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The shadow of the leaf and stem above
Those fronting elms, and now with blackest mass
Thro' the late Twilight and tho' now the Bat
Wheels silent by, and not a Swallow twitters,
Yet still the solitary humble Bee,
Sings in the bean-flower! Henceforth I shall know
*Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm For thee, my gentle-hearted CHARLES! to whom No sound is dissonant, which tells of Life.
*Flew creeking.-Some months after I had written this line, it gave me pleasure to observe that Bartram had observed the same circumstance of the Savannah Crane. "When these birds move their wings in flight, their strokes are slow, moderate and regular; and even when at a considerable distance, or high above us, we plainly hear the quill feathers, their shafts and webs upon one another creek as the joints or working of a vessel in a tempestuous sea.
"Much on my early youth I love to dwell," When by my father's side, a stripling boy, I paced with steps unequal; fain to tell
Of some new-practis'd game, some new-bought toy: How oft with bliss, which latter days deny,
My prattling tongue its story would repeat !
If chance he smil'd,-and he would smile, how high With blameless pride my filial heart would beat ? O for those hours of ecstacy again
Which thus on life's sweet prime their lustre shed! The radiant season I invite in vain
With second beam to gild my orphan head
Written at MATLOCK.
Matlock, as through thy cliff-sprung woods I rove
How oft his heart, that seat of faithful love,
While as I wander thro' thy time-worn walls
With horrid smile prepare the poison'd bowl,
Now from the shade a murder'd form arise