"Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulfe; and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, To kindle or reftrain. "She shall be sportive as the fawn, That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers fhall be the breathing balm, And hers the filence and the calm Of mute infenfate things. "The floating clouds their ftate fhall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor fhall fhe fail to fee E'en in the motions of the ftorm Grace that fhall mould the maiden's form By filent fympathy. "The stars of midnight shall be clear To her; and fhe fhall lean her ear In many a fecret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring found "And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to ftately height, Her virgin bofom fwell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While fhe and I together live Here in this happy dell." Thus Nature fpake. The work was done How foon my Lucy's race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be. SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT. She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam'd upon my fight; A lovely apparition, fent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, Like twilight's, too, her dufky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, I saw her upon nearer view, A countenance in which did meet And now I fee with eye ferene Poems on Flowers. TO THE DAISY N youth from rock to rock I went, Of pleasure high and turbulent, Most pleased when most uneasy; But now my own delights I make,— When foothed a while by milder airs, While fummer fields are thine by right; When rains are on thee. In fhoals and bands, a morrice train, Nor car'ft if thou be set at naught: We meet thee, like a pleasant thought Be violets in their secret mews The flowers the wanton zephyrs choose; Thou liv'ft with less ambitious aim, If to a rock from rains he fly, Near the green holly, And wearily at length should fare; |