WHERE the Thracian channel roars
On lordly Europe's eastern shores,
Where the proudly jutting.land
Frowns on Asia's western strand,
High on seven hills is seen to shine
The second Rome of Constantine.
Beneath her feet with graceful pride
Propontis fpreads his ample tide,
His fertile banks profusely pour
Of luscious fruits a varied store,
Rich with a thousand glittering dyes
His flood a finny shoal supplies,
While crowding fails on rapid wing
The rifled south's bright treasures bring.
With crefcents gleaming to the skies
Mosques and minarets arise,
Mounted on whose topmost wall
The turban'd priests to worship call;
The mournful cypress rises round
Tap'ring from the burial-ground;
Olympus ever capped with snow
Crowns the busy scene below.
ORIGINAL.
This scene how rich from Thames's side,
While ev'ning suns their amber beam
Spread o'er the glaffy-surfac'd tide,
And ’mid the masts and cordage gleam ;
Blaze on the roofs with turrets crown'd,
And gild green pastures stretch'd around,
And gild the slope of that high ground
Whose corn-fields bright the prospect bound!
The white fails glide along the shore,
Red streamers on the breezes play,
The boatmen ply the dashing oar,
And wide their various freight convey ;
Some Neptune's hardy thoughtless train,
And some the careful sons of gain,
And some the fportive nymph and swain
Lift'ning to music's foothing strain.
But here, while these the sight allure,
Still fancy wings her flight away
To woods recluse and vales obscure,
And streams that folitary stray;
To view the pine-grove on the hill,
The rocks that trickling springs distill,
The meads that quiy'ring afpens fill,
Or alders crowding o'er the hill.
There's grandeur in this founding storm,
That drives the hurrying clouds along,
That on each other seem to throng,
And mix in many a varied form;
While bursting now and then between,
The moon's dim misty orb is seen,
And cafts faint glimpses on the green.
Beneath the blast the forests bend,
And thick the branchy ruin lies,
And wide the shower of foliage flies :
The lake's black waves in tumult blend,
Revolving o'er and o'er and o’er,
And foaming on the rocky shore,
Whose caverns echo to their roar.
But can my soul the scene enjoy
That rends another's breast with pain ?
O, hapless he, who, near the main,
Now sees its billowy rage destroy !
Beholds the found'ring bark descend,
Nor knows but what its fate may end
The moments of his dearest friend !
DELIGHTFUL looks this clear calm sky,
With Cynthia's orb on high!
Delightful looks this smooth green ground,
With shadows caft from cots around;
Quick twinkling lustre decks the tide,
And cheerful radiance gently falls
On that white town and castle walls,
That crown the spacious river's further Gide.
And now along the echoing hills
The night-bird's strain melodious trills;
And now the echoing dale along
Soft flows the shepherd's tuneful song ;
Description of a Cottage.
And
now,
wide o'er the water borne,
The city's mingled murmur swells,
And lively change of diftant bells,
And varied warbling of the deep-ton'd horn.
SCOT.
DESCRIPTION OF A COTTAGE.
WHERE O'er the brock's moist margin hazels meet,
Stands my lone home,-a pleasant, cool retreat.
Gay loosestrife there and pale valerian spring,
And tuneful reed-birds 'mid the fedges fing.
Among green ofiers winds my stream away,
Where the blue halcyon skims from spray to spray,
Where waves the bulrush as the waters glide,
And yellow flag-flowers deck the funny side.
East from my cottage stretch delightful meads,
Where rows of willows rise, and banks of reeds
There roll clear rivers; there, old elms between,
The mill's white roof and circling wheels are
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