Of winds and elements on thy head will break, And in thy agonising ear the shriek, Of spirits howling on their stormy car, Will often ring appalling-I portend A dismal night-and on my wakeful bed Thoughts, Traveller, of thee, will fill my head, And him, who rides where wind and waves contend, HENRY KIRKE WHITE. ODE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLVI. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By Fairy hands their knell is rung, COLLINS 7 DESCRIPTION OF SPRING. THE Soote season that bud and bloome forth bringes, The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. EARL OF SURREY. SONNET. DEAR Chorister, who from those shadows sends And long, long sing) for what thou thus complains, With trembling wings sigh'd forth, I love, I love. DRUMMOND. SONNET TO A BROOK NEAR THE VILLAGE OF CORSTON. As thus I bend me o'er thy babbling stream Like the far forest by the moon's pale beam |