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Lines addressed to
Joanna Hutchinson
from Gwerndovenant x June 1826
Now, at the close of fervid June
Upon this breathless hazy noon,
I seek the deepest, darkest shade
Within the covert of that glade,
Which you and I first named our own
When primroses were fully blown,
Oaks just were budding; and the grove
Rang with the gladdest songs of love.
Then did the Leader of the Band,
A gallant Thrush, maintain his stand,
Unshrouded from the eye of day
Upon yon beech’s top most spray.
Within the self-same lustylofty Tree
A Thrush sings now—perchance ‘tis He
The lusty, joyous, gallant Bird,
Which on that April morn I heard.
Yet Oh, how different that voice
That ‘bade the very hills rejoice!
x pronounced Wondurvan
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—Through languid air, through leafy boughs
It falls, and can no echo rouze.
But in the workings of my heart
Doth memory act a busy part;
That jocund April Morn lives there,
Its cheering sounds,sounds its hues so fair,
With all its cheering sounds & with hues so fair,
Why mixes with remembrances blithe
Which nothing but the restless scythe
Of Death can utterly destroy
A heaviness, a dull alloy?
Ah Friend! thy heart can answer why,
—Even then I heaved a bitter sigh:
No word of sorrow didst thou speak:
But tears stole down thy tremulous cheek.
The wished-for hour at length was come;
And thou hadst housed me in thy home
On fair Werndunvan’s billowy hill,
Hadst led me to its crystal Rill,
And led me through the dingle deep,
Up to the highest grassy Steep,
The sheep-walk, where the snow-white lambs
Sported beside their quiet dams.
But Thou wert destined to remove
From all From all these objects of thy love,
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In thy declining days to roam
In this thy later day to roam
Far off, and seek another home.
Now thou art gone— belike ‘tis best—
And I remain, a passing guest,
Yet, for thy sake, beloved Friend,
When from this spot my way shall must tend,
Mournfully shall I say must farewell
To this deep, verdant, woody Dell,
And to that neighbouring sunny Cot
Where thou so oft hast bless’d thy lot,
Where lonely nature led thy soul.
To brood on Heaven— where no controul
⟨x steadfast?⟩ Of fashion check’d thy simplesteadfastxaims
To satisfy whatever claims
A tender conscience might suggest
Of faithful cares, leading to pious rest.
⟨Query? Correction of 4th stanza in next poem⟩
And quivering shadow sunny light
Vary the emerald green
