[_M. R._]

EFFUSION, p. 96. (1797.)

(Second Draft)

My pensive SARA! thy soft Cheek reclin'd Thus on my arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) And watch the Clouds that, late were rich with light, Slow-sadd'ning round, and mark the Star of eve Serenely brilliant (such should WISDOM be!) Shine opposite. How exquisite the Scents Snatch'd from yon Bean-field! And the world so hush'd! The stilly murmur of the far-off Sea Tells us of Silence! And that simplest Lute Plac'd lengthways in the clasping casement, hark! How by the desultory Breeze caress'd (Like some coy Maid half-yielding to her Lover) It pours such sweet Upbraidings, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong. And now it's strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious Surges sink and rise In aëry voyage, Music such as erst Round rosy bowers (so Legendaries tell) To sleeping Maids came floating witchingly By wand'ring West winds stoln from Faery land; Where on some magic Hybla MELODIES Round many a newborn honey-dropping Flower Footless and wild, like Birds of Paradise, Nor pause nor perch, warbling on untir'd wing.

And thus, my Love! as on the midway Slope Of yonder Hill I stretch my limbs at noon And tranquil muse upon Tranquillity. Full many a Thought uncall'd and undetain'd And many idle flitting Phantasies Traverse my indolent and passive Mind As wild, as various, as the random Gales That swell or flutter on this subject Lute. And what if All of animated Life Be but as Instruments diversly fram'd That tremble into thought, while thro' them breathes One infinite and intellectual Breeze, And all in diff'rent Heights so aptly hung, That Murmurs indistinct and Bursts sublime, Shrill Discords and most soothing Melodies, Harmonious from Creation's vast concent-- Thus God would be the universal Soul, Mechaniz'd matter as th' organic harps And each one's Tunes be that, which each calls I.

But thy more serious Look a mild Reproof Darts, O beloved Woman, and thy words Pious and calm check these unhallow'd Thoughts, These Shapings of the unregen'rate Soul, Bubbles, that glitter as they rise and break On vain Philosophy's aye-babbling Spring: Thou biddest me walk humbly with my God! Meek Daughter in the family of Christ. Wisely thou sayest, and holy are thy words! Nor may I unblam'd or speak or think of Him, Th' INCOMPREHENSIBLE! save when with Awe I praise him, and with Faith that inly feels, Who with his saving Mercies healèd me, A sinful and most miserable man Wilder'd and dark, and gave me to possess PEACE and this COT, and THEE, my best-belov'd!