The blackbird's note comes mellower With those he loves he shares the Of heartfelt joy giving thanks to God, not thanks of form, A word and a grimace, but reverently, With covered face and upward earnest eye. Hail, Sabbath! thee I hail, the poor man's day: The pale mechanic now has leave to breathe The morning air, pure from the city's smoke; While wandering slowly up the riverside, He meditates on Him whose power he marks In each green tree that proudly spreads the bough, As in the tiny dew-bent flowers that bloom Around the roots. ELINOR GRAY. ISOLATION. WE walk alone through all life's va- | We cannot reach them, and in vain rious ways, Through light and darkness, sorrow, THOMAS GRAY. ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-| Save that from yonder ivy-mantled The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, For them no more the blazing hearth | Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre: e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour,The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatte: y soothe the dull cold ear of death? But knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; Chill penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul. Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to de- To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, eyes, Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed Their growing virtues, but their And shut the gates of mercy on man- The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to misery all he had, a tear, He gained from Heaven, 't was all he wished, a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose.) The bosom of his Father and his God. ODE ON THE SPRING. Lo! where the rosy-bosomed hours The untaught harmony of spring: While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky Their gathered fragrance fling. Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease reclined in rustic state) Still is the toiling hand of Care; And float amid the liquid noon: Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some show their gaily-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the sun. To Contemplation's sober eye In fortune's varying colors drest: Brushed by the hand of rough mis chance Or chilled by age, their airy dance Methinks I hear in accents low Thy joys no glittering female meets, THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE. SMILES on past Misfortune's brow Soft Reflection's hand can trace, And o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw A melancholy grace; While hope prolongs our happier hour, | Or deepest shades, that dimly lower And blacken round our weary way, Gilds with a gleam of distant day. Still, where rosy Pleasure leads, See a kindred Grief pursue; Behind the steps that Misery treads Approaching Comfort view: The hues of bliss more brightly glow Chastised by sabler tints of woe, And blended form, with artful strife, The strength and harmony of life. See the wretch that long has tost And breathe and walk again: |