And now she flies on broad-spread wing, Far down the lonely vale; Where mists rise o'er the living spring, The nightbird wakes while others sleep, To seek her destin'd prey. 'Tis so supernal nature wills, And nature's law she thus fulfils. Shall we then start at each harsh note, 'Tis harmless as the mellow strain The woodlark pours in love's sweet reign. FURZE BLOSSOMS. (ULEX EUROPEUS.) GAY blossoms of the rugged heath, How brilliantly ye shine! Like gems of precious substance that Not in the cultur'd boundary, Your charms are shown, but generously So in the humble walks of life, And Worth in native dignity Seems lovelier far to view, Than Pride array'd in specious guise, Gay blossoms! beauteously ye hang Which simply form'd foundation finds But, oh! from nests so frail and low, From dwelling place as lowly, so And rose and soar'd, and shone at last Fame's brightest stars among. The mind inspir'd by nature boon, What limit shall restrain ? THE KINGFISHER. (ALCEDO HISPIDA.) WITH beauteous plumes and flight serene, See how the sun's enlivening ray From hue to hue, like magic, changing, So beauty in the rural shade Shines with unborrow'd grace array'd, Which charms of sweet attraction lend her, While none but artless airs attend her. And virtue so in humble state, THE TRAVELLER RETURNED. Look Nature through, 'tis revolution all. 'Tis twenty years since I was shown In guileless youth :-now to thine own 'Tis twenty years since last I saw The cot, my native home; 'Tis chang'd, alas! by Time's stern law, And wears an air of gloom. The trees that in the garden sprung, The friends I left, familiar friends, Where are they gone?-Ah! where? I look-the churchyard far extends; Their names are graven there. All, all are chang'd, or changing seem, Except the earth, the flowing stream, And in myself I see, I feel, The alteration wrought; My brow and locks the fact reveal, But there's a mansion rais'd above, Quick let Then Time press on, thine office ply, TO THE CRIMSON HEPATICA. (ANEMONE HEPATICA.) SWEET gem of Flora's earliest bower! And snows around are spread; Life buds in death's cold arms. |