Beauties of English Landscape

AMONG those joys, 't is one at eve to sail
On the broad River with a favourite gale;
When no rough waves upon the bosom ride,
But the keel cuts, nor rises on the tide;
Safe from the stream the nearer gunwale stands,
Where playful children trail their idle hands:
Or strive to catch long grassy leaves that float
On either side of the impeded boat;
What time the moon arising shows the mud,
A shining border to the silver flood.

CRABBE.

WHEN, in the south, the wan noon, brooding still,
Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill,
And shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen,
Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between ;
Gazing the tempting shades to them denied,
When stood the shortened herds amid the tide,
Where from the barren wall's unsheltered end
Long rails into the shallow lake extend.

WORDSWORTH.

When Fortune frowns and hopes deceive Thy answer was a blush and tear :

me,

And summer friends in sorrow leave me ;
A Timon, from the world I flee-
My wreck of wealth-sweet dreams of
thee!

Or if I join the careless crowd,

Where laughter peals and mirth grows loud,

Even in my hours of revelry,
I turn to thee-I turn to thee!

I think of thee-I think and sigh
O'er blighted years and bliss gone by;
And mourn the stern, severe decree,
That spared me only thoughts of thee!

But this was eloquence to me,

And more than I had ask'd of thee!

I look'd into thy dewy eye,
And echoed thy half-stifled sigh;

I clasp'd thy hand-and vow'd to be
The soul of love and truth to thee!

The scene and hour have pass'd—yet still Remains a deep impassion'd thrill;

A sunset glow on memory,

That kindles at each thought of thee!

We loved-how wildly and how well, 'T were worse than idle now to tell : From love and life alike thou 'rt free, And I am left to think of thee!

In Youth's gay spring, 'mid Pleasure's Though years-long years have darkly bowers,

Where all is sunshine, mirth, and flowers,

We met ;-I bent the adoring knee,

And told a tender tale to thee!

sped,

Since thou wert number'd with the dead,

In fancy oft thy form I see;

In dreams, at least, I'm still with thee!

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