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Thy harvest home, thy wassail | Ran cow and calf, and eke the very bowle,

hogges That's tost up after fox i'th' hole, So feared were for barking of the Thymummeries, thy twelf-tide

dogges. kings

And shouting of the men and women And queenes, thy Christmas revel

eke, lings,

They ronnen so, them thought hir Thy nut-browne mirth, thy russet

hertes breke. wit,

They yelleden as fendés don in And no man pays too deare for it:

Helle: To these thou hast thy times to The dokès crieden as men wold hem

quelle: And trace the hare i’ th' treacherous The gees for fere flewen over the snow;

trees, Thy witty wiles to draw and get Out of the hive came the swarme of The larke into the trammel net;

bees, Thou hast thy cockrood and thy So hideous was the noise, a beneglade

dicite! To take the precious pheasant made; Certes he Jakke Straw, and his Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls

meinie, then

Ne maden never shoutés half so To catch the pilfering birds, not

shirill, men.

When that they wolden any Fleming O happy life! if that their good

kill, The husbandmen but understood; Asthillé day was made upon the fox. Who all the day themselves do Of brass they broughten beemés please,

and of box, And younglings with such sports as Of horn and bone, in which they these;

blew and pouped, And, lving down, have nought to And therwithal they shirieked and affright

they houped; Sweet sleep, that makes more short | It seemed, as the leven shuldé the night.

falle. HIERRICK. CHAUCER: Nuns' Priest's Tale.






Now wol I turn into my tale agen.
The silly widow and her doughtren

Herden these hennés cry and maken

And out of dorés sterten they anon,
And saw the fox toward the wode is

And bare upon his back the cock

away: They criden out! " IIarow and wala

wa! A la! the fox!” and after him they

ran, And eke with stavés many another

Ran Colle our dog, and Talbot, and

And Malkin, with her distaf in her


O tuou that swing'st upon the way

ing ear Of some well-filled oaten beard, Drunk every night with a delicious

tear Dropt thee from heaven, where

now thou art reared.

The joys of earth and air are thine

entire That with thy feet and wings dost

hop and lly, And when thy poppy works thou

dost retire, To thy carved acorn-bed te lie.

Poor verans joysing as thy per

l'p with the day, the Sun thou wel- | Thus richer than untempted kings com'st then,

are we, Sport’st in the gilt plaits of his That asking nothing, nothing beams,

need; And all these merry days mak'st Though lord of all what seas emmerry men

brace, yet he Thyself and melancholy streams. That wants himself is poor indeed.

RICHARD LOVELACE, But ah! the sickle! golden ears are

cropt; Ceres and Bacchus bid good-night;

TO JOANYA. Sharp frosty fingers all your flowers have topt,

As it befell, And what scythes spared winds One summer morning we had walked shave off quite.


At break of dav, Joanna and myself. Poor verdant fool! and now green 'Twas that delightful season when

the broom, Large and as lasting as thy perch Full-flowered, and visible on every of grass

steep, Bid us lay in 'gainst winter rain, and Along the copses runs in veins of poise

gold. Their floods with an o’erflowing Our pathway led us on to Rotha's glass.


And when we came in front of that Thou best of men and friends, we

tall rock will create

That eastward looks, I there stopped A genuine summer in each other's

short, and stood breast;

Tracing the lofty barrier with my eve And spite of this cold time and From base to summit; such delight frozen fate,

I found Thaw is a warm seat to our rest. To note in shrub and tree, in stone

and flower, Our sacred hearths shall burn eter That intermixture of delicious lues, nally

In one impression, by connecting As vestal names; the Nortlı-wind,


Of their own beauty, imaged in the Shall strike his frost-stretched wings,

heart. dissolve, and fly

When I had gazed perhaps two This Etna in epitome.

minutes' space,

Joamna, looking in my eyes, beheld Dropping December shall come That ravishment of mine, and weeping in,

laughed aloud. Bewail thi' usurping of his reign; The Rock, like something starting But when in showers of old Greek*

from a sleep. we begin,

Took up the Lady's voice, and Shall cry, he hath his crown laughed again; again!

That ancient Woman seated on

Helm-era Night as clear Iesper shall our Was ready with her cavern; Ilamtapers whip

mar-scar, From the light casements where And the tall Steep of Silver-how, we play,

sent forth And the dark lag from her black A noise of laughter; southern mantle strip,

Louglırigg heari, And stick there everlasting day And Fairfield answered with a

mountain tone; Greek wine.

