How the world's first children ran Laughing, shouting to their mother. And could you keep down your mirth When the floods were on the earth; When from all your drowning kin, Good old Noah took you in? In the very Ark, no doubt, No, we cannot hear of this; Have ye no traditions, none, Of the court of Solomon ? No memorial how ye went With Prince Hiram's armament? Were ye given or were ye sold 'Cause ye neither read nor write? Look now at him! slyly peep, With his arm beneath his head. Now that posture is not right, Ha! he is not half asleep! See he slyly takes a peep. Monkey, though your eyes were shut, You could see this little nut. You shall have it, pigmy brother. There, the little ancient man AN ENGLISH FIRESIDE. BY SAMUEL ROGERS. Ar night, when all, assembling round the fire, A tale is told of India or Japan, Of merchants from Golcond or Astracan; In their long march, such as the prophet bids, And in an instant lost- a hollow wave Of burning sand their everlasting grave! to a square Glittering with light, all nations masking there, With light reflected on the tremulous tide, Where gondolas in gay confusion glide, Answering the jest, the song on every side; To Naples next- - and at the crowded gate, A strain breaks forth (who hears and loves it not?) In Tuscan air or Handel's sacred song! ADDRESS TO A WILD DEER. BY PROFESSOR WILSON. MAGNIFICENT creature! so stately and bright, Or borne like a whirlwind down on the vale?- - - Hail! idol divine!- whom Nature hath borne O'er a hundred hill-tops since the mists of the morn, Whom the pilgrim long wandering on mountain and moor, As the vision glides by him, may blameless adore; For the joy of the happy, the strength of the free, Are spread in a garment of glory o'er thee. Up! up to yon cliff! like a king to his throne, Unto footsteps so fleet and so fearless as thine. Lo! the clouds in the depths of the sky are at rest : And the race of the wild winds is o'er on the hill! In the hush of the mountains, yet antlers lie still Though your branches now toss in the storm of delight, Like the arms of the pine on yon shelterless height: One moment thou bright apparition ! - delay! Then melt o'er the crags, like the sun from the day. Aloft on the weather gleam, scorning the earth, That wild spirit hung in majestical mirth: In dalliance with danger, he bounded in bliss, O'er the fathomless gloom of each moaning abyss ; O'er the grim rocks careering with prosperous motion, Like a ship by herself in full sail o'er the ocean. Then proudly he turned ere he sank to the dell, And shook from his forehead a haughty farewell, While his horns in a crescent of radiance shone, Like a flag burning bright when the vessel is gone. The ship of the desert hath passed on the wind, And left the dark ocean of mountains behind : But my spirit will travel wherever she flee; And behold her in pomp o'er the rim of the sea! |