The Wishing Gate Destroyed

'Tis gone, with old belief and dream That round it clung, and tempting scheme Released from fear and doubt; And the bright landscape too must lie, By this blank wall, from every eye, Relentlessly shut out. Bear witness ye who seldom passed That opening, but a look ye cast Upon the lake below, What spirit-stirring power it gained From faith which here was entertained, Though reason might say no. Blest is that ground, where, o'er the springs Of history, Glory claps her wings, Fame sheds the exulting tear; Yet earth is wide, and many a nook Unheard of is, like this, a book For modest meanings dear. It was in sooth a happy thought That grafted, on so fair a spot, So confident a token Of coming good; the charm is fled, Indulgent centuries spun a thread, Which one harsh day has broken. Alas! for him who gave the word; Could he no sympathy afford, Derived from earth or heaven, To hearts so oft by hope betrayed; Their very wishes wanted aid Which here was freely given? Where, for the love-lorn maiden's wound, Will now so readily be found A balm of expectation? Anxious for far-off children, where Shall mothers breathe a like sweet air Of home-felt consolation? And not unfelt will prove the loss 'Mid trivial care and petty cross And each day's shallow grief; Though the most easily beguiled Were oft among the first that smiled At their own fond belief. If still the reckless change we mourn, A reconciling thought may turn To harm that might lurk here, Ere judgment prompted from within Fit aims, with courage to begin, And strength to persevere. Not Fortune's slave is Man: our state Enjoins, while firm resolves await On wishes just and wise. That strenuous action follow both, And life be one perpetual growth Of heaven-ward enterprise. So taught, so trained, we boldly face All accidents of time and place; Whatever props may fail, Trust in that sovereign law can spread New glory o'er the mountain's head, Fresh beauty through the vale. That truth informing mind and heart, The simplest cottager may part, Ungrieved, with charm and spell; And yet, lost Wishing-gate, to thee The voice of grateful memory Shall bid a kind farewell!