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Or hast been summoned to the deep, Thou, thou and all thy mates, to keep An incommunicable sleep.
I look for ghosts ; but none will force
My apprehensions come in crowds;
Beyond participation lie
WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT AT EVENING.
How richly glows the water's breast
Before us tinged with evening hues,
Such views the youthful Bard allure ;
-And let him nurse his fond deceit,
ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS.
I HAVE a boy of five years old ;
His face is fair and fresh to see ;
One morn we strolled on our dry walk,
My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
A day it was when I could bear
carth echoed to the feet Of lambs that bounded through the glade, From shade to sunshine, and as fleet From sunshine back to shade.
Birds warbled round me-and each trace
My boy beside me tripped, so slim
“ Now tell me,
rather be,” I said, and took him by the arm, “ On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm ?”
In careless mood he looked at me,
“Now, little Edward, say why so :
“For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm :
At this, my boy hung down his head,
His head he raised—there was in sight,
Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
O dearest, dearest boy! my heart
THE NORMAN BOY.
HIGH on a broad unfertile tract of forest-skirted
Down, Nor kept by Nature for herself, nor made by man
From home and company remote and every playful
joy, Served, tending a few sheep and goats, a ragged
Him never saw I, nor the spot, but from an English
Dame, Stranger to me and yet my friend, a simple notice
came, With suit that I would speak in verse of that se
questered child Whom, one bleak winter's day, she met upon the
His flock, along the woodland's edge with relics
sprinkled o'er Of last night's snow, beneath a sky threatening the
fall of more,
Where tufts of herbage tempted each, were busy at
their feed, And the poor Boy was busier still, with work of
There was he, where of branches rent and withered
and decayed, For covert from the keen north wind, his hands a
but had made.