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Driven by the bomb's incessant thunder- I heard my neighbours in their beds, comstroke
plain To loathsome vaults, where heart-sick of many things which never troubled me ; anguish tossed,
[lost! Of feet still bustling round with busy glee ; Hope died, and fear itself in agony vas Of looks where common kindness had no
part : Some mighty gulf of separation past, Of service done with careless cruelty, I seemed transported to another world - Fretting the fever round the languid heart ; A thought resigned with pain, when from And groans, which, as they said, might the mast
make a dead man start. The impatient mariner the sail unfurled, And whistling, called the wind that hardly These things just served to stir the torpid curled
(of home The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts
sense, and from all hope I was for ever hurled.
Nor pain nor pity in my bosom raised. For me-farthest from earthly port to roam
With strength did memory return ; and, Was hest, could I but shun the spot where Dismissed, again on open day I gazed,
thence man might come.
At houses, men, and common light amazed. And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong) Came where beneath the trees a faggot
The lanes I sought, and as the sun retired, That I, at last, a resting-place had found; ** Here will I'dwell," said I, “my whole The travellers saw me weep, my fate in.
(quired, life long, Roaming the illimitable waters round :
Aud gave me food, -and rest, more welHere will I live, of every friend disowned,
come, more desired. And end my days upon the ocean flood.' To break my dream the vessel reached its They
with their panniered asses semblance
made bound :
(stood, And homeless near a thousand homes i of potters wandering on from door to door: And near a thousand tables pined, and But life of happier sort to me portrayed, wanted food.
And other joys my fancy to allure ;
The bag-pipe dinning on the midnight By grief enfeebled, was I turned adrift,
inoor, Helpless as sailor cast on desert rock ;
In barn uplighted, and companions boon Nor morsel to my mouth that day diá lift, Well met from far with revelry secure, Nor dared my hand at any door to knock. Among the forest glades, when jocund I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock Rolled fast along the sky his warm and
(genial moon. From the cross timber ofan out-house hung: Dismally tolled that night the city clock ! At mom my sick heart hunger scarcely But ill they suited me—those journeys dark stung,
(frame my tongue. O'er moor and mountain, midnight theft Nor to the beggar's language could I
to hatch !
To charm the surly house-dog's faithful So passed another day, and so the third : Or hang on tip-toe at the lifted latch. Then did I try in vain the crowd's resort. Thę gloomy lantern, and the dim blue -o deep despair, by frightful wishes match,
The black disguise, the warning whistle Near the sea-side I reached a ruined fort ; And ear still busy on its nightly watch, There pains, which nature could no more Were not for me, brought up in nothing ill; support,
(fall, Besides, on griefs so fresh my thoughts With blindness linked, did on my vitals were brooding still. And after many interruption: short Of hideous sense, I sank, nor step could What could I do, unaided and unblest ?
(recall. My father! gone was every friend of thine: Unsought for was the help that did my life And kindred of dead husband are at best
Small help ; and after marriage such as Borne to an hospital, I lay with brain
mine, Drowsy and weak, and shattered memory : | With little kindness would to me incline,
Ill was I then for toil or service fit : Foregone the home delight of constant truth With tears whose course no effort could And clear and open soul, so prized in confine,
fearless youth. By the roadside forgetful would I sit Whole hours, my dle arms in moping Three years ti us wandering, often have 1 sorrow knit.
In tears, the sun towards that country tend I led a wafdering life among the fields : Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude : Contentedly. yet sometimes self-accused, And now across this moor my steps I bend I lived upon what casual bounty yields, -Oh, tell me whither-for no earthly Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
[away. The ground ( for my bed have often Have I.-She ceased, and weeping iurned used :
As if because her tale was at an end But, what afflicts my peace with keenest She wept ; because she had no more to say ruth
Or that perpetual weight which on her spirit Is, that I have my inner self abused,
Poems Referring to the Period of Childhood.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky :
Or let me die !
TO A BUTTERFLY.
Pull the primrose, sister Anne !
Larking berries, ripe and red,
Round as a pillow and whiter than milk, Then will hang on every stalk,
And softer than if it were covered with silk. Each withir its leafy bower ;
Sometimes he'll hide in the cave of a rock, And for that promise spare the flower ! Then whistle as shrill as the buzzard cock ;
-Yet seek him, -and what shall you find
in the place ?
