[THOMAS MOORE, was born in Dublin on the 28th of May, 1780. In 1799 he proceeded to London to study law, and to publish, by subscription, a translation of "Anacreon." In 1803 he obtained an official situation at Bermuda, the duties of which might be performed by proxy; but his deputy proved unfaithful, and the poet incurred heavy pecuniary losses. In 1813 Moore commenced his patriotic task of writing lyrics for the ancient music of his native country. His "Irish Melodies" display great fervour with melody of diction. In 1817 he produced an Eastern romance called "Lalla Rookh," which may be considered his most elaborate poem. In 1819 he accompanied Lord John Russell to the Continent. On his return from this tour he settled at Paris, where he remained till the year 1822. His latest imaginative work was the "Epicurean." His latter days were spent at a comfortable cottage near Devizes, Wilts. He died in 1852.] Of youth, and home, and that sweet time, When last I heard their soothing chime. Those joyous hours are passed away; And so 'twill be when I am gone; That tuneful peal will still ring on, MICHAEL: A PASTORAL POEM. BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, [WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, was born at Cockermouth, in the county of Westmoreland, on the 7th of April, 1770. He received his education at St. John's, Cambridge. Having finished his academical course, and taken his degree, he married his cousin, and took up his residence at Rydal Mount, among the lakes and mountains of Westmoreland. Through the patronage of Lord Lowther, he received, in 1814, the easy and lucrative situation of Distributor of Stamps, which left the greater portion of his time at his own disposal; and he was thereby enabled to indulge his love for poetry, which was with him almost the sole occupation of his life. In 1835 he received from Government a pension of 300l. a year; and was permitted to resign his situation of Stamp Distributor in favour of his son. In 1843, at the death of Southey, he was appointed Poet Laureate. He died, in his eighty-first year, on the 23d of April, 1850, and was buried in the quiet churchyard of Grasmere.] IF from the public way you turn your steps No habitation there is seen; but such As journey thither find themselves alone With a few sheep, with rocks and stones, and kites That ovcihicad are sailing in the sky. It is in truth an utter solitude; Nor should I have made mention of this dell But for one object which you might pass by, Might see and notice not. Beside the brook There is a straggling heap of unhewn stones! Is not unfit, I deem, for the fireside, Or for the summer shade. It was the first, For their own sakes, but for the fields and hills And hence this tale, while I was yet a boy, Of natural objects led me on to feel For passions that were not my own, and think (At random and imperfectly indeed) On man, the heart of man, and human life. Homely and rude, I will relate the same Upon the forest-side in Grasmere Vale And in his shepherd's calling he was prompt Hence he had learn'd the meaning of all winds, |