« AnteriorContinua »
The matted sedge ; a second, as she swims,
These are the tawny Dryads, who love nooks
They tend all forests old, and meeting trees, Wood, copse, or queach, or slippery dell o’erhung With firs, and with their dusty apples strewn; And let the visiting beams the boughs among, And bless the trunks from clingings of disease And wasted hearts that to the night-wind groan.
They screen the cuckoo when he sings; and teach
The mother blackbird how to lead astray
The unformed spirit of the foolish boy
When he would steal the huddled nest away
Of yellow bills, up-gaping for their food,
Help the bruised hedgehog. And at rest, they love
Whose louder song is like the voice of life,
poor, a pensive, yet a happy one,
* This passage respecting the nightingale is not altogether “ in keeping, " (to use a painter's phrase), nor, indeed, are some others of this fragment; but the author retained them partly to introduce the passage itself; and in behalf of the latter he bespeaks the reader's indulgence, for a reason which the sensibility of true taste will allow him; namely, that the image is a copy from life, and from his mother.
NYMPHS OF THE FOUNTAINS.-A SKETCH.
'Tis there the Ephydriads haunt;- there, where a gap Betwixt a heap of tree-tops, hollow and dun,
Shews where the waters run,
And whence the fountain's tongue begins to lap.