Ye torrents, foaming down the rocky steeps, Ye lakes, wherein the spirit of water sleeps, Ye vales and hills, whose beauty hither drew The Poet’s steps and fixed him here, on you His eyes have closed! and ye, loved books, no more Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore, To works that ne’er shall forfeit their renown Adding immortal labours of his own-- Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal For the State’s guidance or the Church’s weal, Or Fancy, disciplined by studious art, Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart, Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot’s mind By reverence for the rights of all mankind. Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast Could private feelings find a holier nest. His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud From Skiddaw’s top; but he to Heaven was vowed Through a long life, and calmed by Christian faith, In his pure soul, the fear of change and death. This Memorial was erected by friends of Robert Southey. Edward Quillinan wrote, 25th March 1843, “Yesterday I drove Mr. Wordsworth early over to Keswick, that he and I might attend the funeral of Mr. Southey, who was buried in Crosthwaite churchyard there at eleven A.M. It was very affecting to see Kate Southey with her brother Cuthbert, and brother-in-law Herbert Hill, at her father’s grave as the coffin was lowered into it. She looked as if she yearned to be there too. She says she has now got her father back again.”--ED. TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER WORDSWORTH, D.D., MASTER OF HARROW SCHOOL[271] After the perusal of his _Theophilus Anglicanus_, recently published. Composed 1843.--Published 1845 One of the “Miscellaneous Sonnets.”--ED. Enlightened Teacher, gladly from thy hand Have I received this proof of pains bestowed By Thee to guide thy Pupils on the road That, in our native isle, and every land, The Church, when trusting in divine command 5 And in her Catholic attributes, hath trod: O may these lessons be with profit scanned To thy heart’s wish, thy labour blest by God! So the bright faces of the young and gay Shall look more bright--the happy, happier still; 10 Catch, in the pauses of their keenest play, Motions of thought which elevate the will And, like the Spire that from your classic Hill Points heavenward, indicate the end and way. RYDAL MOUNT, _Dec. 11, 1843_. [271] The poet’s nephew, afterwards Canon of Westminster, and Bishop of Lincoln, and the biographer of his uncle.--ED. 1844 Only four poems were written in 1844.--ED. “SO FAIR, SO SWEET, WITHAL SO SENSITIVE” Composed July 1844.--Published 1845 One of the “Poems of Sentiment and Reflection.”--ED.