WORDSWORTH’S COTTAGE.

    Low and white, yet scarcely seen
    Are its walls of mantling green;
    Not a window lets in light
    But through flowers clustering bright,
    Not a glance may wander there
    But it falls on something fair;
    Garden choice and fairy mound
    Only that no elves are found;
    Winding walk and sheltered nook
    For student grave and graver book,
    Or a bird-like bower perchance
    Fit for maiden and romance.

Another lady-poet has poured forth in verse her admiration of

THE RESIDENCE OF WORDSWORTH.

    Not for the glory on their heads
      Those stately hill-tops wear,
    Although the summer sunset sheds
      Its constant crimson there: 
    Not for the gleaming lights that break
    The purple of the twilight lake,
      Half dusky and half fair,
    Does that sweet valley seem to be
    A sacred place on earth to me.

    The influence of a moral spell
      Is found around the scene,
    Giving new shadows to the dell,
      New verdure to the green. 
    With every mountain-top is wrought
    The presence of associate thought,
      A music that has been;
    Calling that loveliness to life,
    With which the inward world is rife.

    His home—­our English poet’s home—­
      Amid these hills is made;
    Here, with the morning, hath he come,
      There, with the night delayed. 
    On all things is his memory cast,
    For every place wherein he past,
      Is with his mind arrayed,
    That, wandering in a summer hour,
    Asked wisdom of the leaf and flower.

L.E.L.

The cottage and garden of the poet are not only picturesque and delightful in themselves, but from their position in the midst of some of the finest scenery of England.  One of the writers in the book entitled ‘The Land we Live in’ observes that the bard of the mountains and the lakes could not have found a more fitting habitation had the whole land been before him, where to choose his place of rest.  “Snugly sheltered by the mountains, embowered among trees, and having in itself prospects of surpassing beauty, it also lies in the midst of the very noblest objects in the district, and in one of the happiest social positions.  The grounds are delightful in every respect; but one view—­that from the terrace of moss-like grass—­is, to our thinking, the most exquisitely graceful in all this land of beauty.  It embraces the whole valley of Windermere, with hills on either side softened into perfect loveliness.”