I have not a doubt but he, Blithe of heart, from week to week Slipp'st into thy shelter'd hold; Thou art not beyond the moon, THE WATERFALL AND THE EGLANTINE "BEGONE, thou fond presumptuous elf," "Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self Between me and my choice!" Scotticè, shoes. And dancing high, and dancing low, "Dost thou presume my course to block I'll hurl thee headlong with the rock The flood was tyrannous and strong; Nor did he utter groan or sigh, Hoping the danger would be past: But, seeing no relief, at last He ventured to reply. "Ah!" said the Brier, "blame me not; Why should we dwell in strife? We who in this, our natal spot, Once lived a happy life! You stirr'd me on my rocky bed What pleasure through my veins you spread! The summer long, from day to day, My leaves you freshen'd and bedew'd; Nor was it common gratitude That did your cares repay. "When Spring came on with bud and bell, Among these rocks did I Before you hang my wreaths, to tell And, in the sultry summer hours, I shelter'd you with leaves and flowers; "But now proud thoughts are in your breast What grief is mine you see. Ah! would you think, even yet how blest Together we might be! Though of both leaf and flower bereft, Some ornaments to me are left Rich store of scarlet hips is mine, What more he said I cannot tell : I listen'd, nor ought else could hear; THE OAK AND THE BROOM. simple truths did Andrew glean ide the babbling rills; areful student he had been ong the woods and hills. winter's night, when through the trees w a crag, a lofty stone er tempest beat! -f its head an Oak had grown, Dom out of its feet. ime was March, a cheerful noon- Dak, a giant and a sage, -weary weeks, through rock and clay, this mountain's edge, ost hath wrought both night and day, driving after wedge. p! and think, above your head rouble surely will be bred; ght I heard a crash-'tis true, e preparing, as before, just three years back-no more a strange escape. m yon cliff a fragment broke; derous block was caught by me, had better been asleep, thing it were, And, trust me, on some sultry noon, 'From me this friendly warning take'- And thus to keep herself awake 'My thanks for your discourse are due; 'Disasters, do the best we can, For me, why should I wish to roam? This spot is my paternal home, It is my pleasant heritage; My father, many a happy year, Here spread his careless blossoms, here Attain'd a good old age. 'E'en such as his may be my lot. On me such bounty Summer pours, 'The butterfly, all green and gold, When grass is chill with rain or dew, "Her voice was blithe, her heart was light; The Broom might have pursued Her speech, until the stars of night Their journey had renew'd: But in the branches of the Oak Two ravens now began to croak And to her own green bower the breeze That instant brought two stripling bees, "One night, my children, from the North At break of day I ventured forth, The storm had fall'n upon the Oak, The little careless Broom was left THE REDBREAST AND THE BUTTERFLY. ART thou the bird whom man loves best, The bird that comes about our doors And Russia far inland? The bird, whom by some name or other, If the butterfly knew but his friend, Under the branches of the tree, In and out, he darts about ; Can this be the bird, to man so good, That, after their bewildering, Did cover with leaves the little children, So painfully in the wood? What ail'd thee, Robin, that thou couldst pursue A beautiful creature, That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky From flower to flower let him fly; "Tis all that he wishes to do. The cheerer thou of our in-door sadness, Paradise Lost, Book XI., where Adam points out to Eve the ominous sign of the eagle chasing "two birds of sayest plume," and the gentle hart and hind pursued by their enemy. |