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النشر الإلكتروني



Beyond, along the vifta of the brook,

Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,
The eye reposes on a fecret bridge,
Half grey, half fhagged with ivy to its ridge.

Sweet rill, farewell! To-morrow's noon again
Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
But now the fun has gained his western road,
And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad.

While, near the midway cliff, the silvered kite
In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
Travel along the precipice's base :
Cheering its naked waste of scattered ftone,
By lichens grey, and fcanty mofs, o'ergrown;
Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or thiftle's beard;
And reftlefs ftone-chat all day long is heard.

How pleasant, as the yellowing fun declines,
And with long rays and fhades the landfcape fhines;
To mark the birches' ftems all golden light,
That lit the dark flant woods with filvery white;
The willow's weeping trees, that twinkling hoar,
Glanced oft upturned along the breezy shore,
Low bending o'er the coloured water, fold
Their moveless boughs and leaves like threads of gold;


The fkiffs with naked mafts at anchor laid,
Before the boat-houfe peeping through the fhade;
The unwearied glance of woodman's echoed stroke;
And curling from the trees the cottage fmoke.

Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
Winding from fide to fide up the steep road;
The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
Shot, down the headlong path darts with his fledge;
Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
Feeding 'mid purple heath, green rings, and broom ;
While the fharp flope the flackened team confounds,
Downward the ponderous timber-wain resounds;
In foamy breaks the rill, with merry fong,
Dashed down the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
From lonefome chapel, at the mountain's feet,
Three humble bells their ruftic chime repeat;
Sounds from the waterfide the hammered boat ;
And blafted quarry thunders, heard remote!

Even here, amid the fweep of endless woods,
Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs, and falling floods,
Not undelightful are the simpleft charms,
Found by the graffy door of mountain-farms.

Sweetly ferocious, round his native walks, Pride of his fifter-wives, the monarch stalks;




Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
A crest of purple tops his warrior head;
Bright sparks his black and rolling eye-ball hurls
Afar, his tail he clofes and unfurls;

On tiptoe reared, he strains his clarion throat,
Threatened by faintly-anfwering farms remote.

Bright'ning the cliffs between where fombrous pine And yew-trees o'er the filver rocks recline;

I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,

Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains;
How bufy the enormous hive within,

While Echo dallies with the various din !

Some (hardly heard their chisels' clinking found)
Toil, fmall as pigmies in the gulf profound;
Some, dim between th' aërial cliffs descried,
O'erwalk the flender plank from fide to fide;
These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
Glad from their airy baskets hang, and fing.

Hung o'er a cloud above the steep that rears
Its edge all flame, the broadening sun appears;
A long blue bar its ægis orb divides,
And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings his fhadow on the pictured deep.

'Crofs the calm lake's blue fhades the cliffs afpire,
With towers and woods, a "profpect all on fire;"
The coves and fecret hollows, through a ray
Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
The gilded turf arrays in richer green

Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between,
Deep yellow beams the scattered boles illume,
Far in the level foreft's central gloom.
Waving his hat, the fhepherd, in the vale,
Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,—-
That barking, busy, 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks.
Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots
On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots :
The druid-stones their lighted fane unfold;

And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold;
Sunk to a curve, the day-ftar leffens ftill,
Gives one bright glance, and drops behind the hill.

In thefe lone vales, if aught of faith may claim, Their filver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame, When up the hills, as now, retreats the light, Strange apparitions mock the village fight.

A defperate form appears, that spurs his steed Along the midway cliffs with violent speed;


Unhurt pursues his lengthened flight, while all
Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall.
Anon, in order mounts, a gorgeous show
Of horsemen-fhadows moving to and fro;
And now the van is gilt with evening's beam;
The rear through iron brown betrays a fullen gleam,
While filent ftands the admiring crowd below,

Loft gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
Till, but the lonely beacon, all is fled
That tips with eve's latest gleam his fpiry head.

Now, while the folemn evening fhadows fail,
On red flow-waving pinions, down the vale;
How pleasant near the tranquil lake to ftray,
Where winds the road along a fecret bay,
In all the majefty of ease divides,
And glorying looks around the filent tides;
Along the "wild meandering fhore" to view,
Obfequious grace the winding fwan pursue;
He fwells his lifted cheft and backward flings
His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;
On as he floats, the filvered waters glow,

Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow,
While tender cares and mild domeftic loves
With furtive watch pursue her as she moves,
The female with a meeker charm fucceeds,
And her brown little-ones around her leads,

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