Old Edward's sons, unknown to yield, But lo, where, sunk in deep despair, Her matted tresses madly spread, To every sod, which wraps the dead, Ne'er shall she leave that lowly ground Proclaim her reign restored : Till William seek the sad retreat, If, weak to soothe so soft a heart, If yet, in Sorrow's distant eye, 35 40 45 50 VARIATIONS. Ver. 31. Old Edward's sons, untaught to yield, Where'er from time thou court'st relief, Her gentlest promise keep; And bid her shepherds weep. 55 60 * Harting, a village adjoining the parish of Trotton, and about two miles distant from it. ODE TO EVENING. If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, Thy springs, and dying gales; O nymph reserved, while now the bright-hair'd sun Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, With brede ethereal wove, O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat 9 VARIATIONS. Ver. 2. May hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear. 3. Like thy own solemn springs, 9. While air is hush'd, save where the weak-eyed bat As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path, To breathe some soften'd strain, 15 Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit; As, musing slow, I hail Thy genial loved return! For when thy folding-star arising shows 20 And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, 25 And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; Or find some ruin, 'midst its dreary dells, 30 VARIATIONS. Ver. 24. Who slept in flowers the day, 29. Then lead, calm votress, where some sheety lake Cheers the lone heath, or some time-hallow'd pile, E Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or, if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires; And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil. While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light; 35 40 While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves; +5 Ver. 31. VARIATIONS. Or upland fallows grey, Reflect its last cool gleam. 33. But when chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut, |