The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark; * Oft when the winter-storm had ceas'd to rave, rise. Thence musing onward to the sounding shore, What time the lightning's fierce career began, ran. Responsive to the sprightly pipe when all In sprightly dance the village youth were join'd, Edwin, of melody aye held in thrall, From the rude gambols far remote reclin'd, Sooth'd with the soft notes warbling in the wind. When with the charm compar'd of heav'nly melancholy? FAREWELL ELEGY TO THE PLACE OF THE AUTHOR'S NATIVITY. CAREY. WITH burning bosom, and with tearful eyes, Much-lov'd retreats! where, in life's morn se rene, And heedless of its flight, I oft have stray'd; Mark'd the wild flowers that chequer'd all the scene, Or listen'd to the music of the shade ; Where I could wander yet with new delight, Would Fate, indulgent, listen to my prayer; Pipe in the grove, or scale the mountain's height, And think no shades so cool, no fields so fair. But Heav'n's high fiat is, that we must part; A tide of tenderness comes o'er my heart, Sighs swell my breast, and tears my eyes o'erflow. Here then, all melancholy, let me stop, A tear of sorrow o'er the sad review.― Sweet were the hours when, wak'd by morning's ray, The grove's full choir with holy rapture glow'd; And down the dewy vale I bent my way, To muse on nature, and on nature's God. And when the ev'ning came with dance and song, How lightly have I tript the dewy green, Whilst yellow moonlight play'd the trees among, And the breeze brought the fragrance of the bean! Laid in the lap of Flora, far from strife, Or roaming the bare waste, a shepherd swain, I scorn'd the lying vanities of life, Pomp, honour, power, an ever-cheating train! And Health and Peace, sweet soothers of our toil, Where'er I went, their cheering smile return'd; Whether I roam'd the shade, and pip'd the while, Or sought the dell where Philomela mourn'd. Oh! well I lov'd, where gleams the mountain lake, Unheard, unseen, at ev'ning hour to stray; There, as I pass'd, with silent step and slow, But chief I lov'd, beneath yon hallow'd shade, Where the clear stream with many a murmur flows, To rove with fair Amelia, sweetest maid! And braid her tresses with the full-blown rose. Ah, me! while ling'ring there in early life, And view her children with a parent's eyes! These are the flatt'ring visions I have prov'd ; These are the pleasures I no more shall share ; With all the blandishments of friends belov'd, Join'd to a parent's smile, a parent's care. Oh! sad reverse of all those dear delights! And frequent earthquakes desolate the land. And, see! the sun slow sinks in Ocean's bed, And warns me hence, ere Night, in solemn state, Come riding on her ebon car, to spread O'er all, a cloud dark as my future fate. Ah! then farewell all that my soul holds dear! 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD. MOIR. How sweet it is, in twilight shade, Return, and dwell upon the dead! The landscape glows with beauty still; With them the woful change is not- Or such as, still endued with life, G |