[72] through] in Friend, 1809. In the blue serene MS. (C).

[74] again] once more MS. (C).

[75] That as once more I raise my Head bow'd low Friend, No. XI, 1809 (see the _Errata_, No. XIII).

[83-4] Tell the blue sky MS. A.

[84] yon] the M. P., P. R., MS. A.

[85] praises] calls on M. P., P. R., MS. A.

THE GOOD, GREAT MAN[381:1]

'How seldom, friend! a good great man inherits Honour or wealth with all his worth and pains!

It sounds like stories from the land of spirits If any man obtain that which he merits Or any merit that which he obtains.' 5

REPLY TO THE ABOVE

For shame, dear friend, renounce this canting strain!

What would'st thou have a good great man obtain?

Place? t.i.tles? salary? a gilded chain?

Or throne of corses which his sword had slain? 10 Greatness and goodness are not _means_, but _ends_!

Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man? _three_ treasures, LOVE, and LIGHT, And CALM THOUGHTS, regular as infant's breath: And three firm friends, more sure than day and night, 15 HIMSELF, his MAKER, and the ANGEL DEATH!

1802.

FOOTNOTES:

[381:1] First published in the _Morning Post_ (as an 'Epigram', signed ?S??S?), September 23, 1802: reprinted in the _Poetical Register_ for 1802 (1803, p. 246): included in _The Friend_, No. XIX, December 28, 1809, and in _Literary Remains_, 1836, i. 53. First collected in 1844.

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Epigram M. P.: Epigrams P. R.: Complaint Lit. Rem., 1844, 1852: The Good, &c. 1893.

[6] Reply to the above M. P.: Reply The Friend, 1809: Reproof Lit. Rem., 1844.

INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH[381:2]

This Sycamore, oft musical with bees,-- Such tents the Patriarchs loved! O long unharmed May all its aged boughs o'er-canopy The small round basin, which this jutting stone Keeps pure from falling leaves! Long may the Spring, 5 Quietly as a sleeping infant's breath, Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse! Nor ever cease Yon tiny cone of sand its soundless dance,[382:1]

Which at the bottom, like a Fairy's Page, 10 As merry and no taller, dances still, Nor wrinkles the smooth surface of the Fount.

Here Twilight is and Coolness: here is moss, A soft seat, and a deep and ample shade.

Thou may'st toil far and find no second tree. 15 Drink, Pilgrim, here; Here rest! and if thy heart Be innocent, here too shalt thou refresh Thy spirit, listening to some gentle sound, Or pa.s.sing gale or hum of murmuring bees!

1802.

FOOTNOTES:

[381:2] First published in the _Morning Post_, September 24, 1802: reprinted in the _Poetical Register_ for 1802 (1803, p. 338): included in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1828, 1829, and 1834.

[382:1] Compare _Anima Poetae_, 1895, p. 17: 'The spring with the little tiny cone of loose sand ever rising and sinking to the bottom, but its surface without a wrinkle.'

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Inscription on a Jutting Stone, over a Spring M. P., P. R.

[3] aged] darksome M. P., P. R.

[5] Still may this spring M. P., P. R.

[7] waters] water P. R. to] for M. P., P. R.

[9] soundless] noiseless M. P., P. R.

[10] Which] That M. P., P. R.

[13] Here coolness dwell, and twilight M. P., P. R.

[16 foll.]

Here, stranger, drink! Here rest! And if thy heart Be innocent, here too may'st thou renew Thy spirits, listening to these gentle sounds, The pa.s.sing gale, or ever-murm'ring bees.

M. P., P. R.

AN ODE TO THE RAIN[382:2]

COMPOSED BEFORE DAYLIGHT, ON THE MORNING APPOINTED FOR THE DEPARTURE OF A VERY WORTHY, BUT NOT VERY PLEASANT VISITOR, WHOM IT WAS FEARED THE RAIN MIGHT DETAIN

I

I know it is dark; and though I have lain, Awake, as I guess, an hour or twain, I have not once opened the lids of my eyes, But I lie in the dark, as a blind man lies.

O Rain! that I lie listening to, 5 You're but a doleful sound at best: I owe you little thanks, 'tis true, For breaking thus my needful rest!