* * * * *

“When, to the attractions of the busy world”

Composed 1800 to 1805.—­Published 1815

[The grove still exists; but the plantation has been walled in, and is not so accessible as when my brother John wore the path in the manner here described.  The grove was a favourite haunt with us all while we lived at Town-end.—­I.  F.]

This was No.  VI. of the “Poems on the Naming of Places.”  For several suggested changes in Ms. see Appendix I. p. 385.—­Ed.

  When, to the attractions of the busy world,
  Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen
  A habitation in this peaceful Vale,
  Sharp season followed of continual storm
  In deepest winter; and, from week to week, 5
  Pathway, and lane, and public road, were clogged
  With frequent showers of snow.  Upon a hill
  At a short distance from my cottage, stands
  A stately Fir-grove, whither I was wont
  To hasten, for I found, beneath the roof 10
  Of that perennial shade, a cloistral place
  Of refuge, with an unincumbered floor. 
  Here, in safe covert, on the shallow snow,
  And, sometimes, on a speck of visible earth,
  The redbreast near me hopped; nor was I loth 15
  To sympathise with vulgar coppice birds
  That, for protection from the nipping blast,
  Hither repaired.—­A single beech-tree grew
  Within this grove of firs! and, on the fork
  Of that one beech, appeared a thrush’s nest; 20
  A last year’s nest, conspicuously built
  At such small elevation from the ground
  As gave sure sign that they, who in that house
  Of nature and of love had made their home
  Amid the fir-trees, all the summer long 25
  Dwelt in a tranquil spot.  And oftentimes,
  A few sheep, stragglers from some mountain-flock,
  Would watch my motions with suspicious stare,
  From the remotest outskirts of the grove,—­
  Some nook where they had made their final stand, 30
  Huddling together from two fears—­the fear
  Of me and of the storm.  Full many an hour
  Here did I lose.  But in this grove the trees
  Had been so thickly planted, and had thriven
  In such perplexed and intricate array; 35
  That vainly did I seek, beneath [1] their stems
  A length of open space, where to and fro
  My feet might move without concern or care;
  And, baffled thus, though earth from day to day
  Was fettered, and the air by storm disturbed, 40
  I ceased the shelter to frequent, [2]—­and prized,
  Less than I wished to prize, that calm recess.