[Page 15v]
Irregular Stanzas
Holiday at Gwerndovennant – May 1826
Holiday at Gwerndovennant – May 1826
“You’re here for one long vernal day;
We’ll give it all to social play
Though forty years have roll’d away
Since we were young as you.
1
Then welcome to our spacious Hall,x
Tom, Bessy, Mary; welcome all!
Though removed from busy men,
Yea, lonesome as the fox’s den
‘Tis a place for joyance fit
For frolic games, and inborn wit.
“Twas Nature built this Hall of ours
She shaped the banks, she framed the bowers
That close it all around
From her we hold our precious right
And here, She through live-long day & night
She rules with mildest sway
She guards this ha
Is guardian of this happy ground.
2
Our carpet is her verdant sod;
A richer one was never trod
In princes’ proud saloon,
Purple & gold, & spotless white,
And quivering shade & sunny light ⟨(quivering shadow⟩
⟨sunny light⟩
Blend with the emerald green
xa green plot within a Dell near the Cottage
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3
She opened for the mountain brook
A gently winding pebbly way
Into this placis secret nook;
- Its bell-like tinkling — list, you hear
‘Tis never loud, yet yet it is always clear ⟨yet it is always⟩
As linnet’s sing in May
4
AndAndwe have other music here;
A thousand songsters, through the year,
Dwell in these happy groves;
And in this season of their loves
They join their voices with the doves’
To raise a perfect harmony.”
5
Thus spake I, while with sober pace
We slipp’d into that chosen place;
Then from the centre of our Hall
The Young Ones gazed around;
—And like a flock of vigorous lambs,
Leaving That leave their steady slow-paced dams
To gambol o’er the mead,
That innocent fraternal Troop,
(Ere while a quiet, listening groupe)
Off-starting— Girl & Boy —
In gamesome race, with agile Bound
Beat o’er & o’ermerrily,the grassy ground,
As if in motion perfect joy.
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So vanishes my idle dream
That we through this long vernal day,
Associates in their youthful play
With them might travel in one stream
— Ah, how should we, whose heads are grey?
Light was my heart, my spirits gay
And idly did I dream
And pleasure was my theme.
But now, recalled to consciousness
With weight of years of changed estate,
Thought is not needed, to suppressre⟨suppress⟩
Those images of wild delight
That flash’d before my dazzled sight
Upon that joy-devoted morn.
Gladly we seek the stillest nook
Whence we may read, as in a book,
A history of years gone by,
Recall’d to faded Memory’sfading eye failing
By bright reflexion from the Mirthmirth
Of youthful hearts, a second birth
Of our own childish days.
Pleasure unbidden is their Guide,
⟨Q? Companion⟩—Their leader—faithful to their side
Prompting each wayward feat of strength,
The ambitious leap, the emulous race,
The startling shout, the mimic chace,
The simple half-disguisèd wile
Detected through the fluttering smile,
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A truce to this unbridled course!
— We spread upon the flowery grass
Our noon-tide meal — each Lad & Lass
Obeys the call: — we form a Round, —
And all are seated on the ground.
The noon-tide hour is passed away;
The sun’s meridian hour is past
— Again begins the emulous race,
Again succeeds the sportive chace
And thus was spent that vernal day
Till twilight check’d the noisy play:
Then did they feel a languor spread
Over their limbs — the beating head
Was still’d — the busy throbbing heart,
And silently we all depart
The shelter of our rustic cot
⟨—⟩ Receives us; & we envy not
The palace or the stately dome
But wish that all had such a home,
Each Child repeats his nightly prayer
That God may bless their Parents’ care
To guide them in the way of truth
Through helpless childhood, giddy youth.
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The closing hymn of chearful praise
Doth yet again their spirits raise;
And tis not now a thoughtless joy;
—For tender Parents, loving Friends
And all the gifts God’s bounty sends
Feelingly do they bless his name.
That homage paid, the young retire
With no unsatisfied desire:
Theirs is one long, one steady sleep
Till the sun, tip-toe on the Steep,
In front of our beloved Cot,
Casts on the walls his brightest beams:
Within a startling lustre streams:
They all awaken suddenly
As at the touch of magic spell,
Or as the Pilgrim at the Bell:
That summons him to matin prayer.
And is it sorrow that they feel?
x (Nay, call it not by such a name) by another name)
The stroke of sadness that doth steal That random stroke will stealThe⟨The⟩ random sadness that will steal
With rapid motion through their hearts
When comes the thought that yesterday
With all it’s joys is pass’d away,
The long-expected, happy day!
xAh! call it by another name!
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An instant — and all sadness goes;
Nor brighter is the half-blown rose
Than now the countenance of each child
Whether of ardent soul, or mild.
The hour was fixed: they are prepared
And homeward straight they must depart;
And, after many a brisk adieu,
On ponies trim, & fleet of limb
Their bustling journey they pursue
The fair-haired, gentle, placid Maid,
And She who is of daring mood,
The valiant, and the timid Boy
Alike are rouzed to hardihood;
And wheresoe’er the Troop appear
They scatter smiles; a hearty cheer
Meets them, from Old & Young;
And blessings fall from many a tongue
They reach the dear paternal roof;
Nor dread a cold or stern reproof
While they pour forth the history
Of three days’ mirth and revelry.
Ah! Children, happy is your lot
Still bound together in one knot
Beneath your tender Mother’s eye!
— Too soon these blessed days shall fly
And brothers shall must from Sisters part.
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And trust me, whatsoe’er your doom,
Whate’er betide through years to come,
The punctual pleasures of your home
Shall linger in your thoughts —
More dear prized than any future hope
Though Fancy have her freest scope—
⟨Trust me⟩—And Ah! Trust me too soon your hearts shall own
The Past is all that is your own.
And each appointed festival
Gratefully shall ye then recal
Less for their own sakes than for this
That each shall be a resting-place
For memory; and divide the race
Of childhood’s smooth and happy years,
Thus lengthening out that term of life
Which, governed by your Parents’ care, ⟨love,⟩
Is free from sorrow and from strife.
