1805. As lark or leveret, Thy long-lost praise thou shalt regain ; Art Nature's favourite.* VIII. TO THE SAME FLOWER. 1802. *See, in Chaucer and the elder Poets, the honours formerly paid to this flower. In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Bright Flower for by that name at last, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, That breath'st with me in sun and air, IX. THE GREEN LINNET. BENEATH these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather, In this sequestered nook how sweet One have I marked, the happiest guest In joy of voice and pinion! And this is thy dominion. While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, A Life, a Presence like the Air, Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, That cover him all over. |