No strife disturbs his sister's breast;
She wars not with the mystery
Of time and distance, night and day,
The bonds of our humanity.

Her joy is like an instinct, joy
Of kitten, bird, or summer fly;
She dances, runs without an aim,
She chatters in her ecstasy.

Her brother now takes up the note,
And echoes back his sister's glee;
They hug the infant in my arms,
As if to force his sympathy.

Then settling into fond discourse,
We rested in the garden bower;
While sweetly shone the evening sun,
In his departing hour.

We told o'er all that we had done,-
Our rambles by the swift brook's side
Far as the willow-skirted pool,
Where two fair swans together glide.

We talked of change, of winter gone,
Of green leaves on the hawthorn spray,
Of birds that build their nests and sing,
And "all since mother went away!"

To her these tales they will repeat,
To her our new-born tribes will show,
The goslings green, the ass's colt,
The lambs that in the meadow go.

-But, see, the evening star comes forth
To bed the children must depart;

A moment's heaviness they feel,
A sadness at the heart:

'Tis gone--and in a merry fit

They run up stairs in gamesome race;
I too, infected by their mood,
I could have joined the wanton chase.

Five minutes past and oh the change!
Asleep upon their beds they lie;
Their busy limbs in perfect rest,
And closed the sparkling eye.

W

LUCY GRAT; OR, SCÍTIDL

Ory I had heard of Lucy Smy:
And, when I asset me whit
I chanced to see an break of day,
The sorsary entid

No mate, no comrade, Lucy knew,
She dreis on a wide moer,

--The sweetest thing than ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play.
The hare apon the green :
But the sweet face of Lacy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"Tonight will be a stormy night—
You to the town must go;

Ani take a lantern, child, to Eight
Your mother through the snow."

"That, father, will I gladly do; Tis scarcely afternoon

The Minster clock has just struck two,

And yonder is the moon."

At this the father raised his hook

And snapped a faggot-band;

He plied his work;- and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blyther is the mountain roe :

With many a wanton stroke

Her feet disperse the powdery snow,

That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time:

She wandered up and down;

And many a hill did Lucy climb;

But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night

Went shouting far and wide;

But there was neither sound nor sight

To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood
That overlooked the moor;

And thence they saw the bridge of wood
A furlong from their door.

And, turning homeward, now they cried,
"In heaven we all shall meet!"
-When in the snow the mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downward from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn-hedge,
And by the long stone-wall:

And then an open field they crossed:
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost;
And to the bridge they came.

They followed from the snowy bank
The footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none !

-Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child;

That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild.

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,

And never looks behind;

And sings a solitary song

That whistles in the wind.

VIII.

ALICE FELL; OR, POVERTY.

THE post-boy drove with fierce career,
For threatening clouds the moon had drowned;
When suddenly I seemed to hear

A moan, a lamentable sound.

As if the wind blew many ways

I heard the sound,-and more and more.

It seemed to follow with the chaise,
And still I heard it as before.

At length I to the boy called out;
He stopped his horses at the word;
But neither cry, nor voice, nor shout,
Nor aught else like it could be heard.

The boy then smacked his whip, and fast
The horses scampered through the rain;
And soon I heard upon the blast
The voice, and bade him halt again.

Page

Incident characteristic of a Favourite Dog

Tribute to the Memory of the same Dog

...

...

"Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room"

Upon the Sight of a Beautiful Picture

"The fairest, brightest hues of ether fade"

"Weak is the will of man, his judgment blind

"Hail, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!"

"The shepherd, looking eastward, softly said "

"How sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks "

"Where lies the land to which you ship must go

"Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress "

"Mark the concentrated hazels that enclose

"Dark, and more dark, the shades of evening fell "

"These words were uttered in a pensive mood"

"Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy lord "

To the Poet John Dyer

...

"With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh

To the River Duddon

"The world is too much with us; late and soon

"Calm is all nature as a resting wheel"

"Earth has not anything to show more fair"

"Pelion and Ossa flourish side by side"

"Brook! whose society the poet seeks "

Admonition

"Beloved vale!' I said, 'when I shall con

"Methought I saw the footsteps of a throne "

"Surprised by joy-impatient as the wind"

"It is a beauteous evening, calm and free

"What need of clamorous bells or ribbons gay'

On approaching Home after a Tour in Scotland

"From the dark chambers of dejection freed "

To the Memory of Raisley Calvert

Sonnets dedicated to Liberty.

"Fair star of evening, splendour of the west "

"Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind "

"Jones! when from Calais southward you and I"

"I grieved for Buonaparte, with a vain"

"Festivals have I seen that were not names"

On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic

The King of Sweden

...

221

221

221

222

222

222

223

223

...

"Dear fellow-traveller, here we are once more

"Inland, within a hollow vale, I stood "

Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland

"O friend! I know not which way I must look "

"Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour"

"Great men have been among us; hands that penned

"It is not to be thought of that the flood"

"When I have borne in memory what has tamed "

"One might believe that natural miseries"

"There is a bondage which is worse to bear"

"These times touch moneyed worldlings with dismay

"England! the time is come when thou shouldst wean'

"When, looking on the present face of things

To the Men of Kent

"Six thousand veterans practised in war's game

"Shout, for a mighty victory is won

Sonnets dedicated to Liberty,

FROM 1807 TO 1813.

On a Celebrated Event in Ancient History

Upon the same Event

To Thomas Clarkson

A Prophecy

"Not 'mid the world's vain objects that enslave"

"I dropped my pen, and listened to the wind "

Hôffer

"Advance! come forth from thy Tyrolean ground"

Feelings of the Tyrolese

"Alas! what boots the long, laborious quest

"And is it among rude untutored dales "

"O'er the wide earth, on mountain and on plain "

On the Final Submission of the Tyrolese

"Hail, Zaragoza! if with unwet eye"

"Say, what is honour? "Tis the finest sense'

"The martial courage of a day is vain "

"Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight"

"Call not the royal Swede unfortunate"

"Look now on that adventurer who hath paid "

"Is there a power that can sustain and cheer"

"Ah! where is Palafox? Nor tongue nor pen

"In due observance of an ancient rite"

Feelings of a Noble Biscayan at one of these Funerals

The Oak of Guernica

Indignation of a high-minded Spaniard