Chequering the ground-from rock, plant, tree, or tower. At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Startles the pensive traveller while he treads His lonesome path, with unobserving eye To Scotland's heaths; or those that crossed the sea Bent earthwards; he looks up--the clouds are split Produced too slowly ever to decay; Asunder, and above his head he sees The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens. At length the Vision closes; and the mind, IV. AIREY-FORCE VALLEY. Nor a breath of air Ruffles the bosom of this leafy glen. 1798. From the brook's margin, wide around, the trees Old as the hills that feed it from afar, Is the light ash! that, pendent from the brow To stay the wanderer's steps and soothe his thoughts. V. YEW-TREES. THERE is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed. But worthier still of note Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved; Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked As in a natural temple scattered o'er VI. NUTTING. It seems a day (I speak of one from many singled out) One of those heavenly days that cannot die; When, in the eagerness of boyish hope, 1803. I left our cottage-threshold, sallying forth A virgin scene!-A little while I stood, The banquet ;-or beneath the trees I sate Among the flowers, and with the flowers I played; A temper known to those, who, after long And weary expectation, have been blest With sudden happiness beyond all hope. Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose leaves The violets of five seasons re-appear And fade, unseen by any human eye; Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on For ever; and I saw the sparkling foam, And-with my cheek on one of those green stones That, fleeced with moss, under the shady trees, Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheepI heard the murmur and the murmuring sound, In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure, The heart luxuriates with indifferent things, Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones, And on the vacant air. Then up I rose, And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash And merciless ravage: and the shady nook The silent trees, and saw the intruding sky.— 1799. That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste--What matter! he's caught-and his time runs to waste; The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret ; Ar the corner of Wood Street, when daylight And the half-breathless Lamplighter-he's in the appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird. "Tisa note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; net! The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore; The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store ;If a thief could be here he might pilfer at ease; She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees! Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, He stands, backed by the wall ;-he abates not his And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. din; That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour! That Mother, whose spirit in fetters is bound, While she dandles the Babe in her arms to the sound. Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream; Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream: They are deaf to your murmurs-they care not for you, Nor what ye are flying, nor what ye pursue! 1806. L |