Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green. They dart across my path-but lo, Your Mother has had alms of mine." "That cannot be," one answered-" she is dead :"I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head. "She has been dead, Sir, many a day.""Hush, boys! you're telling me a lie; It was your Mother, as I say!" And, in the twinkling of an eye, "Come! Come!" cried one, and without more ado, Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew! XIX. SEQUEL TO THE FOREGOING, COMPOSED MANY YEARS AFTER. WHERE are they now, those wanton Boys? 1802. More fresh, more bright, than princes wear; For what one moment flung aside, Another could repair; What good or evil have they seen They met me in a genial hour, As with the breath of one sweet flower,— Of discontent, and check the birth Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife, Since parting Innocence bequeathed Soft clouds, the whitest of the year, Sailed through the sky-the brooks ran clear; The thoughts with which it then was cheered; Of pitying Heaven, at least were free 1817. XX. GIPSIES. [COMPOSED at Coleorton. I had observed them, as here described, near Castle Donnington, on my way to and from Derby.] YET are they here the same unbroken knot Their bed of straw and blanket-walls. -Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I Have been a traveller under open sky, Much witnessing of change and cheer, The weary Sun betook himself to rest ;— The glorious path in which he trod. Behold the mighty Moon! this way Regard not her:-oh better wrong and strife As on their silent tasks they move! Yet, witness all that stirs in heaven or earth! In scorn I speak not;-they are what their birth And breeding suffer them to be; Wild outcasts of society! 1807. XXI. RUTH. [WRITTEN in Germany. Suggested by an account I had of a wanderer in Somersetshire.] WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, And she had made a pipe of straw, Beneath her father's roof, alone She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; Herself her own delight; Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay; And, passing thus the live-long day, She grew to woman's height. There came a Youth from Georgia's shore A military casque he wore, With splendid feathers drest; He brought them from the Cherokees; And made a gallant crest. you From Indian blood deem him sprung: And, when America was free With hues of genius on his cheek In finest tones the Youth could speak: -While he was yet a boy, The moon, the glory of the sun, And streams that murmur as they run, Had been his dearest joy. He was a lovely Youth! I guess The panther in the wilderness Was not so fair as he; And, when he chose to sport and play, No dolphin ever was so gay Upon the tropic sea. |