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• Between the roaring blasts that shake • The naked alder at the door,
Though not one prattler to me speak, • Their sleeping sighs delight me more.
• Sound is their rest :-they little know
• Would it were so !- the fire burns bright,
• I'll look abroad !-'tis piercing cold !
• There shines a star !— welcome sight !-
Mercy, kind heaven ! such thoughts dispeis • No voice, no foot is heard around !
Perhaps he's near the haunted well ! • But Dapple knows each inch of ground.
• Distressing hour! uncertain fate !
Hark!—then I heard the distant gate,
• One minute now will ease my fears-
• Where have you stay'd ? put down your load ; • How have you borne the storm, the cold ? • What horrors did I not forbode• That beast is worth his weight in gold.'
Thus spoke the joyful wife ;-then ran
• What, all asleep !-so best; he cried : • O what a night I've travell’d through ! • Unseen, unheard, I might have died ; • But Heaven has brought me safe to you.
• Dear partner of my nights and days, • That smile becomes thee !-let us then
Learn, though mishap may cross our way, • It is not ours to reckon when.'
Halt! ye legions, sheathe your steel;
The plunging corpse, with half-clos'd eyes,
Then forth Britannia's thunder pours,
Albion Cliffs-from age to age,
SHOOTER'S HILL. HEALTH! I seek thee ;-dost thou love
The mountain-top, or quiet vale ; Or deign o'er humbler hills to rove
On showery June's dark south-west gale ? If so, I'll meet all blasts that blow,
With silent step, but not forlorn ; Though, goddess, at thy shrine I bow,
And woo thee each returning morn. I seek thee where, with all his might
The joyous bird his rapture tells, Amidst the half-excluded light
That gilds the fox-glove's pendant bells ; Where cheerly up the bold hill's side
The deep’ning groves triumphant climb : In groves Delight and Peace abide,
And Wisdom marks the lapse of time. To hide me from the public eye,
To keep the throne of Reason clear, Amidst fresh air to breathe or die,
I took my staff and wander'd here : Suppressing every sigh that heaves,
And coveting no wealth but thee, I nestle in the honied leaves,
And hug my stolen liberty.
O'er eastward uplands, gay or rude,
Along to Erith's ivied spire,
And cherish life's re-kindling fire.
Now trace the church-yard's humble nainas, Or climb brown heaths, abrupt that rise,
And overlook the winding Thames.
I love to mark the flow'ret's eye,
To rest where pebbles form my bed, Where shapes and colours scatter'd lie,
In varying millions round my head. The soul rejoices when alone,
And feels her glorious empire free Sees God in every shining stone,
And revels in variety.
Ah, me! perhaps within my sight,
Deep in the smiling dales below,
And all the rays of genius glow.
With power and will to say · Arise,'
And Want's foul picture from his eyes.
A worthier man by far than I,
With more of industry and fire, Shall see fair Virtue's meed pass by,
Without one spark of fame expire ! Bleed not, my heart-it will be so,
The throb of care was thine full long, Rise, like the Psalmist from his woe,
And pour abroad the joyful son.
Sweet Health, I seek thee! hither bring
Thy balm that softens human ills ; Come on the long-drawn clouds that fling
Their shadows o'er the Surrey Hills. Yon green-topp'd hills, and far away,
Where late as now I freedom stole, And spent one dear delicious day
On thy wild banks, romantic Mole.
Ay, there's the scene !* beyond the sweep
Of London's congregated cloud ;
And valley-paths without a crowd !
Thy thousand sails am proud to see :
Dwells Peace-and Peace is wealth to me.
Of Cambrian mountains still I dream,
And mouldering vestiges of war ;
Would rove,—but Prudence holds a bar.
My wishes to this airy stand;
The wonders of my native land.
Yet the loud torrent's dark retreat,
Yet Grampian hills shall Fancy give,
Amidst her own creation live,
Give strength of nerve and vigorous breath;
The deep solemnity of death.
This far-seen monumental tower
Records th' achievements of the brave
Who plunder'd on the eastern wave,
To point out where my bones are laid,
The comforts of its broad cool shade.
O Vanity! since thou’rt decreed
Companion of our lives to be,
An earthly immortality.
Rememb’ring what to man is given,
Whose glorious turrets reach to Heav'n.
the Box-hill, and the beautiful neighbourhood of Dorking, in Surrey.