When downward to his winter hut he goes,

[grows; Dear and more dear the lessening circle That hut which from the hills his eye employs

So oft, the central point of all his joys.
And as a swift, by tender cares opprest,
Peeps often ere she darts into her nest,
So to the untrodden floor, where round him
looks

His father, helpless as the babe he rocks,
Oft he descends to nurse the brother pair,
Till storm and driving ice blockade him
there.

There, safely guarded by the woods behind, He hears the chiding of the baffled wind, Hears Winter, calling all his terrors round, Rush down the living rocks with whirlwind, sound.

Lo! where through flat Batavia's willowy groves,

Or by the lazy Seine the exile roves ; Soft o'er the waters mournful measures swell, [cell;" Unlocking tender thought's "memorial Past pleasures are transformed to mortal pains, [veins, While poison spreads along the listener's Poison which not a frame of steel can brave, [grave. Bows his young head with sorrow to the

Gay lark of hope, thy silent song resume! Fair smiling lights the purpled hills illume! Soft gales and dews of life's delicious morn, And thou, lost fragrance of the heart, re

turn!

sures glide

Unstained by envy, discontent, and pride; The bound of all his vanity, to deck, With one bright bell, a favourite heifer's neck; [feast, Well-pleased upon some simple annual Remembered half the year and hoped the

The general sorrows of the human race:
The churlish gales, that unremitting blow
Cold from necessity's continual snow,
To those the gentle groups of bliss deny
That on the noonday bank of leisure lie.
Yet more-compell'd by powers which
only deign

That solitary man disturb their reign,
Powers that support a never-ceasing strife
With all the tender charities of life,
The father, as his sons of strength become
To pay the filial debt, for food to roam,
From his bare nest amid the storms of
heaven
[driven;
Drives, eagle-like, those sons as he was
His last dread pleasure watches to the
plain-

And never, eagle-like, beholds again!

When the poor heart has all its joys resigned, [behind? Why does their sad remembrance cleave

All nature smiles, and owns beneath her

eyes

Her fields peculiar, and peculiar skies.
Yes, as I roamed where Loiret's waters glide
Through rustling aspens heard from side to
side,

When from October clouds a milder light
Fell, where the blue flood rippled into white,
Methought from every cot the watchful
bird

Crowed with ear-piercing power till then unheard; [muring streams, Each clacking mill, that broke the murRocked the charmed thought in more delightful dreams; [ing leaf Chasing those long, long dreams, the fallAwoke a fainter pang of moral grief; The measured echo of the distant flail Wound in more welcome cadence down the vale;

A more majestic tide the water rolled, And glowed the sun-gilt groves in richer gold. [raise -Though Liberty shall soon, indignant, Red on the hills his beacon's comet blaze; Bid from on high his lonely cannon sound,

And on ten thousand hearths his shout rebound;

His 'larum-bell from village-tower to tower Swing on the astonished ear its dull undying roar;

Yet, yet rejoice, though pride's perverted ire Rouse hell's own aid, and wrap thy hills in fire! [birth, Lo! from the innocuous flames, a lovely With its own virtues springs another earth: Nature, as in her prime, her virgin reign Begins, and love and truth compose her train ; [gaze, While, with a pulseless hand, and steadfast Unbreathing justice her still beam surveys.

Oh, give, great God, to freedom's waves to ride

Sublime o'er conquest, avarice, and pride, To sweep where pleasure decks her guilty bowers, bed towers. And dark oppression builds her thick rib-Give them, beneath their breast while gladness springs, [wings; To brood the nations o'er with Nile-like And grant that every sceptred child of clay, Who cries, presumptuous, "Here their tides shall stay, [shore, Swept in their anger from the affrighted With all his creatures sink-to rise no more!

To-night, my friend, within this humble

cot

Be the dead load of mortal ills forgot In timely sleep; and when at break of day,

On the tall peaks the glistening sunbeams play, [new, With lighter heart our course we may reThe first whose footsteps print the mountain dew.

LINES

Left upon a seat in a yew-tree, which stands near the Lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect.

NAY, traveller! rest. This lonely yew-tree stands

Far from all human dwelling: what if here No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?

What if these barren boughs the bee not loves? [waves, Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind

By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.

Who he was

That piled these stones, and with the
mossy sod
[tree
First covered o'er, and taught this aged
With its dark arms to form a circling bower
I well remember.-He was one who owned
No common soul. In youth by science
nursed,

And led by nature into a wild scene
Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth
A favoured being, knowing no desire
Which genius did not hallow,-'gainst the
[hate,

taint

Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and And scorn,-against all enemies prepared, All but neglect. The world, for so it thought,

Owed him no service: wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away,
And with the food of pride sustained his
soul
[boughs
In solitude. - Stranger! these gloomy
Had charms for him; and here he loved
to sit,

His only visitants a straggling sheep,
The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper:
And on these barren rocks, with fern and
heath,

I read, and loved the books in which I read; For books in every neighbouring house I sought, [sure brought.

And nothing to my mind a sweeter plea

Can I forget what charms did once adorn My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,

And rose, and lily, for the Sabbath morn? The Sabbath bells, and their delightful chime ;

The gambols and wild freaks at shearing
time;
[scarce espied;
My hen's rich nest through long grass
The cowslip-gathering in June's dewy
prime;
[side.
The swans that, when I sought the water-
From far to meet me came, spreading their
snowy pride?

The staff I yet remember which upbore
The bending body of my active sire :
His seat beneath the honeyed sycamore
Where the bees hummed, and chair by
winter fire;

When market morning came, the neat attire
With which, though bent on haste, myself
I decked;
[ire,
My watchful dog, whose starts of furious
When stranger passed, so often I have
checked; [my casement pecked.
The redbreast known for years, which at

The suns of twenty summers danced
along,-
[away :
Ah! little marked how fast they rolled
But, through severe mischance, and cruel
wrong,

My father's substance fell into decay;
We toiled and struggled-hoping for a day
When fortune should put on a kinder look;
But vain were wishes-efforts vain as they ;
He from his old hereditary nook
Must part-the summons came our final
leave we took.

It was indeed a miserable hour [veyed,
When from the last hill-top, my sire sur-
Peering above the trees, the steeple tower
That on his marriage day sweet music
made!
[be laid,
Till then, he hoped his bones might there
Close by my mother in their native bowers.
Bidding me trust in God, he stood and
[in showers,

prayedI could not pray :-through tears that fell Glimmered our dear-loved home, alas! no longer ours.