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The small birds twitter,

The lake doth glitter,

field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,

Their heads never raising ; There are forty feeding like one!

Her suit no faltering scruples checked ;
Forth did she pour, in current free,
Tales that could challenge no respect
But from a blind credulity;
And yet a boon I gave her; for the Creature
Was beautiful to seema weed of glorious feature!

I left her, and pursued my way;
And soon before me did espy
A pair of little Boys at play,
Chasing a crimson buttertly:
The Taller followed with his hat in hand,
Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of

the land.

Like an army defeated
The Snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill

On the top of the bare hill ;
The Plough-boy is whooping-anon—anon:

There's joy in the mountains ;
There's life in the fountains ;
Small clouds are sailing,

Blue sky prevailing ;
The rain is over and gone!

The Other wore a rimless crown
With leaves of laurel stuck about;
And, while both followed up and down,
Each whooping with a merry shout,
In their fraternal features I could trace
Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliani's face.

Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit
For finest tasks of earth or air:
Wings let them have, and they might flit
Precursors of Aurora's Car,
Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween,
To hunt their Puttering game o'er rock and level


Yet are they here the same unbroken knot
Of human Beings, in the self-same spot!

Men, Women, Children, yea the frame

Of the whole Spectacle the same! Only their fire seems bolder, yielding light, Now deep and red, the colouring of night;

That on their Gipsy-faces falls,

Their bed of straw and blanket-walls. -Twelve hours, twelve bouvteous hours, are gone while I Have been a Traveller under open sky,

Much witnessing of change and cheer,

Yet as I left I find them here !
The weary Sun betook himself to rest.
-Then issued Vesper from the fulgent West,

Outshining like a visible God
The glorious path in which he trod.
And now, ascending, after one dark hour
And one night's diminution of her power,

Rehold the mighty Moon! this way

She looks as if at them--but they Regard not her :-oh better wrong and strife, ( By nature transient) than such torpid life;

Life which the very stars reprove

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 suffers them to be;
Wild outcasts of society!

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Before me as the Wanderer stood,
No boquet screened her from the heat;
Nor claimed she service from the hood
Of a blue mantle, to her feet
Depending with a graceful flow;
Only she wore a cap pure as unsullied snow.
Her skin was of Egyptian brown;
Haughty as if hier eye had seen
Ils own light to a distance thrown,
She towered-fit person for a Queen,
To head those ancient Amazonian files;
Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian Isles.

Where are they now, those wanton Boys ?
For whose free range the dædal earth
Was filled with animated toys,
And implements of frolic mirth;
With tools for ready wit to guide;
And ornaments of seemlier pride,
More fresh, more bright, than Princes wear;
For what one moment flung aside,
Another could repair;
What good or evil have they seen
Since I their pastime witnessed here,
Their daring wiles, their sportive cheer?
I ask-but all is dark between!
Spirits of beauty and of grace!
Associates in that eager cbase;
Ye, by a course to nature true,
The sterner judgment can subdue,

And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, He 'cross the ocean came.

With hues of genius on his cheek
Jo finest tones the Youth could speak.
-While he was yet a Boy,

moon, the glory of the sun, And streams that murmur as they run, Had been his dearest joy.

And waken a releuting smile
When she encounters fraud or guile;
And sometimes ye can charm away
The inward mischief, or allay,
Ye, who within the blameless mind
Your favourite seat of empire find!
They met me in a genial bour,
When universal nature breathed
As with the breath of one sweet flower,-
A time to overrule the power
Of discontent, and check the birth
Of thoughts with better thoughts at strife,
The most familiar bane of life
Since parting Innocence bequeathed
Mortality to Earth!
Soft clouds, the whitest of the

Sailed through the sky, the brooks ran clear;
The lambs from rock to rock were bounding;
With songs the budded groves resounding;
And to my heart is still endeared
The faith with which it then was cheered;
The faith which saw that gladsome pair
Walk through the fire with unsinged hair.
Or, if such thoughts must needs deceive,
Kind Spirits! may we not believe
That ibey, so happy and so fair,
Through your sweet intluence, and the care
of pilying Hcaven, at least were free
From touch of deadly injury?
Destined, whate'er their earthly doom,
For mercy and immortal bloom !

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.

Among the Indians he had fought; And with him many tales he brought Of pleasure and of fear; Such tales as told to any Maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, Were perilous to hear. He told of Girls—a happy rout! Who quit their fold with dance and shout, Their pleasant Indian Town, To gather strawberries all day long; Returning with a choral song When daylight is gone down. He spake of plants divine and strange That every hour their blossoms change, Ten thousand lovely bues' With budding, fading, faded flowers They stand the wonder of the bowers From morn to evening dews. He told of the Magnolia,' spread High as a cloud, high over head! The Cypress and her spire; -Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam? Cover a hundred leagues, and seem To set the hills on fire.

