from the coves of Helvellyn, but the lake
under a luminous sky, was more brilliant than before.

After tea at Patterdale, set out again:--a fine evening; the seven stars
close to the mountain-top; all the stars seemed brighter than usual. The
steeps were reflected in Brotherswater, and, above the lake, appeared
like enormous black perpendicular walls. The Kirkstone torrents had been
swoln by the rains, and now filled the mountain pass with their roaring,
which added greatly to the solemnity of our walk. Behind us, when we had
climbed to a great height, we saw one light, very distinct, in the vale,
like a large red star--a solitary one in the gloomy region. The
cheerfulness of the scene was in the sky above us.

Reached home a little before midnight. The following verses (from the
Author's Miscellaneous Poems,) after what has just been read may be
acceptable to the reader, by way of conclusion to this little Volume.

ODE.

THE PASS OF KIRKSTONE.

I.

Within the mind strong fancies work,
A deep delight the bosom thrills,
Oft as I pass along the fork
Of these fraternal hills:
Where, save the rugged road, we find
No appanage of human kind;
Nor hint of man, if stone or rock
Seem not his handy-work to mock
By something cognizably shaped;
Mockery--or model roughly hewn,
And left as if by earthquake strewn,
Or from the Flood escaped:
Altars for Druid service fit;
(But where no fire was ever lit,
Unless the glow-worm to the skies
Thence offer nightly sacrifice;)
Wrinkled Egyptian monument;
Green moss-grown tower; or hoary tent;
Tents of a camp that never shall be raised;
On which four thousand years have gazed!

II.

Ye plough-shares sparkling on the slopes!
Ye snow-white lambs that trip
Imprisoned 'mid the formal props
Of restless ownership!
Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall
To feed the insatiate Prodigal!
Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and fields,
All that the fertile valley shields;
Wages of folly--baits of crime,--
Of life's uneasy game the stake,
Playthings that keep the eyes awake
Of drowsy, dotard Time;
O care! O guilt!--O vales and plains,
Here, 'mid his own unvexed domains,
A Genius dwells, that can subdue
At once all memory of You,--
Most potent when mists veil the sky,
Mists that distort and magnify;
While the hoarse rushes