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174

INVITATION TO ------

A FRAGMENT.

Haste to thy friend, and from the mountain brow,
High over-arching Cromer's pebbled shore,
Trace ocean's varying hues, and mark the shades
That chace each other o'er his dark-green breast
In quick succession, floating with the clouds
That cast the moving gloom; or watch the spread
Of gathering storms, that heave across the sky
Their widening night, while hollow-whistling winds
Now swell, now sink, and rolls the blacken'd sea
His hoarser surge—or heed the rippling showers
That rattle o'er the deep, while airy forms
Build on its waves the glittering bow of heaven;
And when, behind yon wood-girt hills, the sun
Has quench'd his fires, the sea-born flames shall flash,
Glide thro' the wave, and sparkle on the strand.
If these delight not, catch the purple beam
Of sun-rise, tinging wide the mist of morn,
And melting it to air—then brush along
The flowery meadow, mark its native blooms,
And glowing tints fresh-painted with the dew,
175

While, from their lair, the full-ey'd, stately steers
Slow-stretching rise, and scan with fixed look
Thy stranger form, and breathe their balmy steam.
Or seek the bristly corn-field, jocund there,
The low-bent mowers ply the hissing scythe
In cadence not unpleasing; with their task,
The tale, the laugh is mix'd; and bend thy steps
To yon fleet brook, amid whose shining waves
The countless shoals wheel swift, upturning oft
Their polish'd sides, and dart the flickering gleam
Of silver light—when evening slowly dims
With softest shade, the glary light of day,
When dark clouds, gold-tipp'd, cross the crimson sky,
And rear in air an awful, radiant throne
For shapes unseen, and through the reeking vale
The calm, deep flood of yellow light is pour'd,
Then pensive wander to the twilight still
Of Felbrigg's oaks, for there thy mind shall feed
On heaven-born thought—
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