RUTH. When Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted Child, at her own will Went wandering over dale and hill, la thoughtless freedom bold. And she had made a Pipe of straw, And from that oaten Pipe could draw All sounds of winds and floods; lad built a Bower

upon the

green, As if she from her birth had been An Infant of the woods.

The Youth of green savannabs spake,
And many an endless, endless lake,
With all its fairy crowds
Of islands, that together lic
As quietly as spots of sky
Among the evening clouds.

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;
lle brought them from the Cherokees;
Tlie feathers nodded in the breeze,
And made a gallant crest.

And then he said, « How sweet it were
A fisher or a hunter there,
A gardener in the shade,
Still wandering with an easy mind
To build a household fire, and find
A home in every glade!

« What days and what sweet years! Ah me! Our life were lise indeed, with thee So passed in quict bliss,

From Indian blood you deem him sprung:
Ah no! he spake the Englisla tongue,
And bore a Soldier's name;

"Magnolia grandiflora.

: This splendid appearance of these scarlet flowers, which are scattered with such profusion over the Bills in the Southern parts of North America, is frequently mentioned by Bartram in bis Travels.

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And there she sang tumultuous songs,
By recollection of her wrongs,
To fearful passion roused.

Such small machinery as she turned
Ere she had wept, ere she had mourned,
A young and happy Child!

Yet sometimes milder hours she knew,
Nor wanted sun, por rain, nor dew,
Nor pastimes of the May,
—They all were with her in her cell;
And a wild brook with cheerful knell
Did o'er the pebbles play.

Farewell! and when thy days are told,
Ill-fated Ruth! in hallowed mould
Thy corpse shall buried be;
For thee a funeral bell shall ring,
And all the congregation sing
A Christian psalm for thee.

When Ruth three seasons thus had lain,
There came a respite to her pain;

She from her prison fled;
But of the Vagrant none took thought;

« With sacrifice before the rising morn And where it liked her best she sought

Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired; Her shelter and her bread.

And from the infernal Gods, mid shades forlorn,

Of night, my slaughtered Lord have I required : Among the fields she breathed again:

Celestial pily I again implore; —
The master-current of her brain

Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!»
Ran permanent and free;
And, coming to the banks of Tone,

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed
There did she rest, and dwell alone

With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands; Under the greenwood tree.

While, like the Sun emerging from a Cloud,

Her countenance brightens—and her eye expands; The engines of her pain, the tools

Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows; That shaped her sorrow, rocks and pools,

And she expects the issue in repose.
And airs that gently stir
The vernal leaves, she loved them still,

O terror! what hath she perceived 1-0 Joy!
Nor ever taxed them with the ill

What doth she look on ?- whom doth she behold? Which had been done to her.

Ber Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?

Bis vital presence-his corporeal mould? A Barn her winter bed supplies;

It is--if sense deceive her not- 't is He! But, till the warmth of summer skies

And a God leads him-winged Mercury! And summer days is gone, (And all do in this tale agree)

Mild Hermes spake—and touched her with his wand She sleeps beneath the greenwood tree,

That calms all fear, «Such grace hath crowned thy prayer, And other home hath none.

Laodamia! that at Jove's command

Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air : An innocent life, yet far astray!

He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space;
Aod Ruth will, long before her day,

Accept the gift, behold him face to face !»
Be broken down and old:
Sore aches she needs must have! but less

Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp; Of mind, than body's wretchedness,

Again that consummation she essayed; From damp, and rain, and cold.

But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp

often as that eager grasp was made. If she is pressed by want of food,

The Phantom parts--but parts to re-unite,
She from her dwelling in the wood

And re-assume his place before her sight.
Repairs 10 a road-side;
And there she becs at one steep place,

« Protesilàus, lo! thy guide is gone! Where up and down with easy pace

Confirm, I pray, the Vision with thy voice: The borsemen-travellers ride.

This is our Palace,-yonder is thy throne : That oaten Pipe of hers is mute,

Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.

