The hearty grasp that sends a pleasant sonnet 29 Into the brain ere one can think upon it;/30 The silence when some rhymes are coming out; 3) And when they're come, the very pleasant rout:« The message certain to be done to-morrow. 3 'Tis perhaps as well that it should be to borrow Some precious book from out its snug retreat, 35 To cluster round it when we next shall meet. 3 Scarce can I scribble on : for lovely airs
Are fluttering round the room like doves in pairs; Many delights of that glad day recalling,
When first my senses caught their tender falling. 0 And with these airs come forms of elegance 41 Stooping their shoulders o'er a horse's prance, 2. Careless, and grand-fingers soft and round Parting luxuriant curls; and the swift bound. Of Bacchus from his chariot, when his eye Made Ariadne's cheek look blushingly. Thus I remember all the pleasant flow Of words at opening a portfolio.
Things such as these are ever harbingers To trains of peaceful images: the stirs //50 Of a swan's neck unseen among the rushes: 5/ A linnet starting all about the bushes: 52
A butterfly, with golden wings broad-parted, 53 Nestling a rose, convulsed as though it smarted 5" With over-pleasure-many, many more, 5 Might I indulge at large in all my store
Of luxuries: yet I must not forget
Sleep, quiet with his рорру coronet :
For what there may be worthy in these rhymes I partly owe to him: and thus, the chimes Of friendly voices had just given place To as sweet a silence, when I’gan retrace The pleasant day, upon a couch at ease. It was a poet's house who keeps the keys
65 Of Pleasure's temple-round about were hung The glorious features of the bards who sung In other ages-cold and sacred busts
Smiled at each other. Happy he who trusts 69 To clear Futurity his darling fame! 1170 Then there were fauns and satyrs taking aim At swelling apples with a frisky leap
And reaching fingers 'mid a luscious heap
Of vine-leaves. Then there rose to view a fane Of liney marble, and thereto a train
Of nymphs approaching fairly o'er the sward One, loveliest, holding her white hand toward The dazzling sun-rise; two sisters sweet Bending their graceful figures till they meet Over the trippings of a little child:
And some are hearing, eagerly, the wild Thrilling liquidity of dewy piping.
See, in another picture, nymphs are wiping 82 Cherishingly Diana's timorous limbs; 7
A fold of lawny mantle dabbling swims
At the bath's edge, and keeps a gentle motion 85 With the subsiding crystal: as when ocean 8 Heaves calmly its broad swelling smoothness o'er Its rocky marge, and balances once more The patient weeds, that now unshent by foam $9 Feel all about their undulating home. Sappho's meek head was there half smiling down 9/ At nothing; just as though the earnest frown 92 Of over-thinking had that moment gone 73 From off her brow, and left her all alone. 4
Great Alfred's too, with anxious, pitying eyes, 5
As if he always listen'd to the sighs
Of the goaded world; and Kosciusko's, worn By horrid suffrance-mightily forlorn.
Petrarch, outstepping from the shady green, 91
Starts at the sight of Laura; nor can wean His eyes from her sweet face.
For over them was seen a free display
Of outspread wings, and from between them shone The face of Poesy: from off her throne She overlook'd things that I scarce could tell, The very sense of where I was might well Keep sleep aloof: but more than that there came Thought after thought to nourish up the flame g Within my breast; so that the morning light a Surprised me even from a sleepless night;/210 And up I rose refresh'd, and glad, and gay, Resolving to begin that very day 12 These lines; and howsoever they be done, /3 I leave them as a father does his son., 4/20
HINK not of it, sweet one, so ;-
Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go Any-any where.
Do not look so sad, sweet one,- Sad and fadingly;
Shed one drop then-it is gone- Oh! 'twas born to die!
Still so pale? then, dearest, weep; Weep, I'll count the tears, And each one shall be a bliss For thee in after years.
Brighter has it left thine eyes Than a sunny rill;
And thy whispering melodies Are tenderer still.
Yet as all things mourn awhile At fleeting blisses;
Let us too; but be our dirge A dirge of kisses.
NFELT, unheard, unseen, I've left my little queen,
Her languid arms in silver slumber lying:
Ah! through their nestling touch, Who-who could tell how much There is for madness-cruel, or complying?
Those faery lids how sleek!
Those lips how moist!-they speak,
In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into my fancy's ear
Melting a burden dear,
How "Love doth know no fullness, nor no bounds."
This sweetest day for dalliance was born!
So, without more ado,
I'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty morn.
Among the rest a shepherd (though but young Yet hartned to his pipe) with all the skill
His few yeeres could, began to fill his quill.
Britannia's Pastorals.-BROWNE.
WEET are the pleasures that to verse belong,
And doubly sweet a brotherhood in
Nor can remembrance, Mathew! bring to view A fate more pleasing, a delight more true Than that in which the brother poets joy'd, Who, with combined powers, their wit employ'd To raise a trophy to the drama's muses. The thought of this great partnership diffuses Over the genius-loving heart, a feeling
Of all that's high, and great, and good, and healing.
Too partial friend! fain would I follow thee Past each horizon of fine poesy;
Fain would I echo back each pleasant note, As o'er Sicilian seas clear anthems float
'Mong the light skimming gondolas far parted, Just when the sun his farewell beam has darted: But 'tis impossible; far different cares Beckon me sternly from soft "Lydian airs," And hold my faculties so long in thrall, That I am oft in doubt whether at all
I shall again see Phoebus in the morning : Or flush'd Aurora in the roseate dawning! Or a white Naiad in a rippling stream; Or a rapt seraph in a moonlight beam; Or again witness what with thee I've seen, The dew by fairy feet swept from the green,
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