Epistle To Augusta.[83]

I.     My Sister! my sweet Sister! if a name     Dearer and purer were, it should be thine.     Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim     No tears, but tenderness to answer mine:     Go where I will, to me thou art the same -     A loved regret which I would not resign.[z]     There yet are two things in my destiny, -     A world to roam through, and a home with thee.[84] II.     The first were nothing - had I still the last,     It were the haven of my happiness;     But other claims and other ties thou hast,[aa]     And mine is not the wish to make them less.     A strange doom is thy father's son's, and past[ab]     Recalling, as it lies beyond redress;     Reversed for him our grandsire's[85] fate of yore, -     He had no rest at sea, nor I on shore. III.     If my inheritance of storms hath been     In other elements, and on the rocks     Of perils, overlooked or unforeseen,     I have sustained my share of worldly shocks,     The fault was mine; nor do I seek to screen     My errors with defensive paradox;[ac]     I have been cunning in mine overthrow,     The careful pilot of my proper woe. IV.     Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward.     My whole life was a contest, since the day     That gave me being, gave me that which marred     The gift, - a fate, or will, that walked astray;[86]     And I at times have found the struggle hard,     And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay:     But now I fain would for a time survive,     If but to see what next can well arrive. V.     Kingdoms and Empires in my little day     I have outlived, and yet I am not old;     And when I look on this, the petty spray     Of my own years of trouble, which have rolled     Like a wild bay of breakers, melts away:     Something - I know not what - does still uphold     A spirit of slight patience; - not in vain,     Even for its own sake, do we purchase Pain. VI.     Perhaps the workings of defiance stir     Within me - or, perhaps, a cold despair     Brought on when ills habitually recur, -     Perhaps a kinder clime, or purer air,     (For even to this may change of soul refer,[ad]     And with light armour we may learn to bear,)     Have taught me a strange quiet, which was not     The chief companion of a calmer lot.[ae] VII.     I feel almost at times as I have felt     In happy childhood; trees, and flowers, and brooks,     Which do remember me of where I dwelt,     Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books,[af]     Come as of yore upon me, and can melt     My heart with recognition of their looks;     And even at moments I could think I see     Some living thing to love - but none like thee.[ag] VIII.     Here are the Alpine landscapes which create     A fund for contemplation; - to admire     Is a brief feeling of a trivial date;     But something worthier do such scenes inspire:     Here to be lonely is not desolate,[87]     For much I view which I could most desire,     And, above all, a Lake I can behold     Lovelier, not dearer, than our own of old.[88] IX.     Oh that thou wert but with me! - but I grow     The fool of my own wishes, and forget     The solitude which I have vaunted so     Has lost its praise in this but one regret;     There may be others which I less may show; -     I am not of the plaintive mood, and yet     I feel an ebb in my philosophy,     And the tide rising in my altered eye.[ah] X.     I did remind thee of our own dear Lake,     By the old Hall which may be mine no more.     Leman's is fair; but think not I forsake     The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore:     Sad havoc Time must with my memory make,     Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before;     Though, like all things which I have loved, they are     Resigned for ever, or divided far. XI.     The world is all before me; I but ask     Of Nature that with which she will comply -     It is but in her Summer's sun to bask,     To mingle with the quiet of her sky,     To see her gentle face without a mask,     And never gaze on it with apathy.     She was my early friend, and now shall be     My sister - till I look again on thee. XII.     I can reduce all feelings but this one;     And that I would not; - for at length I see     Such scenes as those wherein my life begun - [89]     The earliest - even the only paths for me - [ai]     Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun,     I had been better than I now can be;     The Passions which have torn me would have slept;     I had not suffered, and thou hadst not wept. XIII.     With false Ambition what had I to do?     Little with Love, and least of all with Fame;     And yet they came unsought, and with me grew,     And made me all which they can make - a Name.     Yet this was not the end I did pursue;     Surely I once beheld a nobler aim.     But all is over - I am one the more     To baffled millions which have gone before. XIV.     And for the future, this world's future may[aj]     From me demand but little of my care;     I have outlived myself by many a day;[ak]     Having survived so many things that were;     My years have been no slumber, but the prey     Of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share     Of life which might have filled a century,[90]     Before its fourth in time had passed me by. XV.     And for the remnant which may be to come[al]     I am content; and for the past I feel     Not thankless, - for within the crowded sum     Of struggles, Happiness at times would steal,     And for the present, I would not benumb     My feelings farther. - Nor shall I conceal     That with all this I still can look around,     And worship Nature with a thought profound. XVI.     For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart     I know myself secure, as thou in mine;     We were and are - I am, even as thou art - [am]     Beings who ne'er each other can resign;     It is the same, together or apart,     From Life's commencement to its slow decline     We are entwined - let Death come slow or fast,[an]     The tie which bound the first endures the last!                 [First published, Letters and Journals, 1830, ii. 38-41.]