THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS. "With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave, And, coming to the church, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave. "Nine summers had she scarcely seen, The pride of all the vale; And then she sang;-she would have been A very nightingale ! "Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And yet I loved her more, For so it seemed, than till that day I e'er had loved before. "And, turning from her grave, I met, A blooming Girl, whose hair was wet "A basket on her head she bare; "No fountain from its rocky cave "There came from me a sigh of pain I looked at her, and looked again : HENCE good and evil mixed, but man has skill CRABBE. IT is the hour when from the boughs Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away. BYRON. |