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NOTES TO PART VII.

1 The Hermit of the Wood,

2 Approacheth the ship with wonder. 3 The ship suddenly sinketh.

4 The Ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat. 5 The Ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him, and the penance of life falls on him:

6 And ever and anon throughout his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land.

7 And to teach, by his own example, love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth.

D

ABSENCE,

A FAREWELL ODE.

WHERE graced with many a classic spoil
Cam rolls his reverend stream along,
I haste to urge the learned toil

That sternly chides my love-lorn song:
Ah me! too mindful of the days

Illum'd by Passion's orient rays,

When Peace, and Cheerfulness, and Health Enrich'd me with the best of wealth.

Ah fair Delights! that o'er my soul
On Mem'ry's wing, like shadows, fly!
Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole
While Innocence stood smiling by!-
But cease,
fond heart! this bootless moan.
Those hours on rapid pinions flown
Shall yet return, by Absence crown'd,
And scatter livelier roses round.

The Sun, who ne'er remits his fires
On heedless eyes may pour the day:
The Moon, that oft from Heav'n retires,
Endears her renovated ray.

What tho' she leave the sky unblest
To mourn awhile in murky vest?
When she relumes her lovely Light,
We bless the Wanderer of the Night.

SONNET.

As when far off the warbled strains are heard
That soar on morning's wing the vales among,
Within his cage th' imprison'd matin bird
Swells the full chorus with a generous song:
He bathes no pinion in the dewy light,
No father's joy, no lover's bliss he shares,
Yet still the rising radiance cheers his sight-
His fellows' freedom soothes the captive's cares!
Thou, Fayette! who didst wake with startling

voice

Life's better sun from that long wintry night, Thus in thy country's triumphs shalt rejoice, And mock with raptures high the dungeon's might:

For lo! the morning struggles into day, And slavery's spectres shriek, and vanish from the ray !

SONGS OF THE PIXIES.

THE PIXIES, in the superstition, of Devonshire, are a race of beings invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small distance from a village in that county, half-way up a wood-cover'd hill, is an excavation, called the Pixies' Parlour. The roots of old trees form its ceiling; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the Author discovered his own cypher and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of their childhood. At the foot of the hill flows

the river Otter.

To this place the Author conducted a party of young Ladies, during the summer months of the year 1793; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was proclaimed the Fairy Queen: on which occasion, and at which time, the following irregular Ode was written.

WHOм the untaught Shepherds call
Pixies in their madrigal,
Fancy's children, here we dwell:
Welcome, Ladies! to our cell.
Here the wren of softest note

Builds its nest and warbles well;

Here the blackbird strains his throat :
Welcome, Ladies! to our cell.

When fades the moon all shadowy pale
And scuds the cloud before the gale,
Ere Morn with living gems bedight
Streaks the east with purple light,
We sip the furze-flow'rs' fragrant dews
Clad in robes of rainbow hues

Richer than the deepen'd bloom

That glows on Summer's scented plume:
Or sport amid the rosy gleam

Sooth'd by the distant-tinkling team,
While lusty Labour scouting sorrow
Bids the Dame a glad good-morrow,
Who jogs th' accustom'd road along,
And paces cheery to her cheering song.

But not our filmy pinion
We scorch amid the blaze of day,
When Noontide's fiery-tressed minion
Flashes the fervid ray,

Aye from the sultry heat

We to the cave retreat

O'ercanopied by huge roots intertwin'd

With wildest texture, blacken'd o'er with age; Round them their mantle green the ivies bind, Beneath whose foliage pale

Fann'd by the unfrequent gale

We shield us from the Tyrant's mid-day rage.

Thither while the murm'ring throng,
Of wild bees hum their drowsy song,

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