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When windows flap, and chimney roars, And all is dismal out of doors ; And, sitting by my fire, I see Eight sorry Carts, no less a train! Unworthy Successors of thee, Come straggling through the wind and rain : And oft, as they pass slowly on, Beneath my window – one by one See, perched upon the naked height The summit of a cumbrous freight, A single Traveller — and, there, Another - then perhaps a Pair – The lame, the sickly, and the old ; Men, Women, heartless with the cold ; And Babes in wet and starveling plight; Which once, be weather as it might, Had still a nest within a nest, Thy shelter - and their Mother's breast ! Then most of all, then far the most, Do I regret what we have lost ; Am grieved for that unhappy sin Which robbed us of good Benjamin:And of his stately Charge, which none Could keep alive when He was gone !
TO THE DAISY.
“ Her* divine skill taught me this,
Than all Nature's beauties can
In youth from rock to rock I went,
Most pleased when most uneasy ;
But now my own delights I make, My thirst at every rill can slake, And gladly Nature's love partake
Of thee, sweet Daisy !
When soothed a while by milder airs, Thee Winter in the garland wears That thinly shades his few grey hairs ;
Spring cannot shun thee; Whole summer fields are thine by right; And Autumn, melancholy Wight ! Doth in thy crimson head delight
: When rains are on thee.
In shoals and bands, a morrice train, Thou greet'st the Traveller in the lane ; If welcomed once thou count’st it gain;
Thou art not daunted, Nor car’st if thou be set at naught: And oft alone in nooks remote We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,
When such are wanted. VOL.
Be Violets in their secret mews
Her head impearling ;
The Poet's darling.
If to a rock from rains he fly,
Near the green holly, i
A hundred times, by rock or bower,
Some apprehension ;
Some steady love ; some brief delight;
Or stray invention
If stately passions in me burn,
A lowlier pleasure ;
Of hearts at leisure.
When, smitten by the morning ray,
With kindred gladness :