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142

THE EDUCATION OF NATURE.

"The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear

In many a secret place,

Where rivulets dance their wayward round,

And beauty, born of murmuring sound,
Shall pass into her face.

"And vital feelings of delight

Shall rear her form to stately height,

Her virgin bosom swell;

Such thoughts to Lucy I will give,

While she and I together live

Here in this happy dell."

Thus Nature spake; the work was done;

How soon my Lucy's race was run!

She died, and left to me

This heath, this calm and quiet scene;

The memory of what has been,

And never more will be!

WORDSWORTH.

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WORLD! O Life! O Time!

On whose last steps I climb,

Trembling at that where I had stood before, When will return the glory of your prime ?

No more--oh, never more!

144

THE POPLAR FIELD.

Out of the day and night

A joy has taken flight:

Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight

No more-oh, never more!

SHELLEY.

THE POPLAR FIELD.

THE poplars are felled; farewell to the shade,
And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade;
The winds play no longer, nor sing in the leaves,
Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives.

Twelve years have elapsed since I last took a view
Of my favourite field and the bank where they grew ;
And now in the grass behold they are laid,
And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade.

The blackbird has fled to another retreat,

Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat;
And the scene where his melody charmed me before,
Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.

My fugitive years are all hasting away,
And I must ere long lie as lowly as they,
With a turf on my breast and a stone at my head,

Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead.

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