"'TIS SAID THAT SOME HAVE DIED FOR LOVE." That in fome other way yon smoke May mount into the sky! The clouds pafs on; they from the heavens depart. I know not what I trace; But, when I ceafe to look, my hand is on my heart. "O, what a weight is in these shades! ye leaves, Thou thrush, that fingest loud—and loud and free, Upon that alder fit, Or fing another fong, or choose another tree. "Roll back, fweet rill! back to thy mountain bounds, And there for ever be thy waters chain'd! For thou doft haunt the air with founds That cannot be sustain❜d; If still beneath that pine-tree's ragged bough Headlong yon waterfall must come, Oh let it then be dumb! Be anything, sweet rill, but that which thou art now. "Thou eglantine, whofe arch fo proudly towers (Even like a rainbow spanning half the vale), Thou one fair fhrub-oh, shed thy flowers, For thus to fee thee nodding in the air, - To fee thy arch thus stretch and bend, Disturbs me, till the fight is more than I can bear." The man who makes this feverish complaint Derwent-water. SONNET TO SKIDDAW. ELION and Offa flourish fide by fide, Yet round our fea-girt shore they rise in crowds: Mount Skiddaw? In his natural fovereignty Our British hill is fairer far: he shrouds His double-fronted head in higher clouds, And pours forth ftreams more fweet than Caftaly. "THE CHILDLESS FATHER." "Up, Timothy, up, with your staff, and away! -Of coats and of jackets, grey, scarlet, and green, The bafin of boxwood, just fix months before, Now faft up the dell came the noise and the fray, Perhaps to himself at that moment he said, INSCRIPTION For the Spot where the Hermitage Stood ON ST. HERBERT'S ISLAND, DERWENT-WATER. This ifland, guarded from profane approach The Deity, with undistracted mind, And meditate on everlasting things. Stranger! this fhapeless heap of stones and earth (Long be its mofly covering undisturbed ! ) Is reverenced as a veftige of the abode |