TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY. AN ALLEGORY. On the wide level of a mountain's head, That far outstripp'd the other; O'er rough and smooth with even step he pass'd, ABSENCE. A FAREWELL ODE ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. WHERE graced with many a classic spoil I haste to urge the learned toil That sternly chides my love-lorn song: Ah me! too mindful of the days Illumed by Passion's orient rays, When Peace, and Cheerfulness, and Health Enriched me with the best of wealth. Ah fair Delights! that o'er my soul What though she leave the sky unblest EPITAPH ON AN INFANT. ERE Sin could blight or Sorrow fade, SONGS OF THE PIXIES. THE PIXIES, in the superstition of Devonshire, are a race of beings invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small distance from a village in that county, half way up a wood-covered hill, is an excavation called the Pixies' Parlour. The roots of old trees form its ceiling; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the Author discovered his own and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of their childhood. At the foot of the hill flows the river Otter. To this place the Author, during the summer months of the year 1793, conducted a party of young ladies; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was proclaimed the Faery Queen. On which occasion the following Irregular Ode was written. I. WHOм the untaught Shepherds call Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note Builds its nest and warbles well; Here the blackbird strains his throat; Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. II. When fades the moon to shadowy-pale, Or sport amid the shooting gleams While lusty Labour scouting sorrow III. But not our filmy pinion We scorch amid the blaze of day, Aye from the sultry heat We to the cave retreat O'ercanopied by huge roots intertwined With wildest texture, blackened o'er with age: Round them their mantle green the ivies bind, Beneath whose foliage pale Fanned by the unfrequent gale We shield us from the Tyrant's mid-day rage. IV. Thither, while the murmuring throng As round our sandy grot appear Weaving gay dreams of sunny-tinctured hue O'er his hush'd soul our soothing witcheries shed V. When Evening's dusky car Crowned with her dewy star Steals o'er the fading sky in shadowy flight; We tremble to the breeze Veiled from the grosser ken of mortal sight. Along our wildly-bowered sequestered walk, The glance, that from the half-confessing eye VI. Or through the mystic ringlets of the vale Then with quaint music hymn the parting gleam |