If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free; COLONEL LOVELACE. 'I WANDERED LONELY.' I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, A host, of golden daffodils; Continuous as the stars that shine Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they In such a jocund company: I gazed-and gazed--but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie WORDSWORTH. HESTER WHEN maidens such as Hester die, A month or more hath she been dead, Her parents held the Quaker rule, A waking eye, a prying mind, My sprightly neighbour! gone before When from thy cheerful eyes a ray LAMB. TO EVENING IF aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, Thy springs, and dying gales; O Nymph reserved, while now the bright-hair'd sun With brede ethereal wove, O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat As oft he rises midst the twilight path, Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum :-- To breathe some soften'd strain, Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit; For when thy folding-star arising shows And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or, if chill blustering winds, or driving rain Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires; The gradual dusky veil. While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves; And rudely rends thy robes; So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name! W. COLLINS. THE SUN UPON THE WEIRDLAW HILL THE sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet; Bears those bright hues that once it bore ; Though evening, with her richest dye, Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore. |