And mountains, and of all that we behold DAFFODILS. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills A host, of golden daffodils; Continuous as the stars that shine The waves beside them danced; but they În such a jocund company: I gazed, and gazed, but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY. "Why, William, on that old gray stone, "Where are your books? that light bequeath'd "You look round on your Mother Earth, One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, "The eye-it cannot choose but see; "Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness. "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum "Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, I sit upon this old gray stone, THE TABLES TURNED. Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks; The sun, above the mountain's head, Through all the long green fields has spread Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife: But hark, how blithe the throstle sings! She has a world of ready wealth, One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: Enough of Science and of Art; Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart 169.-JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. BERNARD OF CLUNY. The world is very evil; the times are waxing late; The Judge who comes in mercy, the Judge who comes in might, 'Mid power that knows no limit, and wisdom free from bound, There rests a peace untroubled, peace holy and profound. O happy, holy portion, refection for the blest, True vision of true beauty, sweet cure for all distrest! Thou hast no shore, fair ocean! thou hast no time, bright day! For mortals and for sinners, a mansion with the blest! And he whom now we trust in shall then be seen and known, The morning shall awaken, the shadows flee away, For thee, O dear, dear country, mine eyes their vigils keep; And medicine in sickness, and love, and life, and rest. O one, O only mansion! O Paradise of joy! Where tears are ever banished, and smiles have no alloy; Thine ageless walls are bounded with amethyst unpriced; O sweet and blesséd country, the home of God's elect! 170.-REPLY TO GRAFTON. LORD THURLOW. A. D. 1145. I am amazed at the attack which the noble duke has made upon me. Yes, my lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech. The noble duke cannot look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer who owes his seat in this House to his successful exertions in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honorable to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an accident? To all these noble lords the language of the noble duke is as applicable, and as insulting, as it is to myself. But I do not fear to meet it single and alone. No one venerates the peerage more than I do; but, my lords, I must say that the peerage solicited me,-not I the peerage. Nay, more,-I can say, and will say, that, as a peer of parlia ment, as Speaker of this right honorable House, as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of his Majesty's conscience, as Lord High Chancellor of England,-nay, even in that character alone in which the noble duke would think it an affront to be considered, but which character none can deny me,—as a MAN, I am, at this moment, as respectable,-I beg leave to add, as much respected,-as the proudest peer I now look down upon! 171.-REPLY TO MR. CORRY. H. GRATTAN. Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done? He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. There was scarce a word that he uttered that was not a violation of the privileges of the House. But I did not call him to order,-why? because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without being unparliamentary. But before I sit down I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think myself justifiable in treating with silent contempt anything which might fall from that honorable member; but there are times, when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in the magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the honorable gentleman labored under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our characters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man. The right honorable gentleman has called me "an unimpeached traitor." I ask why not "traitor," unqualified by any epithet? I will tell him: it was because he durst not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not courage to give the blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy counsellor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be chancellor of the exchequer. But I say, he is one who has abused the privilege of Parliament and the freedom of debate, by uttering language which, if spoken out of the House, I should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his |