Time was, blest Power! when youths and maids At peep of dawn would rise, And wander forth in forest glades Thy birth to solemnize. Though mute the song- to grace the rite Untouched the hawthorn bough, Thy Spirit triumphs o'er the slight; Thy feathered Lieges bill and wings Warmed by thy influence, creeping things Awake to silent joy: Queen art thou still for each gay plant Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath, Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath Where cities fanned by thy brisk airs Their puniest flower-pot nursling dares And if, on this thy natal morn, Yes! where Love nestles thou canst teach The soul to love the more; Hearts also shall thy lessons reach That never loved before. Stript is the haughty one of pride, Hush, feeble lyre! weak words refuse To yon exulting thrush the Muse Till the first silver star appear, LIFE. HAST thou seen, with flash incessant, Bubbles gliding under ice, Bodied forth and evanescent, No one knows by what device? Such are thoughts! —a wind-swept meadow Mimicking a troubled sea, Such is life; and death a shadow From the rock eternity! SONNET. ALAS! what boots the long laborious quest Than all the pride of intellect and thought? THE RAINBOW. My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, The Child is father of the Man; SONNET. WITH Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh, Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed; Some lying fast at anchor in the road, Some veering up and down, one knew not why. Come like a giant from a haven broad; When will she turn, and whither? She will brook WRITTEN IN MARCH, WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF BROTHER'S WATER. THE Cock is crowing, |