Thou fing'ft as if the god of wine I heard a stock-dove fing or fay THE SPARROW'S NEST. Behold, within the leafy shade, I started-seeming to espy The home and fhelter'd bed, The fparrow's dwelling which, hard by She look'd at it as if the fear'd it; She gave me eyes, fhe gave me ears; Intimations of Immortality FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD. The child is father of the man ; Bound each to each by natural piety. HERE was a time when meadow, grove, and ftream, The earth, and every common fight, To me did feem Appareled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more ! The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose ; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, 'That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. Now, while the birds thus fing a joyous song, To me alone there came a thought of grief: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep,— Land and fea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every beast keep holiday;— Thou child of joy, Shout round me, let me hear thy fhouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy! BB Ye bleffed creatures, I have heard the call My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss I feel—I feel it all. This sweet May morning; On every fide, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the fun fhines warm, -But there's a tree, of many one, A fingle field which I have looked upon, Doth the fame tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream? Our birth is but a fleep and a forgetting: And cometh from afar; gone: |