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The nectarine, and curious peach, Restore me the rocks where the Into my hands themselves do reach;
snowflake reposes, Stumbling on melons, as I pass,
For still they are sacred to freedom Inshared with flowers, I fall on
and love: grass.
Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy
mountains, Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure Round their white summits though
elements war, Withdraws into its happiness, - Though cataracts foam, 'stead of The mind, that ocean where each
smooth-flowing fountains, kind
I sigh for the valley of dark Loch Does straight its own resemblance
na Gair. find, Yet it creates, transcending these, Ah! there my young footsteps in Far other worlds and other seas,
infancy wandered; Annihilating all that's made
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak To a green thought in a green shade.
was the plaid;
On chieftains long perished, my Here at the fountain's sliding foot,
memory pondered, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, As daily I strode through the pineCasting the body's vest aside,
covered glade; My soul into the boughs does glide: I sought not iny home till the day's There, like a bird, it sits and sings,
dying glory Then whets and claps its silver Gave place to the rays of the bright wings,
polar star; And, till prepared for longer fight, For Fancy was cheered by traditional Waves in its plumes the various
Disclosed by the natives of dark
Loch na Gair. Such was that happy garden-state, While man there walked without a “Shades of the dead! have I not mate:
heard your voices After a place so pure and sweet,
Rise on the night-rolling breath of What other help could yet be meet!
the gale?” But 'twas beyond a mortal's share Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, To wander solitary there:
And rides on the wind o'er his Two paradises are in one,
own Highland vale: To live in paradise alone.
Round Loch na Gair, while the
stormy mist gathers, IIow well the skilful gardener drew Winter presides in his cold icy Of flowers and herbs this dial new,
car; Where, from above, the milder su | Clouds there encircle the forms of Does through a fragrant zodiac rw,
my fathers : And, as it works, the industrious bee They dwell in the tempests of dark Computes its time as well as we!
Loch na Gair. Ilow could such sweet and wholesome hours
“Ill-starred, though brave, did no Be reckoned but with herbs and
visions foreboding flowers?
Tell you that Fate had forsaken MARVELL.
your cause?! Ah! were you destined to die at Cul
loden, LACHIN Y GAIR.
Victory crowned not your fall with
applause; Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens Still were you happy; in death's early of roses!
slumber In you let the minions of luxury You rest with your clan, in the rove;
caves of Braemar,
The pibroch resounds to the piper's | That pauses of deep silence mocked loud number,
his skill, Your deeds on the echoes of dark Then, sometimes, in that silence, Loch na Gair.
while he hung
Listening, a gentle shock of mild Years have rolled on, Loch na Gair,
surprise since I left you;
Hlas carried far into his heart the Years must elapse ere I tread you
Of mountain torrents; or the visible Nature of verdure and flowers has
scene bereft you,
Would enter uawares into his mind Yet still are you dearer than With all its solemn imagery, its Albion's plain:
rocks, Englund! thy beauties are tame and Its woods, and that uncertain heavdomestic
en, received To one who has roved on the Into the bosom of the steady lake. mountains afar;
WORDSWORTH. Oh for the crags that are wild and
majestic, The steep-frowning glories of dark TIIE EARTII-SPIRIT. Loch na Gair!
BYRON. I HAVE woven shrouds of air
In a loom of hurrying light,
For the trees which blossoms THE BOY-POET.
And gilded them with sheets of THERE was a boy; ye knew him well, bright; ye cliffs
I fall upon the grass like love's first And islands of Winander! Many a
I make the golden flies and their At evening, when the earliest stars
fine bliss; began
I paint the hedgerows in the lane, To move along the edges of the Aid clover white and red the pathhills,
ways bear; Rising or setting, would he stand I laugh aloud in sudden gusts of alone,
rain Beneath the trees, or by the glim- ! To see the ocean lash himself in mering lake;
air; And there, with fingers interwoven, I throw smooth shells and weeds both hands
along the beach, Pressed closely palm to palm and to And pour the curling waves far o'er his mouth
the glossy reach; Uplifteil, he, as through an instru Swing birds nests in the elms, and ment,
shake cool moss Blew mimic hootings to the silent Along the aged beams, and hide their owls,
loss. That they might answer him. And The very broad rough stones I gladthey would shout
den too; Across the watery vale, and shout Some willing seeds I drop along again,
their sides, Responsive to his call, with quiver- ! Nourish the generous plant with ing peals,
freshening dew, And long halloos and screams, and Till there where all was waste, true echoes loud
joy abides. Redoubled and redoubled; concourse The peaks of aged mountains, with wild
... my care Of mirth and jocund din! And Smile in the red of glowing morn when it chanced
I bind the caverns of the sea with A genius dwells, that can subdue hair,
At once all memory of You, — Glossy, and long, and rich as kings' | Most potent when mists veil the estate;
sky, I polish the green ice, and gleam | Mists that distort and magnify; the wall
While the coarse rushes to the With the white frost, and leaf the
sweeping breeze brown trees tall.
Sigh forth their ancient melodies! CHANNING.
