Richard Monckton Milnes (1809–1885)

[See also 1840 and 1844]

‘I love the Forest;—I could dwell among’

I LOVE the Forest;—I could dwell among

That silent people, till my thoughts up-grew

In nobly-ordered form, as to my view

Rose the succession of that lofty throng:—

The mellow footstep on a ground of leaves

Formed by the slow decay of nume'rous years,—

The couch of moss, whose growth alone appears,

Beneath the fir's inhospitable eaves,—

The chirp and flutter of some single bird,—

The rustle in the brake,—what precious store

Of joys have these on Poets' hearts conferred?

And then at times to send one's own voice out,

In the full frolic of one startling shout,

Only to feel the after-stillness more!

Feelings Excited by Some Military Manœuvres at Verona

WHAT is the lesson I have brought away,

After the moment's palpitating glee?

What has this pomp of men, this strong array

Of thousands and ten thousands been to me?

Did I find nothing but the vision gay,

The mere phenomenon that all could see?

Did I feel nothing but the brute display

Of Power,—the show of centred energy?

Trembling and humbled, I was taught how hard

It is for our strait minds at once to scan

The might of banded numbers, and regard

The individual soul, the living Man;

To use mechanic multitudes, and yet

Our common human feelings not forget!