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Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,

To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, Universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,

55 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark !



RETIRING TO REST. Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; 5 She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased; Now glow'd the firmament With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length

10 Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

When Adam thus to Eve: “Fair consort, the hour Of night, and all things now retired to rest, Mind us of like repose; since God hath set 15 Labour and rest, as day and night, to men Successive; and the timely dew of sleep, Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines Our eyelids : Other creatures all day long

Rove idle, unemploy'd, and less need rest;

20 Man hath his daily work of body or mind Appointed, which declares his dignity, And the regard of Heaven on all his ways; While other animals unactive range, And of their doings God takes no account. 25 To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be risen, And at our pleasant labour, to reform Yon flowery arbour, yonder alleys green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,

30 That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease; 35 Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest.”

To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd: “My author and disposer, what thou bidst Unargued I obey: So God ordains ; God is thy law, thou mine: To know no more Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. With thee conversing I forget all time; ‘All seasons, and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the sun, 45 When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful Evening mild; then silent Night, 50 With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,

40 55

And these the gems of Heaven her starry train:
But neither breath of Morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers ;
Nor grateful Evening mild; nor silent Night,
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.
But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom 60
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?”

To whom our general ancestor replied:
Daughter of God and Man, accomplish'd Eve,
These have their course to finish round the earth
By morrow evening, and from land to land 65
In order, though to nations yet unborn,
Ministering light prepared, they set and rise;
Lest total Darkness should by night regain
Her old possession, and extinguish life
In Nature and all things; which these soft fires 70
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat
Of various influence, foment and warm,
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow
On earth, made hereby apter to receive

75 Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, Shine not in vain ; nor think, though men were none, That Heaven would want spectators, God want praise: Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 80 Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep: All these with ceaseless praise his works behold Both day and night. How often from the steep

Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices, to the midnight air,

Sole, or responsive to each other's note,
Singing their great Creator! oft in bands
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk,
With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds
In full harmonic number join'd, their songs 90
Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to Heaven.”

Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd On to their blissful bower.



My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills
My father feeds his flock; a frugal swain,
Whose constant cares were to increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home.
For I had heard of battles, and I long'd
To follow to the field some warlike lord ;
And Heaven soon granted what my

sire denied.
This moon, which rose last night round as my shield,
Had not yet fill’d her horns, when, by her light,
A band of fierce barbarians from the hills

10 Rush'd like a torrent down upon the vale, Sweeping our Aocks and herds. The shepherds filed For safety and for succour. I alone, With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, Hover'd about the enemy, and mark'd

15 The road he took, then hasted to my friends ; Whom with a troop of fifty chosen men I met advancing. The pursuit I led,

Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumber'd foe.
We fought and conquer'd. Ere a sword was drawn, 20
An arrow from my bow had pierced their chief,
Who wore that day the arms which now I wear.
Returning home in triumph, I disdain'd
The shepherd's slothful life; and, having heard
That our good king had summond his bold peers, 25
To lead their warriors to the Carron side,
I left my father's house, and took with me
A chosen servant to conduct my steps,
Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master.
Journeying with this intent, I past these towers, 30
And, heaven directed, came this day to do
The happy deed that gilds my humble name.


Most potent, grave, and reverend Signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters,-
That I have ta’en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless’d with the set phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field;

10 And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself: yet, by your gracious patience,

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