[Page 61]

MONODY, WRITTEN AT MATLOCK.

1 Matlock! amid thy hoary-hanging views,
2 Thy glens that smile sequestered, and thy nooks
3 Which yon forsaken crag all dark o'erlooks;
4 Once more I court the long neglected Muse,
5 As erst when by the mossy brink and falls
6 Of solitary Wainsbeck, or the side
7 Of Clysdale's cliffs, where first her voice she tried,
8 I strayed a pensive boy. Since then, the thralls
9 That wait life's upland road have chilled her breast,[Page 62]
10 And much, as much they might, her wing depressed.
11 Wan Indolence, resigned, her deadening hand
12 Laid on her heart, and Fancy her cold wand
13 Dropped at the frown of fortune; yet once more
14 I call her, and once more her converse sweet,
15 'Mid the still limits of this wild retreat,
16 I woo; — if yet delightful as of yore
17 My heart she may revisit, nor deny
18 The soothing aid of some sweet melody!
19 I hail the rugged scene that bursts around;
20 I mark the wreathed roots, the saplings gray,
21 That bend o'er the dark Derwent's wandering way;
22 I mark its stream with peace-persuading sound,
23 That steals beneath the fading foliage pale,
24 Or, at the foot of frowning crags upreared,
25 Complains like one forsaken and unheard.
26 To me, it seems to tell the pensive tale
27 Of spring-time, and the summer days all flown;
28 And while sad autumn's voice ev'n now I hear
29 Along the umbrage of the high-wood moan,
30 At intervals, whose shivering leaves fall sere;
31 Whilst o'er the group of pendant groves I view
32 The slowly-spreading tints of pining hue,
33 I think of poor Humanity's brief day,
34 How fast its blossoms fade, its summers speed away!
35 When first young Hope, a golden-tressed boy,
39 I have ventured in this place to make Hope a boy.
36 Most musical his early madrigal
37 Sings to the whispering waters as they fall,
38 Breathing fresh airs of fragrance and of joy,
39 The wild woods gently wave, the morning sheds
40 Her rising radiance on the mountain heads,
41 Strewed with green isles appears old ocean's reign,
42 And seen at distance rays of resting light[Page 63]
43 Silver the farthest promontory's height:
44 Then hushed is the long murmur of the main,
45 Whilst silent o'er the slowly-crisping tides,
46 Bound to some beaming spot, the bark of pleasure glides.
47 Alas! the scenes that smile in light arrayed
48 But catch the sense, and then in darkness fade.
49 We, poor adventurers, of peace bereft,
50 Look back on the green hills that late we left,
51 Or turn, with beating breast and anxious eye,
52 To some faint hope that glimmering meets our sight
53 (Like the lone watch-tower in the storm of night),
54 Then on the dismal waste are driv'n despairing by!
55 Meantime, amid the landscape cold and mute,
56 Hope, sweet enchanter, sighing drops his lute:
57 So sad decay and mortal change succeeds,
58 And o'er the silent scene Time, like a giant, speeds!
59 Yet the bleak cliffs that lift their heads so high
60 (Around whose beetling crags, with ceaseless coil,
61 And still-returning flight, the ravens toil)
62 Heed not the changeful seasons as they fly,
63 Nor spring, nor autumn: they their hoary brow
64 Uprear, and ages past, as in this now,
65 The same deep trenches unsubdued have worn,
66 The same majestic frown, and looks of lofty scorn.
67 So Fortitude, a mailed warrior old,
68 Appears; he lifts his scar-intrenched crest;
69 The tempest gathers round his dauntless breast;
70 He hears far off the storm of havoc rolled;
71 The feeble fall around: their sound is past;
72 Their sun is set, their place no more is known;
73 Like the wan leaves before the winter's blast
74 They perish: — He, unshaken and alone
75 Remains, his brow a sterner shade assumes,
76 By age ennobled, whilst the hurricane,[Page 64]
77 That raves resistless o'er the ravaged plain,
78 But shakes unfelt his helmet's quivering plume.
79 And so yon sovereign of the scene
40 Matlock High Tor.
I mark
80 Above the woods rear his majestic head,
81 That soon all shattered at his feet shall shed
82 Their short-lived beauties: he the winter dark
83 Regardless, and the wasteful time that flies,
84 Rejoicing in his lonely might, defies.
85 Thee, wandering in the deep and craggy dell,
86 Sequestered stream, with other thoughts I view:
87 Thou dost in solitude thy course pursue,
88 As thou hadst bid life's busy scenes farewell,
89 Yet making still such music as might cheer
90 The weary passenger that journeys near.
91 Such are the songs of Peace in Virtue's shade;
92 Unheard of Folly, or the vacant train
93 That pipe and dance upon the noontide plain,
94 Till in the dust together they are laid!
95 But not unheard of Him, who sits sublime
