What balmy sweets Pomona breathes around! But if the vext air rush a stormy stream Or Autumn's shrill gust moan in plaintive sound, With fruits and flowers she loads the tempest-honor'd ground. THE SILVER THIMBLE THE PRODUCTION OF A YOUNG LADY, ADDRESSED TO THE AUTHOR OF THE POEMS ALLUDED TO IN THE PRECEDING EPISTLE She had lost her Silver Thimble, and her complaint being accidentally overheard by him, her Friend, he immediately sent her four others to take her choice of. As oft mine eye with careless glance Giants and Dwarfs, and Fiends and Beyond the rest with more attentive care I've loved to read of elfin - favoured Fair How if she long'd for aught beneath the You much perplex'd me by the various O Bard! whom sure no common Muse 52 REFLECTIONS ON HAVING LEFT A PLACE OF RETIREMENT Those wounds, which erst did poor (Hallowing his Sabbath-day by quiet And preach'd of Penitence by Jordan's Then eyed our Cottage, and gazed round Flood; On War; or else the legendary lays In simplest measures hymn'd to Alla's praise; Or what the Bard from his heart's inmost stores O'er his Friend's grave in loftier numbers pours: 60 again. And sighed, and said, it was a Blessed Place. And we were blessed. Oft with patient ear Long-listening to the viewless sky-lark's note (Viewless, or haply for a moment seen Yes, Bard polite! you but obey'd the Gleaming on sunny wings) in whispered Our myrtles blossom'd; and across the Now winding bright and full, with naked eye. cots, and hamlets, and faint cityspire ; It was a spot which you might aptly call The Channel there, the Islands and white Dim coasts, and cloud-like hills, and My spirit shall revisit thee, dear Cot! Thy jasmin and thy window-peeping shoreless Ocean It seem'd like Omnipresence! God, methought, Had built him there a Temple: the whole World Seemed imaged in its vast circumference: No wish profaned my overwhelmed heart. Blest hour! It was a luxury,-to be! 41 Does it but half he chills me while he Yet thou more bright than all the Angel fight True impress each of their creating Sire! Of science, freedom, and the truth in Yet nor high grove, nor many-colour'd fa Christ. Yet oft when after honourable toil Rests the tired mind, and waking loves to dream, mead, God" Beatly 101 It soul to its identity won & growth Lovely was the death Of Him whose life was Love! with power Treading beneath their feet all visible things 51 As steps, that upward to their Father's throne Lead gradual-else nor glorified nor loved. They nor contempt embosom nor re venge : For they dare know of what may seem deform The Supreme Fair sole operant : in whose sight All things are pure, his strong controlling love Alike from all educing perfect good. Their's too celestial courage, inly armed He on the thought - benighted Sceptic Dwarfing Earth's giant brood, what time beamed Manifest Godhead, melting into day Broke and misshaped the omnipresent And marching onwards view high o'er And first by Fear uncharmed the drowsed Till of its nobler nature it 'gan feel Strong to believe whate'er of mystic The Eternal dooms for His immortal sons. their heads His waving banners of Omnipotence. Who the Creator love, created Might For they are holy things before the Aye unprofaned, though Earth should From Hope and firmer Faith to perfect God's altar grasping with an eager hand Attracted and absorbed and centered Fear, the wild-visaged, pale, eye-starting |