University of Virginia Library

II. VOLUME II.

CONVERSATION THE SIXTH.

SONNET TO THE INSECT OF THE GOSSAMER.

Small, viewless aeronaut, that by the line
Of Gossamer suspended, in mid air
Float'st on a sun-beam—Living atom, where
Ends thy breeze-guided voyage? With what design
In æther dost thou launch thy form minute,
Mocking the eye? Alas! before the veil
Of denser clouds shall hide thee, the pursuit
Of the keen Swift may end thy fairy sail!
Thus on the golden thread that Fancy weaves
Buoyant, as Hope's illusive flattery breathes,
The young and visionary Poet leaves
Life's dull realities, while sevenfold wreaths
Of rainbow light around his head revolve.
Ah! soon at Sorrow's touch the radiant dreams dissolve.

THE NAUTILUS.

THE WHEAT-EAR.

AN EVENING WALK BY THE SEA SIDE.

CONVERSATION THE SEVENTH.

THE HUMMING BIRD.

THE HEATH.

Even the wide Heath, where the unequal ground
Has never on its rugged surface felt
The hand of Industry, though wild and rough,
Is not without its beauty; here the furze,
Enrich'd among its spines, with golden flowers
Scents the keen air; while all its thorny groups
Wide scatter'd o'er the waste are full of life;
For 'midst its yellow bloom, the assembled chats
Wave high the tremulous wing, and with shrill notes,
But clear and pleasant, cheer the extensive heath.
Linnets in numerous flocks frequent it too,
And bashful, hiding in these scenes remote
From his congeners, (they who make the woods
And the thick copses echo to their song)
The heath-thrush makes his domicile; and while
His patient mate with downy bosom warms
Their future nestlings, he his love lay sings
Loud to the shaggy wild—The Erica here,
That o'er the Caledonian hills sublime
Spreads its dark mantle, (where the bees delight
To seek their purest honey,) flourishes,
Sometimes with bells like Amethysts, and then
Paler, and shaded like the maiden's cheek
With gradual blushes—Other while, as white,
As rime that hangs upon the frozen spray.
Of this, old Scotia's hardy mountaineers
Their rustic couches form; and there enjoy
Sleep, which beneath his velvet canopy
Luxurious idleness implores in vain!
Between the matted heath and ragged gorse
Wind natural walks of turf, as short and fine
As clothe the chalky downs; and there the sheep
Under some thorny bush, or where the fern
Lends a light shadow from the Sun, resort,
And ruminate or feed; and frequent there
Nourish'd by evening mists, the mushroom spreads
From a small ivory bulb, his circular roof
The fairies fabled board—Poor is the soil,
And of the plants that clothe it few possess
Succulent moisture; yet a parasite
Clings even to them; for its entangling stalk
The wire like dodder winds; and nourishes,
Rootless itself, its small white flowers on them.
So to the most unhappy of our race
Those, on whom never prosperous hour has smiled,
Towards whom Nature as a step-dame stern
Has cruelly dealt; and whom the world rejects
To these forlorn ones, ever there adheres
Some self-consoling passion; round their hearts
Some vanity entwines itself; and hides,
And is perhaps in mercy given to hide,
The mortifying sad realities
Of their hard lot.

ODE TO THE MISSEL THRUSH

ODE TO THE OLIVE TREE.

CONVERSATION THE EIGHTH.

ON SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL IN LOCH TURIT.

A WILD SCENE AMONG THE HILLS OF OUGHTER-TYRE.

George.—

TO THE FIRE-FLY OF JAMAICA,

SEEN IN A COLLECTION.

VERSES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING.

As in the woods, where leathery lichen weaves
Its wintry web among the sallow leaves,
Which (thro' cold months in whirling eddies blown,)
Decay beneath the branches once their own.
From the brown shelter of their foliage sear,
Spring the young blooms that lead the floral year,
When waked by vernal Suns, the Pilewort dares,
Expand her clouded leaves and shining stars;
And, veins empurpling all her tassels pale,
Bends the soft wind-flower in the vernal gale.
Uncultured bells of azure jacinths blow,
And the breeze scenting violet lurks below.
So views the Wanderer, with delighted eyes,
Reviving hopes from black despondence rise;
When blighted by Adversity's chill breath,
Those hopes had felt a temporary death;
Then with gay heart he looks to future hours,
When Love and Friendship dress the summer bowers;
And, as delicious dreams enchant his mind,
Forgets his sorrows past, and gives them to the wind.

LINES COMPOSED IN PASSING THRO' A FOREST IN GERMANY.

If, when to-morrow's Sun, with upward ray,
Gilds the wide spreading oak, and burnish'd pine,
Destin'd to mingle here with foreign clay,
Pale, cold, and still, should sleep this form of mine;
The Day-star, with as lustrous warmth would glow,
And thro' the ferny lairs and forest shades,
With sweetest woodscents fraught, the air would blow,
And timid wild deer, bound along the glades;
While in a few short months, to clothe the mould,
Would velvet moss and purple melic rise,
By Heaven's pure dew drops water'd, clear and cold,
And birds innumerous sing my obsequies;
But, in my native land, no faithful maid
To mourn for me, would pleasure's orgies shun;
No sister's love my long delay upbraid;
No mother's anxious love demand her son.
Thou, only thou, my friend, would feel regret,
My blighted hopes and early fate deplore;
And, while my faults thou'dst palliate or forget,
Would half rejoice, I felt that fate no more.

TO A GERANIUM WHICH FLOWERED DURING THE WINTER.

WRITTEN IN AUTUMN.

CONVERSATION THE NINTH.

TO THE MULBERRY-TREE.

ON READING THE ORIENTAL APHORISM, “BY PATIENCE AND LABOUR THE MULBERRY-LEAF BECOMES SATIN.”

THE CANKERED ROSE.