Ilelvellyn far into the clear blue sky Carried the Lady's voice, -old Skid- | As thick and numberless daw blew

As the gay motes that people the His speaking-trumpet; back out of

sunbeams, the clouds

Or likest lovering dreams Of Glaramara southward came the The fickle pensioners of Morvoice;

pheus' train. And Kirkstone tossed it from his But hail thou Goddess, sage and misty hear.

holy, “ Now whether” (said I to our Hail divinest Melancholy, cordial friend,

Whose saintly visage is too bright Who in the hey-lay of astonishment To hit the sense of human sight, Smiled in my face), “this were in And therefore to our weaker view simple truth

O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's A work accomplished by the brother

hue: hood

Black, but such as in esteem Of ancient mountains, or my ear Prince Memou's sister might bewas toucheal

seem, With dreams and visionary impulses Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that To me alone imparted, sure I am

strove That there was a loud uproar in the To set her beauty's praise above hills."

The Sea-Nymplis, and their powers And while we both were listening,

offended: to my side

Yet thou art higher far descended; The fair Joamna drew, as if she Thee bright-haird Vesta, long of wishell

vore, To shelter from some object of her To solitary Saturn bore; fear.

Ilis daughter she (in Saturn's reign, And hence long afterwards, when Such mixture was not belil a stain). eighteen moons

Oft in glimmering bowers and glades Were waster, as I chanced to walk He met her, and in secret shades alone

Of woody Ida's innost grove, Beneath this rock, at sunrise, on a While vet there was no fear of Jove. calm

Come, pensive Nwi, deront and pure, And silent morning, I sat down, and Sober, steadfast, and demure, there,

All in a robe of darkest grain,
In memory of affections old and true, Flowing with majestic train,
I chiselled out in those rude charac And sable stole of cyprus-lawn,

Over tlıy decent shoulders drawn. Joanna's name deep in the living Come, but keep they wonted state, stone;

With even step, and musing gait, And I and all who dwell by my And looks commercing with the fireside

skies, Have called the lovely rock, "Joan Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes: na's Rock."

There held in holy passion still,
WORDSWORTII. Forget thyself to marble, till

With a sad leaden ownward cast

Thou fix them on the earth as fast: IL PENSEROSO.

And join with thee calm Peace, and

Quiet, HENCE, vain deluding joys,

Spare Fast, that oft with Gods doth The brooul of Folly without father bred,

And hears the Muses in a ring How little you bestead,

Aye round about Jove's altar sing: Or fill the fixed mind with all your And add to these retired Leisure, toys!

That in trim gardens takes! is pleasDwell in some idle brain,

lire; And fancies fond with gaudy | But first, and chiefest, with thee

shapes possess,



Him that yon soars on golden wing, | Or the tale of Troy divine, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, Or what (though rare) of later age The Cherub Contemplation;

Emobled hath the buskin'd stage. And the mute Silence list along, But, ( sad Virgin, that thy power 'Less Philomel will deign a song, Might raise Musæus from his bower, In her sweetest, saddest plight,

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Smoothing the rugged brow of night, Such notes as warble to the string, While Cynthia checks her dragon Drew iron tears down Pluto's check, yoke,

And made Hell grant what love did Gently o'er tli accustomed oak;

seek. Sweet birl, that shumu'st the noise Or call up him that left half told of folly,

The story of Canıbuscan bola, Most musical, most melancholy! Of Camball, and of Algarsife, Thee, chaitress, oft the woods And who had Canacé to wife, among

That owull the virtuous ring and I woo, to hear thy even-song;

glass, And missing thee, I walk unseen And of the wondrous horse of brass, On the dry smooth-shaven green, On which the Tartar king did ride: To behold the wandering moon, And if aught else great bards beRiding near her highest noon,

side. Like one that had been leal astray In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Through the heav'n's wide pathless Of turneys and of trophies lung, way;

Of forests, and enchantments drear, And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Where more is meant than meets the Stooping through a fleecy cloud.

car. Oft on a plat of rising ground,

Tlus Night oft see me in thy pale I hear the far-off curfew sound,

career, Over solne wide-water'd shore,

Till civil-suited Morn appear, Swinging slow with sullen roar; Not trick'd and frouncil as she was Or, if the air will not permit,

wont Some still removed place will fit, With the Attic boy to hunt, Where glowing embers through the But kerchiefed in a comely cloud, room

