All, all return; and with them comes a throng
Of withered hopes, and loves made desolate;
And high resolves, cherish'd in silence long,
Yea, struggling still beneath the incumbent weight
Of spirit-quelling Time, and adverse fate.
These only live; all else have passed away
To Memory's spectre-land; and She, who sate
'Mid that bright choir so bright, is now as they—
A morning dream of life, dissolving with the day.
The following Vindicæ Margartuanæ may be given in evidence of Walker's more sportive manner; the lines are such as one might look for, on the same subject, from Elia,[1] or Leigh Hunt, or Hartley Coleridge; and with them, and with reference to them, we utter our Vos plaudite:
Sweet name! that, utter'd or remember'd, brings
Before the thoughts a thousand lovely things;
Bright clustering pearls, and flowers of rainbow dyes,[2]
And dearer visions of beloved eyes;
Charming alike, whatever shape thou wear—
Whether thou put on Peggy's rustic air,
Or smile from merry Meg's familiar face,
Or glide along with Marjory's ancient grace,
Or frisk as Madge, wild, mischievous, and sly,
Or tower in Margaret's courtly dignity;
Hail to thee still! and may the wretch profane,
Who blurs thy spotless fame with ribald stain,[3]
Fall prone before the name he dares despise,
Unpitied victim of some Margaret's eyes;
And vainly penitent, with suppliant tongue
Retract his scorn, and mourn his slanderous wrong!
- ↑ Nor do we forget his (Lamb's) sweet stanzas to Margaret W , "in happy hour,"
Christen'd from that humble flower
Which we a daisy call. - ↑ The China-Aster, called in French, La Reine Marguérite.
- ↑ Let the galled jade wince. We love the name too well to be touched by the poet's curse. Nor did we ever hear the name maligned but once, and that was by a lady—a fair and wise one too, and herself a Margaret, "pearl of great price."
