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A MORNING EXERCISE.
FANCY, who leads the pastimes of the glad,
Becomes an echo of Man's misery.
Blithe ravens croak of death; and when the owl Tries his two voices for a favourite strain— Tu-whit-Tu-whoo! the unsuspecting fowl Forebodes mishap or seems but to complain; Fancy, intent to harass and annoy,
Can thus pervert the evidence of joy.
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray, Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
What wonder? at her bidding, ancient lays
The daisy sleeps upon the dewy lawn,
Hail, blest above all kinds !—Supremely skilled Restless with fixed to balance, high with low, Thou leav'st the halcyon free her hopes to build On such forbearance as the deep may show ; Perpetual flight, unchecked by earthly ties, Leav'st to the wandering bird of paradise.
*See Waterton's Wanderings in South America.
Faithful, though swift as lightning, the meek dove; Yet more hath Nature reconciled in thee;
So constant with thy downward eye of love,
So humble, yet so ready to rejoice
In power of wing and never-wearied voice!
How would it please old Ocean to partake,
Chanter by heaven attracted, whom no bars
Wert thou among them, singing as they shine!
A FLOWER GARDEN,
AT COLEORTON HALL, LEICESTERSHIRE.
TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, While fluttering o'er this gay Recess, Pinions that fanned the teeming mould Of Eden's blissful wilderness,
Did only softly-stealing hours
There close the peaceful lives of flowers?
Say, when the moving creatures saw
For the still growths that prosper here?
Or peeped they often from their beds
All summer-long the happy Eve
Of this fair Spot her flowers may bind,
Yet, where the guardian fence is wound,
No more than in some forest wild;
And, though the jealous turf refuse
And hither throngs of birds resort; Some, inmates lodged in shady nests, Some, perched on stems of stately port That nod to welcome transient guests; While hare and leveret, seen at play, Appear not more shut out than they.