In Dovedale
Henry Glassford Bell
Isaac! still thou anglest near me
By the green banks of thy Dove,
Still thy gentle ghost may hear me
Breathe my reverence and love.
Thou, whose ears drank in the warble
Of all streams in crystal play,—
Will thy bones beneath cold marble
Lie in peace so far away?
O my kindly old piscator,
See'st thou not these waters clear?
Time, thou changeling. Time, thou traitor,
Give him back,—his home was here!
Lo! at yonder bend he standeth,
Where round rocks the wave bells out,
See! with skilful touch he landeth
Now a grayling, now a trout.
Stream of beauty! winding, singing
Through the world's divinest dale,
Ever to thy music bringing
That old spirit calm and pale!
Learned in all honest learning,
Trustful, truthful, pure of heart;
Peaceful, blameless honour earning
By the magic of his art.
In life's fitful turmoil often
Have I longed to be like him,
And have felt my nature soften
Musing on that phantom dim,—
Now a trout and now a grayling
Luring from the shaded pool,
God's white clouds high o'er him sailing,
All around the beautiful!
The Dove is renowned as a great trout stream.
The Isaac of the poem is Izaak Walton, the author of "The Compleat Angler". He does lie in peace a long way from the Dove - he is buried in Winchester Cathedral.
