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Ballad--- Why is the Spanish maiden's O how art thou fallen, thou city of God 940
grave

446 O melancholy bird, a winter's day 396
Bloomfield, verses on
262, 358 Oo the death of lieut. Hood

403
British grenadiers, a song
40 Ona child playing

210
On the wings of the whirlwind

387
On an ivy leaf

Our slavery is finished, our labour is done 88
Cape of the Caba Rumia

164 Oxford prize poem
Carmen Natale

468
Clever idiot

122
Persian melodies

310, 465

Poet's thanks, by Barton
Echoes, by Prior

Pyramus and Thisbe, a ballad

469
Elegiac Stanzas, written by a stranger 165

140

191

Shepherd's son

366
Flower of Gnido

60
Signs of rain

488
Flowers, by Bernard Barton
331 Song---flower of beauty

456
Floating beacon
150 Song.--for thee, love, for thee, love

31
Forget ine not

302

Song of a fallen angel, imitation of Moore 41
Souod leapt from the tower

48
Song of the Children of Israel

88
Sonnet on seing an infant dead

228
Gipsy's prophecy

187
Sonnet on an infant Jove

319
Go dig ye a tomb

58
Song by Walter Scott

358
Stanza; to the head of Mempon

374
Sunday evening

443
Harp of Zion

340, 382
Harj) of the zephyr, whose last breath 424
Heads and tails

126
The last man, by Campbell

102
Heart's motto, forget me pot

The three mighty.

118
The Orphan

There is no smile to answer thine

265
Ii't were not for the splendid light

196

The deepest snow will drop away
I shed no tear, I heave no sigh

129 The ring you gave, the kiss you gave 292
I think on thee
187. 310

310
The heavens two

945 The dead babe
I was but a child when my father fell

311
245
The milkmaid, a fable

284
The Erl King

439
The orphan boy

414
Life insurance

128
The parting

456
Lines on the mausoleum of the princess The first bora

461
Charlotte

322 To a bird that baunted the waters 396
Lost Pleiad
Lord William, a Scottish song

ul

Unknown grave

302

165

165

403

169

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SPIRIT

OF THE

ENGLISH MAGAZINES.

BOSTON, OCTOBER 1, 1823.

(Blackwood's Mag.) AUTUMNAL MEDITATIONS.

Amid the stillness of an Autumn eve,
When, thus, the western sun his latest ray
Pours with a crimson lustre ; and the clouds,
Tinged with etherial glory, hang around
Jo many-colour'd masses, I delight,
With meditative step to roam the fields,
The woodland paths, and pause on rural slopes,
From which my gaze extends o'er far, wide vales,
And forests dim, and farins, and cottages,
From whose low hearths the pale blue smoke ascends.

Sacred to nusing is the Autumn eve,
And dear to tender thought. The summer's pride,
The gorgeous fields, and flowers of every tinct,
Have mellow'd, and have wither’d. Silently,
Across the aspect of terrestrial things,
The chilling change hath pinion'd its wide flight,
And all is alter'd : a wild sickliness
Pervares the face of nature : Evening's clouds
Are duskier ; Morning's sky less pure : the winds
More boisterously loud, and even the birds
Less joyous in their soft-toned, simple songs.

Scarcely a month bath past, since last I stood
Amid this scene, then fresh and beautiful ;
Its long fields waving with luxuriant grain ;
Its woods in rich variety attired ;
Its flowers of every hue, and perfume bland.-
Now shaven are the plains ; the sickle's sweep
Hath levell’d their tall beauty ; heard no more,
Under the still repose of even-tide,
The sweet sad warbling of the reaper's voice,
(Calling from distance recollected themes
Of his lone Celtic home, amid the hills,)
Steals on the wanderer's ear, as pensively,
With cheek on hand, o'er moss-grown pale he leans,
And, in the stillness, seems like a low dirge,
By Nature breathed in touching melody

The faded woods a sallow livery wear ;
Each leaf that quivers on the drooping spray,
Or, with the transient breeze-fit drops adown,
Speaking, in tones of deepest infuence,
Of the decay of all things, of the pomp

How passing ! and the changes of the earth.2 ATHENEUM VOL. 14.

In May, that fence was sprinkled with white flowers
Or hawthorn over-man tling every bough, :
And hiding the green beauty of the leaves :-
In June that chesnut shot its blossom'd spires
Of silver upward, 'mid the foliage dark,
As if some sylvan deity had hung •
Its dim umbrageousness with votive wreaths ;-
Over that turbid stream, from dark, moist rocks,
Descending in wild foam, the willow hangs
Its drooping boughs, half-leafless : pastoral flowers
Withering decline their languid heads : the haw,
Food for the small birds, 'mid the brumal dearth,
In redness decorates the yellowing bedge ;
The orange bipp o'er tops the eglantine ;
And from the bramble's lithe, and prickly boughs,
The wild rasp hangs in juicy ripeness black.

It is a lone and melancholy scene Of sickness, stillness, and forlorn decay ! A natural sermon to the heart of man, A beautiful memento of the grave !Lo! as I pass, from off the tall scathed ash The raven startled, takes to flight, and wings Its lonely way to the mid wood ; more deep Eve's shadow fall, till the green hills become Blue, and o'ermantled with a hazy tinct. The spaniel from my foot starts forth, as if Some sound had lured him, and, with fore-paws placed On rising turf, he stands : thence, with raised ears, Looks from th attentive : from the moors, dim-seen, Region of wild thyme, broom, and heather green, With wearied pointers twain, the sportsman comes ; His gun sloped o'er his shoulder, and his bag Heavy with slaughter'd game : On he pursues, With laggard step, his journey, travel-worn, And weary for the glittering star of home, The blazing hearth, where, o'er his evening meal, And cheering cup, of marvels he proclaims, Seen on the mountain, and of wondrous seats Perform'd; the covey scatter'd, and the hare Shot at far distance, 'mid the wither'd gorse. Over the rutted road the empty wane Homeward is driven ; and, at far intervals, Towards yon low village, wends the husbandman, Slow sauntering by :-With a wild, wailing shriek, Heard from above, the white-mew, with slow wing, Drops downward to the sea-shore, and is met On high, by wild-geese flock, on journey bent Far inland, flying wedge-wise, and drawn up In regular files, as if for marshall'd war. Well it accords, at such a pensive hour, When from the southern sky with beauteous beam Shines dewy Hesper ; and the far-off hills Have sombred all their tints of greenery, In solitude to ponder o'er the thoughts Of childhood, and of boyhood, and of youth, And all the magic of departed years To conjure up the brighi Elysian dreams That hovered round, and cheated the warm heart, (As in Arabia's central plains, the sands, Like waters gleam, mocking the pilgrim's eye ;) To see again the faces that around Life's path then throng'd, in sunny joyfulness, And now are scatter'd o'er the wide round world, Or, slumbering in the silence of the grave, Are to its murmurs deaf, its praises lost ;Well it accords, then, in a fond review, To summon forth the heart's long-banish'd loves, The young affections that decoy'd the soul,Beauty's warm check, and Friendship's laughing eye : In fond review to dwell upon the scenes

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