{21}
I AM rooted in the wall |
Of buttress'd tower or ancient hall; |
Prison'd in an art-wrought bed. |
Cased in mortar, cramp'd with lead; |
Of a living stock alone |
Brother of the lifeless stone. |
Else unprized, I have my worth |
On the spot that gives me birth; |
Nature's vast and varied field |
Braver flowers than me will yield, |
Bold in form and rich in hue, |
Children of a purer dew; |
Smiling lips and winning eyes |
Meet for earthly paradise. {22} |
Choice are such,—and yet thou knowest |
Highest he whose lot is lowest. |
They, proud hearts, a home reject |
Framed by human architect; |
Humble-I can bear to dwell |
Near the pale recluse's cell, |
And I spread my crimson bloom, |
Mingled with the cloister's gloom. |
Life's gay gifts and honours rare, |
Flowers of favour! win and wear! |
Rose of beauty, be the queen |
In pleasure's ring and festive scene. |
Ivy, climb and cluster, where |
Lordly oaks vouchsafe a stair. |
Vaunt, fair Lily, stately dame, |
Pride of birth and pomp of name. |
Miser Crocus, starved with cold, |
Hide in earth thy timid gold. |
Travell'd Dahlia, freely boast |
Knowledge brought from foreign coast. |
Pleasure, wealth, birth, knowledge, power, |
These have each an emblem flower; |
So for me alone remains |
Lowly thought and cheerful pains. {23} |
Be it mine to set restraint |
On roving wish and selfish plaint; |
And for man's drear haunts to leave |
Dewy morn and balmy eve. |
Be it mine the barren stone |
To deck with green life not its own. |
So to soften and to grace |
Of human works the rugged face. |
Mine, the Unseen to display |
In the crowded public way, |
Where life's busy arts combine |
To shut out the Hand Divine. |
Ah! no more a scentless flower, |
By approving Heaven's high power, |
Suddenly my leaves exhale |
Fragrance of the Syrian gale. |
Ah! 'tis timely comfort given |
By the answering breath of Heaven! |
May it be! then well might I |
In College cloister live and die. |
Ulcombe.
October 2, 1827. |