Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Of everlasting Spring. S. II. VII. I KNOW an aged Man constrained to dwell When he could creep about, at will, though poor There, at the root of one particular tree, Dear intercourse was theirs, day after day; Months passed in love that failed not to fulfil, Thus in the chosen spot a tie so strong That when his fate had housed him mid a throng The Captive shunned all converse proffered there. Wife, children, kindred, they were dead and gone ; One living Stay was left, and on that one O that the good old Man had power to prove, 1846. VIII. SONNET. (TO AN OCTOGENARIAN.) AFFECTIONS lose their object; Time brings forth If love exist no longer, it must die,- To thousands, share not Thou; howe'er bereft, One to whom Heaven assigns that mournful part The utmost solitude of age to face, Still shall be left some corner of the heart Where Love for living Thing can find a place. 1846. IX. FLOATING ISLAND. [My poor sister takes a pleasure in repeating these verses, which she composed not long before the beginning of her sad illness.] These lines are by the Author of the Address to the Wind, &c. published heretofore along with my Poems. The above tu a Redbreast are by a deceased female Relative. HARMONIOUS Powers with Nature work Once did I see a slip of earth (By throbbing waves long undermined) Loosed from its hold; how, no one knew, But all might see it float, obedient to the wind; Might see it, from the mossy shore Float with its crest of trees adorned On which the warbling birds their pastime take. Food, shelter, safety, there they find; ト And thus through many seasons' space This little Island may survive; But Nature, though we mark her not, Perchance when you are wandering forth Upon some vacant sunny day, Without an object, hope, or fear, Thither your eyes may turn the Isle is passed away; Buried beneath the glittering Lake, Its place no longer to be found; D. W. X. How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high A brightening edge will indicate that soon Break forth,-again to walk the clear blue sky. XI. ["No faculty yet given me to espy The dusky Shape within her arms imbound." Afterwards, when I could not avoid seeing it, I wondered at this, and the more so because, like most children, I had been in the habit of watching the moon through all her changes, and had often continued to gaze at it when at the full, till half blinded.] 'Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, Percy's Reliques. ONCE I could hail (howe'er serene the sky) The dusky Shape within her arms imbound, Which some have named her Predecessor's ghost. Young, like the Crescent that above me shone, I saw (ambition quickening at the view) |