'Tis that some thought of me, The spirit bound to each familiar place. I bid mine image dwell (Oh! break not thou the spell!) In the deep wood and by the fountain side; Thou must not, my beloved! Rove where we two have roved, Forgetting her that in her Spring-time died! NATIONAL LYRICS. THE THEMES OF SONG. “Of truth, of grandeur, beauty, love, and hope, WORDSWORTH WHERE shall the minstrel find a theme? Where'er, for freedom shed, Brave blood hath dyed some ancient stream, Amidst the mountains, red. Where'er a rock, a fount, a grove, Where'er a chieftain's crested brow Where'er a spire points up to heaven, (327) Where'er a blessed home hath been, Where'er, by some forsaken grave, Or where a yearning heart of old, With forms of more than earthly mould Hath peopled grot or glen. There may the bard's high themes be found We die, we pass away; But faith, love, pity-these are bound To earth without decay. The heart that burns, the cheek that glows, The tear from hidden springs, The thorn and glory of the rose These are undying things. Wave after wave of mighty stream To the deep sea hath gone: Yet not the less, like youth's bright dream, The exhaustless flood rolls on. |