Not to appal me bave the Gods bestowed
Or thrown away: but with a tlute

This precious boon, -and blest a sad Abode.»
Her loneliness she cheers:
This tute, made of a hemlock stalk,

« Great Jove, Laodamia! doth not leave
At evening in his homeward walk
The Quantock Woodman hears,

His gifts in perfect :-Spectre though I be,

I am not sent to scare thee or deceive; I, too, have passed her on the hills

But in reward of thy fidelity. Setting her little water-mills

And something also did my worth obtain ; By spouts and fountains wild

For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain. The Tone is a River of Somersetsbire, at no'great distance from the Quantock Hills. These Hills, wbich are alluded to a few Stan- That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand

« Thou know'st, the Delphic oracle foretold was below, are extremely beautiful, and in most places richly coTered with coppice woods.

Should die; but me the threat could not withhold:

A generous cause a Victim did demand;

Of all that is most beauteous—imaged there And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain;

In happier beauty; more pellucid streams, A self-devoted Chief— by Hector slaio.»

An ampler ether, a diviner air,

And fields invested with purpureal gleams; « Supreme of Heroes-bravest, noblest, best!

Climes which the Sun, who sheds the brightest day Thy matchless courage I bewail no more,

Earth knows, is all unworthy to survey.
Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest
By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore;

Yet there the Soul shall enter which hath earned
Thou found'st—and I forgive thee-bere thou art That privilege by virtue. « Ill,» said hc,
A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

« The end of man's existence I discerned,

Who from ignoble games and revelry « But thou, though capable of sternest deed,

Could draw, when we had parted, vain delight Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave;

While tears were thy best pastime,-day and night : And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed That thou should'st cheat the malice of the grave; « And while my youthful peers, before my eyes, Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair

(Each Hero following his peculiar beni) As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

Prepared themselves for glorious enterprise

By martial sports,-or, seated in the tent,
« No Spectre greets me,-no vain Shadow this: Chieftains and kings in council were detained ;
Come, blooming Hero, place thee by my side!

What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.
Givc, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss
To me, this day, a second time thy bride!»

« The wished-for wind was given :-1 then revolved Jove frowned in heaven; the conscious Parcæ threw The oracle, upon the silent sea ; Upon those roseate lips a Stygian bue.

And, if no wortbier led the way, resolved

That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be « This visage tells thee that my doom is past :

The foremost prow in pressing to the strand, -
Know, virtue were not virtue if the joys

Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.
Of sense were able to return as fast
And surely as they vanish. -Earth destroys

« Yet bitter, oft-times bitter, was the pang Those raptures duly-Erebus disdains :

When of thy loss I thought, beloved Wife! Calm pleasures there abide--majestic pains.

On thee too fondly did my meinory hang,

And on the joys we shared in mortal life, « Be taught, O faithful Consort, to control

The paths which we had trod- these fountains, flowers, Rebellious passion : for the Gods approve

My new-planned Cities, and unfinished Towers.
The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul;
A fervent, not ungovernable love.

« But should suspense permit the Foe to cry, Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn

* Behold they tremble!-haughty their array, When I depart, for brief is my sojourn— »

Yet of their number no one dares to die!'

In soul I swept the indignity away: « Ah, wherefore?-Did not Hercules by force

Old frailties then recurred :--but lofty though, Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb

In act embodied, my deliverance wrought. Alcestis, a reanimated Corse, Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? « And thou, though strong in love, art all too weak Medca's spells dispersed the weight of years,

In reason, in self-government too slow; And son stood a Youth 'mid youthful peers.

I counsel thee by fortitude to seek

Our blest re-union in the shades below. « The Gods to us are merciful-and they

The invisible world with thee hath sympathized;
Yet further may relent: for mightier far

Be thy affections raised and solemnized.
Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway
Of magic potent over sun and star,

« Learn by a mòrtal yearning to ascend Is love, though oft to agony distrest,

Towards a higher object. --Love was giveo,
And though his favourite seat be feeble Woman's breast. Encouraged, sanctioned, cbietly for that ead:

For this the passion to excess was driven
« But if thou go'st I follow-» « Peace!» he said That self might be annulled; her bondage prore
She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered ; The fetters of a dream, opposed to love.»
The chastly colour from his lips had fled;
In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared Aloud she shricked! for Hermes re-appears!
Elysian beauty, melancholy grace,

Round the dear Shade she would have clung-iis vain, Brought from a pensive though a happy place. The hours are past—too brief had they been years;

And him no mortal effort can detain : He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel

Swift, cow'rd the realms that know not earthly day, In worlds whose course is equable and pure;

He through the portal takes his silent way,
No fears to beat away-po strife to heal -

And on the palace floor a lifeless corse she lay.
The past unsighed for, and the future sure;
Spake of heroic arts in graver mood

By no weak pity might the Gods be moved ;
Revived, with tiner harmony pursued:

She who thus perished not without the crime

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