96 Above the clouds of this tempestuous clime,
97 Its stir and strife; to whom more grateful rise
98 The humble incense, and the still small voice
99 Of those that on their pensive way rejoice,
100 Than shouts of thousands echoing to the skies;
101 Than songs of conquest pealing round the car
102 Of hard Ambition, or the Fiend of War,
103 Sated with slaughter. Nor may I, sweet stream,
104 From thy wild banks and still retreats depart,
105 Where now I meditate my casual theme,
106 Without some mild improvement on my heart
107 Poured sad, yet pleasing! so may I forget
108 The crosses and the cares that sometimes fret[Page 65]
109 Life's smoothest channel, and each wish prevent
110 That mars the silent current of content!
111 In such a spot, amidst these rugged views,
112 The pensive poet in his drooping age
113 Might wish to place his reed-roofed hermitage;
114 Where much on life's vain shadows he might muse.
115 If fortune smiled not on his early way,
116 If he were doomed to mourn a faithless friend,
117 Here he might rest, and when his hairs were gray,
118 Behold in peace the parting day descend.
119 If a hard world his errors scanned severe,
120 When late the earth received his mouldering clay,
121 Perhaps some loved companion, wandering near,
122 Plucking the gray moss from the stone, might say:
123 Him I remember, in our careless days,
124 Vacant and glad, till many a loss severe
125 First hung his placid eyelids with a tear;
126 Yet on such visions ardent would he gaze,
127 As the Muse loved, that oft would smile and die,
128 Like the faint bow that leaves the weeping sky;
129 His heart unguarded, yet it proudly beat
130 Against hard wrong, or coward cold deceit; —
131 Nor passed he e'er without a sigh the cell
132 Where wretchedness and her pale children dwell.
133 He never wished to win the world's cold ear,
134 Nor, prized by those he loved, its blame could fear;
135 Its praise he left to those who, at their will,
136 The ingenious strain of torturing art could trill!
137 Content, as random fancies might inspire,
138 If his weak reed, at times, or plaintive lyre,
139 He touched with desultory hand, and drew
140 Some softened tones, to Nature not untrue.
141 The leaves, O Derwent! on thy bosom still
142 Oft with the gust now fall — the season pale[Page 66]
143 Hath smote with hand unseen the silent vale,
144 And slowly steals the verdure from the hill;
145 So the fair scene departs, yet wears a while
146 The lingering traces of its beauteous smile:
147 But we who by thy margin stray, or climb
148 The cliff's aërial height, or join the song
149 Of hope and gladness amidst yonder throng,
150 Losing the brief and fleeting hours of time,
151 Reck not how age, even thus, with icy hand,
152 Hangs o'er us; — how, as with a wizard's wand,
153 Youth blooming like the spring, and roseate mirth,
154 To slow and sere consumption he shall change,
155 And with invisible mutation strange,
156 Withered and wasted send them to the earth;
157 Whilst hushed, and by the mace of ruin rent,
158 Sinks the forsaken hall of merriment!
159 Bright bursts the sun upon the shaggy scene!
160 The aged rocks their glittering summits gray
161 Hang beautiful amid the beams of day;
162 And all the woods, with slowly-fading green,
163 Yet smiling wave: — severer thoughts, away!
164 The night is distant, and the lovely day
165 Looks on us yet; — the sound of mirthful cheer
166 From yonder dome comes pleasant to mine ear.
167 From rock to rock reverberated swells,
168 Hark, — the glad music of the village bells!
169 On the crag's naked point the heifer lows,
170 And wide below the brightening landscape glows!
171 Though brief the time and short our course to run,
172 Derwent! amid the scenes that deck thy side,
173 Ere yet the parting paths of life divide,
174 Let us rejoice, seeking what may be won
175 From the laborious day, or fortune's frown:
176 Here may we, ere the sun of life goes down,[Page 67]
177 A while regardless of the morrow, dwell;
178 Then to our destined roads, and speed us well!

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Title (in Source Edition): MONODY, WRITTEN AT MATLOCK.
Author: William Lisle Bowles
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Genres: monody

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Bowles, William Lisle, 1762-1850. The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles, Vol. I. With Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes by George Gilfillan. Edinburgh: James Nichol, 9 North Bank Street..., 1855, pp. 61-67.  (Page images digitized from a copy held at the University of California Libraries.)

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