Thus spake the moral Muse; her wing Abruptly spreading to depart, 1824. III. A WHIRL-BLAST from behind the hill ; Of tallest hollies, tall and green; The leaves in myriads jump and spring, Were dancing to the minstrelsy. 1799. IV. THE WATERFALL AND THE EGLANTINE. I. "BEGONE, thou fond presumptuous Elf," Exclaimed an angry voice, "Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self A small Cascade fresh swoln with snows II. "Dost thou presume my course to block? Off, off! or, puny Thing! I'll hurl thee headlong with the rock To which thy fibres cling." The Flood was tyrannous and strong; Hoping the danger would be past; He ventured to reply. III. "Ah!" said the Brier, “blame me not; Why should we dwell in strife? We who in this sequestered spot Once lived a happy life! You stirred me on my rocky bed, What pleasure through my veins you spread The summer long, from day to day, My leaves you freshened and bedewed; Nor was it common gratitude That did your cares repay. IV. "When Spring came on with bud and bell, Among these rocks did I Before you hang my wreaths, to tell That gentle days were nigh! And in the sultry summer hours, I sheltered you with leaves and flowers; And in my leaves now shed and goneThe linnet lodged, and for us two Chanted his pretty songs, when Had little voice or none. you V. "But now proud thoughts are in your breast, What grief is mine you see; Ah! would you think, even yet how blest Together we might be! Though of both leaf and flower bereft, Some ornaments to me are left; VI. What more he said I cannot tell, V. THE OAK AND THE BROOM. A PASTORAL. I. HIS simple truths did Andrew glean Beside the babbling rills; 1800. A careful student he had been One winter's night, when through the trees II. "I saw a crag, a lofty stone As ever tempest beat! Out of its head an Oak had grown, A Broom out of its feet. The time was March, a cheerful noon, His neighbor thus addressed :— III. "Eight weary weeks, through rock and clay, Along this mountain's edge, The Frost hath wrought both night and day, Wedge driving after wedge. Look up and think, above your head What trouble, surely, will be bred; Last night I heard a crash, -'t is true, The splinters took another road; |