The Poetical Works of William Motherwell/The Joys of the Wilderness

by William Motherwell

The Joys of the Wilderness.

 

I have a wish, and it is this, that in some uncouth glen,
It were my lot to find a spot unknown by selfish men;
Where I might be securely free, like Eremite of old,
From Worldly guile, from Woman's wile, and Friendships brief and cold;
And where I might, with stern delight, enjoy the varied form
Of Nature's mood, in every rude burst of the thundering storm.

Then would my life, lacking fierce strife, glide on in dreamy gladness,
Nor would I know the cark and woe which come of this world's madness;
While in a row, like some poor show, its pageantries would pass,
Without a sigh, before mine eye, as shadows o'er a glass:

Nonentity these shadows be,—and yet, good Lord! how brave
That knavish rout doth strut and flout, then shrink into the grave!

The Wilderness breathes gentleness;—these waters bubbling free,
The gallant breeze that stirs the trees, form Heaven's own melody;
The far-stretched sky, with its bright eye, pours forth a tide of love
On every thing that here doth spring, on all that glows above.
But live with man,—his dark heart scan,—its paltry selfishness
Will show to thee, why men like me, love the lone Wilderness!