70

QUEEN MAB.

The wind, retreating, hides, and cowering there,

Whines at thy coming like a hound afraid.

MAY.

QUEEN MAB.

QUEEN MAB and all her company

Dance on a pleasant mole-hill high,

To small straw pipes, wherein great pleasure
They take, and keep time, just time and measure:
All hand in hand, around, around,

They dance upon the fairy-ground;

And when she leaves her dancing hall,

She doth for her attendants call,

To wait upon her to a bower,

Where she doth sit under a flower,

To shade her from the moonshine bright,
Where gnats do sing for her delight;
The whilst the bat doth fly about,

To keep in order all the rout.

A dewy waving leaf's made fit

For the queen's bath, where she doth sit,
And her white limbs in beauty show,

Like a new-fallen flake of snow;

Her maids do put her garments on,
Made of the pure light from the sun,
Which do so many colors take,

As various objects shadows make.

DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE.

HER DWELLING.

I DWELL in groves that gilt are with the sun;

Sit on the banks by which clear waters run;
In summer's heat down in a shade I lie;
My music is the buzzing of a fly;

I walk in meadows, where grows fresh green grass;
In fields, where corn is high, I often pass;
Walk up the hills, where round I prospects see,
Some brushy woods, and some all champaigns be;
Returning back I in fresh pastures go,

To hear how sheep do bleat, and cows do low;
In winter cold, when nipping frosts come on,
Then I do live in a small house alone;
Although 'tis plain, yet cleanly 'tis within,
Like to a soul that's pure and clear from sin;
And there I dwell in quiet and still peace,
Not filled with cares how riches to increase;

72

A RURAL MEDITATION.

I wish nor seek for vain and fruitless pleasures;

No riches are, but what the mind intreasures.
Thus am I solitary, live alone,

Yet better loved, the more that I am known;
And though my face ill-favored at first sight,
After acquaintance it will give delight.
Refuse me not, for I shall constant be;
Maintain your credit and your dignity.

DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE,

A RURAL MEDITATION.

HERE in the tuneful groves and flowery fields,
Nature a thousand various beauties yields:
The daisy and tall cowslip we behold
Arrayed in snowy white, or freckled gold.
The verdant prospect cherishes our sight,
Affording joy unmixed, and calm delight;
The forest walks and venerable shade,

Wide-spreading lawns, bright rills, and silent glade,
With a religious awe our souls inspire,

And to the heavens our raptured thoughts aspire,

To Him who sits in majesty on high,

Who turned the starry arches of the sky;

Whose word ordained the silver Thames to flow,
Raised all the hills, and laid the valleys low;
Who taught the nightingale in shades to sing,
And bid the skylark warble on the wing;
Makes the young steer, obedient, till the land,
And lowing heifers own the milker's hand;
Calms the rough sea, and stills the raging wind,
And rules the passions of the human mind.

THYNNE

THE CLOSE OF SPRING.

THE garlands fade that Spring so lately wove,
Each simple flower which she had nursed in dew,
Anemones, that spangled every grove,

The primrose wan, and hare-bell mildly blue.

No more shall violets linger in the dell,

Or purple orchis variegate the plain,

Till Spring again shall call forth every bell,

And dress with humid hands her wreaths again,—

Ah! poor humanity! so frail, so fair,

Are the fond visions of thy early day,

Till tyrant passion and corrosive care

Bid all thy fairy colors fade away!

74

ENGLISH SCENERY.

Another May new buds and flowers shall bring; Ah! why has happiness-no second Spring?

SMITH

ENGLISH SCENERY.

(FROM "BEACHY HEAD.")

HAUNTS of my youth!

Scenes of fond day-dreams, I behold ye yet!
Where 'twas so pleasant by thy northern slopes,
To climb the winding sheep-path, aided oft
By scattered thorns, whose spiny branches bore
Small woolly tufts, spoils of the vagrant lamb,
There seeking shelter from the noonday sun:
And pleasant, seated on the short soft turf,
To look beneath upon the hollow way,
While heavily upward moved the laboring wain,
And stalking slowly by, the sturdy hind,

To ease his panting team, stopped with a stone
The grating wheel.

Advancing higher still

The prospect widens, and the village church

But little o'er the lowly roofs around