THE OAK AND THE BROOM. A PASTORAL. HIS simple truths did Andrew glean A careful student he had been One winter's night, when through the trees "I saw a crag, a lofty stone As ever tempest beat! Out of its head an Oak had grown, A Broom out of its feet. The time was March, a cheerful noon The thaw-wind with the breath of June, Breathed gently from the warm south-west: 'Eight weary weeks, through rock and clay, Along this mountain's edge, The frost hath wrought both night and day, Wedge driving after wedge. Look up and think, above your head What trouble surely will be bred; 'You are preparing, as before, And yet, just three years back-no more- Down from yon cliff a fragment broke; This ponderous block was caught by me, "The thing had better been asleep, Or breeze, or bird, or dog, or sheep, To come and slumber in your bower; And, trust me, on some sultry noon, 'From me this friendly warning take’— 'My thanks for your discourse are due; For me, why should I wish to roam? This spot is my paternal home, It is my pleasant heritage; My father, many a happy year, Here spread his careless blossoms, here 'E'en such as his may be my lot. On me such bounty Summer pours, "The butterfly, all green and gold, When grass is chill with rain or dew, And the sweet joy, which they partake, It is a joy to me.' "Her voice was blithe, her heart was light; The Broom might have pursued Her speech, until the stars of night Their journey had renew'd: But in the branches of the Oak Two ravens now began to croak And to her own green bower the breeze That instant brought two stripling bees, "One night, my children, from the North At break of day I ventured forth, The storm had fall'n upon the Oak, The little careless Broom was left THE REDBREAST AND THE BUTTERFLY. ART thou the bird whom man loves best, The bird that comes about our doors And Russia far inland? The bird, whom by some name or other, If the butterfly knew but his friend, Under the branches of the tree, In and out, he darts about; Can this be the bird, to man so good, That, after their bewildering, Did cover with leaves the little children, So painfully in the wood? What ail'd thee, Robin, that thou couldst pursue A beautiful creature, That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky From flower to flower let him fly; "Tis all that he wishes to do. The cheerer thou of our in-door sadness, He is the friend of our summer gladness: *Paradise Lost, Book XI., where Adam points out to Eve the ominous sign of the eagle chasing "two birds of gayest plume," and the gentle hart and hind pursued by th enemy. And fly about in the air together; TO THE DAISY. WITH little here to do or see Thou unassuming common-place Oft do I sit by thee at ease, Loose types of things through all degrees, And many a fond and idle name A nun demure, of lowly port; Of all temptations; A queen in crown of rubies dress'd; A little Cyclops, with one eye The shape will vanish, and behold! I see thee glittering from afar ;— In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Who shall reprove thee ! Sweet flower! for by that name at last, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, That breath'st with me in sun and air, TO THE SAME FLOWER. BRIGHT flower, whose home is everywhere! And all the long year through, the heir Methinks that there abides in thee Giv'n to no other flower I see The forest thorough! Is it that man is soon depress'd? A thoughtless thing! who, once unblcst, Or on his reason, And thou wouldst teach him how to find A hope for times that are unkind, And every season? Thou wanderest the wide world about, Meek, yielding to th' occasion's call, In peace fulfilling. TO A SKY-LARK. UP with me! up with me, into the clouds ! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds ! With all the heavens about thee ringing. That spot which seems so to thy mind! Had I now the wings of a fairy, There is madness about thee, and joy divine Up with me, up with me, high and high, Joycus as morning, |