B. I.

Their length and colour from the mes
The elastic spring of an inn i
That mounts the stile with an
That play of lungs inhaling a deras
Respiring freely the fish an tua mase
Swift pace or steen asen 10 ví n
Mine have not pilfer 1 ve
My relish of fair pris

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Or charm'd me young age vous.
Still soothing and of

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Whose arm this wennen
Fast lock'd in mine with Deta
Confirm'd by lang serenes & te wen.
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Thou knowest my grave van we
And that my

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To serve occasions or were or
But genuine, and in samer of
How oft upon ju mine 37 m
Has slackend to a pane ait we se
The ruffling w
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While admiration being a ****.
And still uneated, evez vyn te sh
Thence with what pure tale we
The distant plough

His labouring team, that swerve, uz to,
The sturdy swain disinheid to a voy

11

YouFLE SAL

Diminished to her cock, her sok kung
Almost too small for sight.

King Laur,

Of grassy swarth close cropt by nibbling sheep, 110 And skirted thick with intertexture firm

9

Of thorny boughs; have loved the rural walk
O'er hills, through valleys, and by river's brink,
E'er since a truant boy I pass'd my bounds
To enjoy a ramble on the banks of Thames.
And still remember, nor without regret
Of hours that sorrow since has much endear'd,
How oft, my slice of pocket store consumed,
Still hungering pennyless and far from home,
I fed on scarlet hips and stony haws,
Or blushing crabs, or berries that emboss
The bramble, black as jet, or sloes austere.
Hard fare! but such as boyish appetite
Disdains not, nor the palate undepraved
By culinary arts unsavoury deems.
No SOFA then awaited my return,
Nor SOFA then I needed. Youth repairs
His wasted spirits quickly, by long toil
Incurring short fatigue; and though our years
As life declines, speed rapidly away,
And 10 not a year but pilfers as he goes
Some youthful grace that age would gladly keep,
A tooth or auburn lock, and by degrees

L'Allegro.

9 Where the nibbling flocks do stray.
10 Years following years steal something every day.
Pope. Imit. of Hor. Ep. ii. 2.
(Singula de nobis anni prædantur euntes.)

Not numerous are our joys when life is new,
And yearly some are falling of the few.

Young. Sut. v.

115

120

125

130

Their length and colour from the locks they spare;
The elastic spring of an unwearied foot
That mounts the stile with ease, or leaps the fence,
That play of lungs inhaling and again
Respiring freely the fresh air, that makes
Swift pace or steep ascent no toil to me,
Mine have not pilfer'd yet; nor yet impair'd
My relish of fair prospect; scenes that soothed
Or charm'd me young, no longer young, I find
Still soothing and of power to charm me still.
And witness, dear companion of my walks,
Whose arm this twentieth winter I perceive
Fast lock'd in mine, with pleasure such as love
Confirm'd by long experience of thy worth
And well-tried virtues could alone inspire,-
Witness a joy that thou hast doubled long.
Thou knowest my praise of nature most sincere,
And that my raptures are not conjured up
To serve occasions of poetic pomp,
But genuine, and art partner of them all.
How oft upon yon eminence our pace
Has slacken'd to a pause, and we have borne
The ruffling wind scarce conscious that it blew,
While admiration feeding at the eye,

And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene.

11

Yon tall anchoring bark

Diminished to her cock, her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight.

King Lear, Act iv. Sc. 6.

135

140

145

160

Thence with what pleasure have we just discern'd
The distant plough slow-moving, and beside
His labouring team, that swerved not from the track,
The sturdy swain diminish'd to a boy11!

150

155

Here Ouse, slow winding through a level plain
Of spacious meads with cattle sprinkled o'er,
Conducts the eye along his sinuous 12 course
Delighted. There, fast rooted in his bank
Stand, never overlook'd, our favourite elms
That screen the herdsman's solitary hut;
While far beyond and overthwart the stream
That as with molten glass inlays the vale,
The sloping land recedes into the clouds;
Displaying on its varied side the grace
Of hedge-row beauties numberless, square tower,
Tall spire, from which the sound of cheerful bells
Just undulates upon the listening ear;
Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote.
Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd
Please daily 13, and whose novelty survives
Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years.
Praise justly due to those that I describe.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds
Exhilarate the spirit ", and restore
The tone of languid Nature. Mighty winds
That sweep the skirt of some far-spreading wood
Of ancient growth, make music not unlike
The dash of ocean on his winding shore,
And lull the spirit while they fill the mind,

12 Striking the ground with sinuous trace.

Par. Lost, vii. 481.

Hor.

13 Hæc placuit semel, et decies repetita placebit. 14 Sustain, Thou only canst, the sick of heart, Restore their languid spirits, and recall Their lost affections unto thee and thine.

Excursion, p. 142.

165

170

175

180

185

Unnumber'd branches waving in the blast,
And all their leaves fast fluttering, all at once.
Nor less composure waits upon the roar
Of distant floods, or on the softer voice
Of neighbouring fountain, or of rills that slip
Through the cleft rock, and chiming as they fall
Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length
In matted that with a livelier green
grass,
Betrays the secret of their silent course 15.
Nature inanimate employs sweet sounds,
But animated Nature sweeter still
To soothe and satisfy the human ear.
Ten thousand warblers cheer the day 16, and one
The livelong night: nor these alone whose notes
Nice-finger'd art must emulate in vain,

But cawing rooks, and kites that swim sublime
In still repeated circles, screaming loud,
The jay, the pie, and even the boding owl
That hails the rising moon, have charms for me.
Sounds inharmonious in themselves and harsh,
Yet heard in scenes where peace for ever reigns,
And only there, please highly for their sake.

Peace to the artist, whose ingenious thought
Devised the weather-house, that useful toy!
Fearless of humid air and gathering rains
Forth steps the man, an emblem of myself;

15

16

By their onward lapse
Betray to sight the motion of the stream
Else imperceptible.
Excursion, p. 139.

To their nests

Were slunk all but the wakeful nightingale.

Par. Lost, iv. 601.

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210