[005][006]
Two scraps of verse of a similar tendency shall follow this prose
description:--
AN ENGLISH LANDSCAPE.
I stood, upon an English hill,
And saw the far meandering rill,
A vein of liquid silver, run
Sparkling in the summer sun;
While adown that green hill's side,
And along the valley wide,
Sheep, like small clouds touched with light,
Or like little breakers bright,
Sprinkled o'er a smiling sea,
Seemed to float at liberty.
Scattered all around were seen,
White cots on the meadows green.
Open to the sky and breeze,
Or peeping through the sheltering trees,
On a light gate, loosely hung,
Laughing children gaily swung;
Oft their glad shouts, shrill and clear,
Came upon the startled ear.
Blended with the tremulous bleat,
Of truant lambs, or voices sweet,
Of birds, that take us by surprise,
And mock the quickly-searching eyes.
Nearer sat a fair-haired boy,
Whistling with a thoughtless joy;
A shepherd's crook was in his hand,
Emblem of a mild command;
And upon his rounded cheek
Were hues that ripened apples streak.
Disease, nor pain, nor sorrowing,
Touched that small Arcadian king;
His sinless subjects wandered free--
Confusion without anarchy.
Happier he upon his throne.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37