many a devious wood's deep shade
And various featur'd vale, along the banks
Of rock-imprison'd rivers have I roam'd;
Oft when the welcome day of ease arriv'd,
Freed from confinement, and depressive toil,
With heart elated, as the exulting stag
When ranging o'er his mountain pastures free,
I've stray'd to meet thee in thy fav'rite haunts,
The heights which rise o'er Kendal's lovely vale,
'There, far from observation's curious eye,
Lightly I bounded o'er th' elastic turf,
Ascending ev'ry rocky hillock's brow,
My heart expanding as I look'd around,
Thus sweetly pass'd the summer's eve away,
Till sunk behind dark Langdale's distant pikes,
The setting sun threw his diverging rays
In bending arches o'er the azure plain.
In secret shades alone I woo'd thee then
By stealth, nor to the world durst tell my love;
But now, when in the face of day I've own'd
Our secret friendship, say wilt thou repay
With kindness my long faithful love to thee?
Our fate decreed, together we must try
The favour of the world, or bear its frowns.
How dear is to the anxious parent's heart
The reputation of a darling child!
Dear to the husband is the honour'd name
Of her he loves — and dear is thine to me.
And ah! how keenly will my bosom feel,
If with an eye severe and harsh reproofs,
A frowning world should scan thy num'rous faults,
And with unfeeling censures blot thy name.
Together then we'll seek some lonely spot,
Some willow-fringed stream, where thou shalt weave
Such chaplets as despairing lovers wear,
To bind our brows, and breathe in mournful strains
Thy funeral dirge — then silent sleep for ever,
While my warm heart shall grow as cold and chill
As flinty rocks encrusted o'er with ice.