III. THE PASS OF KIRKSTONE. List to those shriller notes! that
march Within the mind strong fancies Perchance was on the blast, work,
When, through this height's inverted A deep delight the bosom thrills,
arch, Oft as I pass along the fork
Rome's earliest legion passed! Of these fraternal hills,
They saw, adventurously impelled, Where, save the rugged road, we And older eyes than theirs beheld, find
This block, and yon, whose churchNo appanage of human kind,
like frame Nor hint of man; if stone or rock
Gives to this savage pass its name. Seem not his handiwork to mock Aspiring Road! that lov'st to hide By something cognizably shaped; Thy daring in a vapory bourn, Mockery, or model roughly hewni, Not seldom may the hour return And left as if by earthquake strewn, When thou shalt be my guide. Or from the flood escaped :
WORDSWORTH. Altars for Druid service fit; (But where no fire was ever lit, Unless the glow-worm to the skies
SOLITUDE. Thence offer nightly sacritice,) Wrinkled Egyptian monument; THERE is a pleasure in the pathless Green moss-grown tower; or hoary
There is a rapture on the lonely Tents of a camp that never shall be
There is society where none inOn which four thousand years have
trudes, By the deep sea, and music in its
I love not man the less, but nature Ye ploughshares sparkling on the
From these our interviews, in which Ye snow-white lambs that trip
I steal Imprisoned 'mid the formal props From all I may be, or have been Of restless ownership!
before, Ye trees, that may to-morrow fall To mingle with the universe, and To feed the insatiate prodigal!
feel Lawns, houses, chattels, groves, and What I can ne'er express, yet canfio
not all conceal. All that the fertile valley shields; Wages of folly, baits of crime,
Roll on, thou deep and dark-blue Of life's uneasy game the stake,
ocean, roll! Playthings that keep the eyes awake Ten thousand tleets sweep over thee Of drowsy, dotard Time,
in vain: () care! 0 guilt! ( vales and Man marks the earth with ruin: his plains,
control Here, mid his own unvexed do Stops with the shore: upon the mains,
O PROSERPINA, For the flowers now, that frighted,
thou let'st fall From Dis's wagon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares,
and take The winds of March with beauty;
violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's
eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; pale prim
roses, That die unmarried, ere they can
behold. Bright Phoebus in his strength, a
malady Most incident to maids; bold ox-lips,
and The crown-imperial; lilies of all
kinds, The flower-de-luce being one! 0,
these I lack. To make you garlands of; and my
sweet friend, . To strew him o'er and o’er!
SIIAKSPEARE: Il'inter's Tule.
I HAVE learned • To look on Nature, not as in the
Ah, sunflower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden
clime, Where the traveller's journey is
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing
oftentiines The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of
ample power To chasten and subdue. And I
have felt A presence that disturbs me with
the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sub
Jime Of something far more deeply inter
fused, Whose dwelling is the light of set
ting suns, And the round ocean, and the living
air, And the blue sky, and in the mind
of man, A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all
thought, Aud rolls through all things. There
fore am I still A lover of the meadows, and the
woods, And mountains, and of all that we
behold From this green earth; of all the
mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half
create, And what perceive; well pleased to
recognize In Nature and the language of the
sense The anchor of my purest thoughts.
Where the youth pined away with
desire, And the pale virgin shrouded in
snow, Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my suntlower wishes to go.
THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS.
The melancholy days are come, the
saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods,
and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove,
the withered leaves lie dead: They rustle to the eddying gust, and
to the rabbit's tread.
The robin and the wren are flown, | Yet not unmeet it was, that one, and from the shrubs the jay;
like that young friend of ours, And from the wood-top calls the So gentle and so beautiful, should
crow, through all the gloomy perish with the flowers.
BRYANT. Where are the flowers, the fair
young flowers, that lately | TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN.
sprang and stood, In brighter light and softer airs, a Thou blossom bright with autumn beauteous sisterhood ?
dew, Alas! they all are in their graves :
| And colored with the heaven's own the gentle race of towers
blue, Are lying in their lowly beds, with
That openest, when the quiet light the fair and good of ours.
Succeeds the keen and frosty night. The rain is falling where they lie; but the cold November rain
Thou comest not when violets lean Calls not, from out the gloomy
O'er wandering brooks and springs. earth, the lovely ones again.
Or columbines, in purple drest, The wind-flower and the violet,
Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden they perished long ago;
nest. And the brier-lose and the orchis
died amid the summer glow; Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, But on the hill the golden-rod, and
When woods are bare, and birds are the aster in the wood,
flown, And the yellow suiflower by the
And frosts and shortening days porbrook, in autumn beauty stood,
heaven, as falls the plague on
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eve And the brightness of their smile
Look through its fringes to the was gone from upland, glade,
sky, and glen.
Blue, blue, as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall. And now when comes the calm mild
day, as still such days will I would that thus, when I shall see come,
The hour of death draw near to To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
Hope, blossoming within my heart, When the sound of dropping nuts is May look to heaven as I depart. heard, though all the trees are
BRYANT. still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,
TREES. The south wind searches for the
flowers whose fragrance late A SHADIE grove not far away they he bore,
spied, And sighs to find them in the wood That promist avde the tempest to and by the stream no more.
withstand; And then I ilink of one who in her Whose loftie trees, yclad with somyouthfu beauty died,
mers pride, The fair, meek blossom that grew Did spred so broad, that heaven's up, and faded by my side:
light did hide, In the cold moist earth we laid her Not perceable with power of any when the forest cast the leaf,
starr; And we wept that one so lovely And all within were pathes and alshould have a life so brief;