While rocking winds are piping loud, Teach light to counterfeit a gloom; Or usher'd with a shower siill, Far from all resort of mirili,

When the gust hath blown his fill, Save the cricket on the hearth,

Ending on the rustling leares, Or the bellman's drowsy charm, With minute drops from off the To bless the doors from nightly

eaves. harm:

And when the sun begins to fling Or let my lamp at midnight hour Ilis flaring beams, me', Goddess, Be seen in some high lonely tow'r,

bring Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, To arched walks of twilight groves, With thrice-great lerines, or un And shadows brown that Sylvan sphere

loves The spirit of Plato, to unfold

Of pine, or monumental oak, What worlds, or what vast regions Where the rude axe with leaved hold

stroke The inmortal mind, that hath for Was never heard the Nymplis to sook

daunt, Her mansion in this fleshly nook: Or fright them from their hallow'd And of those Demons that are

hauunt. found

There in close covert by some brook, In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Where no profaner eye may look, Whose power bath a true consent Ille me from day's garishi ere, With planet, or with element.

While the bee with lonied thigli, Sometime let gorgeous Tragedly

That at her tlowery work doth sing, In sceptred pall come sweeping by, And the waters murmuring Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, I With such consort as they keep,

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Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep; Met and blocked by a huge interposAnd let some strange mysterious

ing mass of granite, dream

Scarce by a channel deep-eut, raging Wave at his wings in aery stream

up and raging onward, Of lively portraiture display'd,

Forces its flood through a passage Softy on my eyelids laid.

so narrow a lady would step And as I wake, sweet music breathe Above, about, or underneath,

There, across the great rocky Sent by some Spirit to mortals good,

wharves, a wooden bridge Or the in-een Genius of the wood.

goes, But let my due feet never fail

Carrying a path to the forest;. beTo walk the studious cloisters pale,

low, three hundred yards, say And love the higli embowed roof, Lower in level some twenty-five With antique pillars massy proof,

feet, through flats of shingle, And storieil windows richly dight, Stepping-stones and a cart-track Casting a dim religious light:

cross in the open valley. There let the pealing organ blow, But in the interval here the boiling, To the full voic'l quire below,

pent-up water In service ligh, and anthems clear, Frees itself by a final descent, atAs may with sweetness, through mine

taining a basin, ear,

Ten feet wide and eighteen long, Dissolve me into ecstasies,

with whiteness and fury Aud bring all heav'n before mine Occupied partly, but mostly pellucid, eyes.

pure, a mirror; And may at last my weary age

Beautiful there for color derived Find out the peaceful hermitage,

from green rocks under: The hairy gown and mossy cell, Beautiful, most of all, where beads Where I may sit and rightly spell

of foam uprising Of every star that heav'n doth show, Mingle their clouds of white with the And every herb that sips the dew;

delicate hue of the stillness. Till old experience to attain

Cliff overclitt for its sides, with rowan To something like prophetic strain.

and pendent birch-boughs, These pleasures Melancholy give Here it lies, awthought of above at And I will thee will choose to live.

the bridge and pathway, MILTON.

Still more enclosed from below by

wood and rocky projection.

You are shut in. left alone with FROM THE BOTHIE OF TOBER

vourself and perfection of NA VUOLICH.


Hid on all sides, left alone with THERE is a stream, I name not its yourself and the goddess of name, lest inquisitive tourist

batlı Ilunt it, and make it a lion, quid get Here, the pride of the plunger, you it at last into guide-books,

stride the fall and clear it; Springing far off from a loch unex Here, the delight of the bather, you plorerl in the folds of great

roll in beaded sparklings, mountains,

Here into pure green depth drop Falling two miles through rowan

down from loftv ledges, and stunted alder, enveloper Ilither, a month agone, they had Then for four more in a forest of

come, and discovered it; pine, where broad and ample

hither Spreais, to convey it, the glen with (Longa design, but long uaccounta

heathery slopes on both sides: 1 bly left imaccomplishell), Broad and fair the stream, with Leaving the well-known bridge and occasional falls and narrows;

pathway above to the forest, But, where the glen of its course Tuning below from the track of approaches the vale of the

the carts over stone and river,


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