The' sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack 3
When the morning star shines dead ;*
As on the jag of a mountain crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of its golden wings.

And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardours of rest and love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest,

As still as a brooding dove.

That orbed maiden, with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn ;

And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer:

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm river, lakes, and seas,

Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the moon's with a girdle of pearl :

(1) The, &c.-The first eight lines of the stanza represent the cloud in motion in the morning; the last six represent it when motionless in the evening.

(2) Sanguine-from the Latin sanguis, blood-of a blood-red colour.

(3) Rack-from the Anglo-Saxon, rec-an, to smoke, to cast forth vapours— a vapour, mist, exhalation; sometimes, as here, a body of vapours forming a large cloud. Shakspere's expression, "Leave not a rack behind," is well known. (See p. 284.)

(4) Shines dead-i. e. waxes dim or faint; a singular expression. (5) Its ardours of, &c.-its warm sympathies with, &c.

(6) I bind, &c.-The whirlwinds unfurling the banner of the clouds-the clouds forming a bridge from mountain to mountain-the triumphal procession beneath the rainbow's arch-are all conceptions of remarkable beauty.

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,

Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,

The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march,
With hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-coloured bow;

The sphere-fire' above its soft colours wove,
While the moist earth was laughing below.

I am the daughter of the earth and water,
And the nursling of the sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ;
1 change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain, when, with never a stain,

The pavilion of heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams,
Build up

the blue dome of air

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,2

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

I rise and unbuild it again.

Shelley.

THE MITHERLESS BAIRN.3

WHEN a' ither bairnies are hushed to their hame
By aunty, or cousin, or frecky grand-dame,
Wha stands last an' lanely, an' sairly forfairn ?6
'Tis the puir dowie 7 laddie-the mitherless bairn!

(1) Sphere-fire-i. e. a light from the spheres, not earthly light.

(2) Cenotaph-from the Greek Kɛvós, empty, rápos, tomb-a tomb erected in honour of some one buried elsewhere. In this passage the sky-the proper region of the clouds-being, after the rain, empty of them, seems to be called on this account their cenotaph.

(3) This pathetic ballad was written by a poor weaver named Thom, still living at Inverury, in Aberdeenshire. The words not explained here will be found in pp. 76-79. (4) Bairnie-diminutive of bairn, a child.

(5) Frecky-eager, ready.

(6) Sairly forfairn-sorely distressed, destitute.

(7) Dowie-worn out with grief.

L

The mitherless bairnie creeps to his lane bed,
Nane covers his cauld back, or haps1 his bare head;
His wee hackit heelies are hard as the airn,3
An' litheless the lair o' the mitherless bairn!

Aneath his cauld brow, siccan dreams hover there,
O' hands that wont kindly to kaim his dark hair!
But morning brings clutches a' reckless an' stern,
That lo'e' na the locks o' the mitherless bairn!

The sister wha sang o'er his saftly rocked bed,
Now rests in the mools where their mammie is laid;
While the father toils sair his wee bannock' to earn,
An' kens na the wrangs o' his mitherless bairn!

Her spirit that passed in yon hour of his birth
Still watches his lone lorn wanderings on earth,
Recording in heaven the blessings they earn,
Wha couthilie 10 deal wi' the mitherless bairn!

Oh! speak him na harshly-he trembles the while,
He bends to your bidding, and blesses your smile :
In their dark hour o' anguish the heartless shall learn,
That God deals the blow for the mitherless bairn!

Thom.

ENGLISH RIVERS."

RIVERS, arise! whether thou be the son
Of utmost Tweed, or Ouse, or gulfy Dun,

Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads
His thirty arms 12 along the indented meads;

(1) Haps-wraps, covers up. (3) Airn-iron.

(2) Hackit heelies-heels chapped with the cold. (4) Litheless-comfortless.

(7) Lo'e-love.
(10) Couthilie-kindly.

(5) Siccan-such. (8) Mools-dust.

(6) Clutches-i. e.-pulls at his hair. (9) Bannock-barley-cake. (11) On comparing Milton's lines with Pope's, which follow, it will be observed that all the epithets employed by the former individualise the rivers, while Pope's, where they are his own, are frequently vague and general.

(12) Thirty arms-The word Trent is here, according to an old tradition, considered as derived from the Latin triginta, thirty, and on this fancy several conceits respecting it were based.

Or sullen Mole' that runneth underneath;
Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death;2
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lea,

Or coaly Tyne, or ancient hallowed Dee ;3
Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name;
Or Medway smooth, or royal-towered Thame.5

4

THE THAMES AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.
FROM his oozy bed,

Milton.

Old Father Thames advanced his reverend head :
Around his throne the sea-borne brothers stood,
Who swell with tributary urns his flood.
First the famed authors of his ancient name,
The winding Isis and the fruitful Thame;
The Kennet swift, for silver eels renowned;
The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crowned;
Colne, whose dark streams his flowery islands lave;
And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave:
The blue, transparent Vandalis appears;
The gulfy Lea his sedgy tresses rears;

And sullen Mole, that hides his diving flood;
And silent Darent, stained with Danish blood.

Pope.

HOME.

THERE is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns disperse serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night;

(1) Mole-This river sinks in the summer time into a "subterraneous and invisible channel," between Dorking and Letherhead, in Surrey. For a discussion of the causes of this phenomenon see Brayley's "History of Surrey," vol. i. pp. 175-185.

(2) Maiden's death-In allusion to the legend of Sabrina, referred to in "Comus," and detailed in Milton's "History of Britain," book i.

(3) Hallowed Dee-so called from its being fabulously considered the haunt of magicians, &c. (See extract from Milton's "Lycidas," p. 299.)

(4) Scythian's name-Humber is said to have been the name of a Scythian king, who was drowned in the river.

(5) Royal-towered Thame-in allusion to the royal towers of Windsor.

(6) Vanalis-the Wandle, a river in Surrey.

A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth,
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth.
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;
In every clime the magnet of his soul,
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely blest―
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend.
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life!
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man ?-a patriot ?-look around!
Oh thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land THY COUNTRY, and that spot THY HOME!
O'er China's garden-fields and peopled floods;

In California's pathless world of woods;

Round Andes' heights, where Winter, from his throne,
Looks down in scorn upon the summer zone;

By the gay borders of Bermuda's isles,

Where Spring, with everlasting verdure, smiles;
On pure Madeira's vine-robed hills of health;
In Java's swamps of pestilence and wealth;
Where Babel stood, where wolves and jackals drink,
Midst weeping willows on Euphrates' brink;

(1) Sire, husband-The sire-from the Latin senior, elder, through the French sieur-is the head of the family, the master of the house; husband-from the Anglo-Saxon hus, house, and band, bond-though its meaning is now restricted, had originally the same signification, the bond or support of the house. A man, therefore, as in the above line, may be called a sire in relation to his house and family, and a husband in relation to his wife.

(2) An angel-guard, &c.-The reference here to woman in her domestic circle is particularly elegant.