Nothing but silence and empty space ; CHARACTERISTICS OF A CHILD Save, in a corner a heap of dry leaves, THREE YEARS OLD.
That hes left, for a bed, to beggars or
thieves ! LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild ; And innocence hath privilege in her As soon as 'tis daylight, to-morrow, with me To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes ; You shall go to the orchard, and then you And seats of cunning i and the pretty round will see
(rout, Of trespasses, aftected to provoke
That he has been there, and made a great Mock-chastisement and partnershipin play. And cracked the branches, and strewn And, as a faggot sparkles on the hearth, them about ;
(upright twig Not less if unattended and alone
Heaven grant that he spare but that one Than when both young and old sit gathered That looked up at the sky so proud and big And take delighi in its activity, (round All last summer, as well you know, Even so this happy creature of herself Studded with apples, a beautiful show! Is all-sufficient ; solitude to her Is blithe society, who fills the air
Hark! over the roof he makes a pause, With gladness and involuntary songs. And growls as if he would fix his claws Light are her sallies as the tripping fawn's Right in the slates, and with a huge rattle Forth-startled from the fern where she lay Drive them down like men in a battle ; couched;
-But let him range round ; he does us no Unthought of, unexpected, as the stir
harm, Of the soft breeze ruffling the meadow! We build up the fire, we're snug and warm; flowers;
Untouched by his breath see the candle Or from before it chasing wantonly
shines bright, The many-coloured images impressed And burns with a clear and steady light : Upon the bosom of a placid lake
Books have we to read, but that half
stifled knell Alas!'tis the sound of the eight o'clock bell.
-Come now, we'll to bed and when we ADDRESS TO A CHILD DURING are there A BOISTEROUS WINTER He may work his own will and what shall EVENING.
He may knock at the door, -we ll not let him in ;
(his din; BY A FEMALE FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR. May drive at the windows, - we'll laugh at
Let him seek his own home wherever it be; What way does the wind come? What Here's a cozie warm house for Edward way does he go?
and me. He rides over the water and over the snow, Through wood, and through vale; and o'er rocky height,
THE MOTHER'S RETURN. Which the goat cannot climb takes his
BY THE SAME. sounding flight; He tosses about in every bare tree,
A MONTH, sweet little ones, is passed As, if you look up, you plainly may see ; Since your dear mother went away, But how he will come and whither he goes And she to-morrow will return; There's never a scholar in England knows. To-morrow is the happy day. He will suddenly stop in a cunning nook Oh, blessed tidings ! thought of joy! And ring a sharp 'larum !- but if you The eldest heard with steady glee; should look,
(snow Silent he stood ; then laughed amain. There's nothing to see but a cushion of And shouted, “Mother; come to me!"
Louder and louder did he shout,
LUCY GRAY;OR, SOLITUDE. “Nay, patience! patience, little boy! Your tender mother cannot hear."
OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moorNo strise disturbs his sister's breast:
The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
You yet may spy thfawn at play,
The hare upon the green; Her joy is like an instinct, joy
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
“ To-night will be a stormy night
You to the town must go;
Your mother through the snow."
“That, father, will I gladly do:
"Tis scarcely afternoonThen, settling into fond discourse,
The minster-clock has just struck two, We rested in the garden bower;
And yonder is the moon."
At this the father raised his hook,
And snapped a faggot band; Our rambles by the swift brook's side
He plied his work;--and Lucy took Far as the willow-skirted pool,
The lantern in her hand. Where two fair swans together glide.
Not blither is the mountain roe: We talked of change, of winter gone,
With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow,
The storm came on before its time:
And many a hill did Lucy climb;
But never reached the town. The lambs that in the meadow go.
The wretched parents all that night -But, see, the evening star comes forth!
Went shouting far and wide; To bed the children must depart;
But there was neither sound nor sight A moment's heaviness they feel,
To serve them for a guide. A sadness at the heart: 'Tis gone—and in a merry fit
At day-break on a hill they stood They run up stairs in gamesome race;
That overlooked the moor; I, too, infected by their mood,
And thence they saw the bridge of wond, I could have joined the wanton chase.
A furlong from their door. Five minutes past-and, oh, the change! They wept, and turning homeward, cried, Asleep upon their beds they lie;
" In heaven we all shall meet;" Their busy limbs in perfect rest,
When in the snow the mother spied And closed the sparkling eye.
The print of Lucy s feel.