I see thee glittering from afár;-
And then thou art a pretty Star;

Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee!

Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;-

May peace come never to his nest,
Who shall reprove thee!

Sweet Flower! for by that name at last, When all my reveries are past,

I call thee, and to that cleave fast,

Sweet silent Creature!

That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair

My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature!

XI.

TO THE SAME FLOWER.

BRIGHT flower, whose home is every where!

A Pilgrim bold in Nature's care,

And all the long year through the heir

Of joy or sorrow,

Methinks that there abides in thee

Some concord with humanity,

Given to no other Flower I see

The forest thorough!

Is it that Man is soon deprest?

A thoughtless Thing! who, once unblest,

Does little on his memory rest,

Or on his reason,

1

And Thou would'st teach him how to find

A shelter under every wind,

A hope for times that are unkind

And every season?

Thou wanderest the wide world about,
Unchecked by pride or scrupulous doubt,
With friends to greet thee, or without,
Yet pleased and willing;

Meek, yielding to the occasion's call,
And all things suffering from all,

Thy function apostolical

In peace fulfilling.

XII.

TO A SKY-LARK.

Up with me! up with me into the clouds!
For thy song, Lark, is strong;
Up with me, up with me into the clouds !
Singing, singing

With all the heavens about thee ringing,
me, guide me till I find

Lift

That spot which seems so to thy mind!

I have walked through wildernesses dreary,
And to-day my heart is weary;

Had I now the wings of a Faery,
Up to thee would I fly.

There is madness about thee, and joy divine
In that song of thine;

Up with me, up with me, high and high,

To thy banqueting-place in the sky!

Joyous as Morning,

Thou art laughing and scorning;

Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest: And, though little troubled with sloth, Drunken Lark! thou would'st be loth

To be such a Traveller as I.

Happy, happy Liver!

With a soul as strong as a mountain River,
Pouring out praise to the Almighty Giver,
Joy and jollity be with us both!

Hearing thee, or else some other,
As merry a Brother,

I on the earth will go plodding on,

By myself, cheerfully, till the day is done.