XXXII. 'Tis but the church-yard of the night, An emblematic bed! That offers to the mental sight XXXIII. From hence I'll penetrate in thought XXXIV. 'Tis peace!---(The little chaos past!) XXXV. The nightingale, a welcome guest! And Hope, just wand'ring from my breast, XXXVI. Yes---When yon lucid orb is dark, And darting from on high, My soul, a more celestial spark! Shall keep her native sky. XXXVII. Fann'd by the light---the lenient breeze, My limbs refreshment find; And moral rhapsodies like these Give vigour to the mind. A LANDSCAPE. Rura mihi et irrigui piaceant in vallibus amnes. VIRG. I. Now that summer's ripen'd bloom II. Nature in the prospect yields Humble dales and mountains bold, Meadows, woodlands, heaths---and fields Yellow'd o'er with waving gold. Goats upon that frowning steep, Fearless, with their kidlings brouse; Here a flock of snowy sheep, There an herd of motley cows. IV. On the uplands, ev'ry glade Softens to an ev'ning grey. V. Where the rill by slow degrees Swells into a crystal pool, Shaggy rocks and shelving trees VI. Shiver'd by a thunderstroke From the mountain's misty ridge, O'er the brook a ruin'd oak Near the farm-house forms a bridge. VII. On her breast the sunny beam VIII. Where the ships by wanton gales Sweet to see their swelling sails IX. High upon the daisy'd hill, Rising from the slope of trees, How the wings of yonder mill Labour in the the busy breeze !-- X. Cheerful as a summer's morn,. Bouncing from her loaded pad, Where the maid presents her corn, XI. O'er the green a festal throng XII. Linnets on the crowded sprays Chorus---and the woodlarks rise, Soaring with a song of praise Till the sweet notes reach the skies. XIII. Torrents in extended sheets Down the cliffs dividing break; 'Twixt the hills the water meets, Settling in a silver lake. XIV. From his languid flocks the swain, XV. L Where the mantling willows nod From the green bank's slopy side, Patient, with his well-thrown rod Many an angler breaks the tide. XVI. On the isles, with osiers drest, Many a fair-plum'd halcyon breeds Many a wild bird hides her nest, XVII. Fork-tail'd prattlers, as they pass Seem to kiss the mimick'd flock. XVIII. Where the stone-cross lifts its head, Guardian of a sacred well, Arch'd beneath yon rev'rend shades, Whilom in that shatter'd cell Many an hermit told his beads. XX. Sultry mists surround the heath XXI. Turn to the contrasted scene, Where, beyond these hoary piles, Gay upon the rising green, Many an Attic building smiles. |