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Far off the petrel in the troubled way
And sports at ease on the tempestuous main.
In-shore their passage tribes of sea-gulls urge, And drop for prey within the sweeping surge; Oft in the rough opposing blast they fly
Far back, then turn, and all their force apply; While to the storm they give their weak complaining cry,
Or clap the sleek white pinion to the breast,
Darkness begins to reign; the louder wind
As if he fear'd companion in the chase;
He sees his prize, and now he turns again, Slowly and sorrowing" Was your search in vain?"
Gruffly he answers, "'Tis a sorry sight!
"A seaman's body- there'll be more to-night!" Hark to those sounds! they're from distress at
How quick they come! what terrors may there be !
Lights, signs of terror, gleaming from the stern.
Their head the gown has hooded, and their call,
Chide, fondle, weep, dare, threaten, or entreat.
See, one poor girl, all terror and alarm,
Has fondly seiz'd upon her lover's arm;
"Thou shalt not venture!" and he answers, "No!
"I will not; "-still she cries, "Thou shalt not go!"
No need of this; not here the stoutest boat Can through such breakers, o'er such billows float: Yet may they view those lights upon the beach, Which yield them hope, whom help can never reach.
From parted clouds the moon her radiance throws
On the wild waves, and all the danger shows;
I see them not! the storm alone I hear :
And lo! the sailors homeward take their way.
THE EVENING WALK.
LET us o'er the fields,
Across the down, or through the shelving wood,
And be it ours to follow and admire,
As well we may, the graces infinite
Of choice instruction with her snowy bells,
The public walk, nor gaze of mid-day sun:
But silent and alone puts on her suit,
And sheds her lasting perfume, but for which
Still shelter'd and secure. And so the storm,
Away, we loiter. Without notice pass
To hide a bleeding heart. And here's the meek
The melancholy hyacinth, that weeps
All night, and never lifts an eye all day.
How gay this meadow-like a gamesome boy New cloth'd, his locks fresh comb'd and powder'd, he All health and spirits. Scarce so many stars Shine in the azure canopy of heav'n,
As kingcups here are scatter'd, interspers'd
With silver daisies.
See, the toiling hind
With many a sturdy stroke cuts up at last
The tough and sinewy furze. How hard he fought,
For what more noble than the vernal furze,
His gallant train leads out, the while his torch
TO A BEE.
THOU wert out betimes, thou busy, busy Bee!
Before the cow from her resting-place
On the meadow, with dew so gray,
Thou wert working late, thou busy, busy Bee!
When the primrose of evening was ready to burst,
Thou art a miser, thou busy, busy Bee!
Thy summer in keeping and hoarding is spent
Wise lesson this for me, thou busy, busy Bee!
Little dost thou think, thou busy, busy Bee!
When the latest flowers of the ivy are gone,
Thy master comes for the spoil;
Woe then for thee, thou busy, busy Bee!
THE FALLING LEAF.
WERE I a trembling leaf
I should be loth to fall
Beside the common way,
Nor would I choose to die
All on a bed of grass,
Where thousands of my kindred lie,