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appears arms bear beauty Beneath bird bloom blue breast bright brow called cliffs close clouds coast dark dear deep distant earth England eyes fabled fair fall floating flock flood flowers forms gale give glowing green half hands happy head heard heart heath hides hills hollow Hope hour hues Italy known land leaves light Line Line 11 lived mark Monica morning mountain native Nature nest never night NOTES o'er once Page pass plants poor purple rays rears remains rest rise rocks Rose round scarce scene seems seen shade shepherds short silver sings soft sometimes soon sounds spread spring stream summer tears tell thou thought thro tide toil trace trees turf wandering waves wild wind wings woods wreath young
Page 79 - SWALLOW The gorse is yellow on the heath, The banks with speedwell flowers are gay, The oaks are budding, and, beneath, The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, The silver wreath, of May.
Page 24 - I loved to trace the brooks whose humid banks Nourish the harebell, and the freckled pagil; And stroll among o'ershadowing woods of beech, Lending in Summer, from the heats of noon A whispering shade; while haply there reclines Some pensive lover of uncultured flowers...
Page 79 - The gorse is yellow on the heath, The banks with speedwell flowers are gay, The oaks are budding; and beneath, The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, The silver wreath of May. The welcome guest of settled Spring...
Page 181 - But oh! what joy it was to hear him sing In summer, when the day began to spring, Stretching his neck, and warbling in his throat; Solus cum sola then was all his note. For in the days of yore, the birds of parts Were bred to speak, and sing, and learn the liberal arts.
Page 115 - Gatherest thy fringed mantle round Thy bosom, at the closing hour, When nightdrops bathe the turfy ground, Unlike Silene, who declines The gansh noontide's blazing light ; But when the evening crescent shines. Gives all her sweetness to the night. Thus in each flower and simple bell. That in our path betrodden lie, Are sweet remembrancers who tell How fast their winged moments fly.
Page 22 - The upland shepherd rears his modest home, There wanders by, a little nameless stream That from the hill wells forth, bright now and clear, Or after rain with chalky mixture gray, But still refreshing in its shallow course, The cottage garden; most for use design'd, Yet not of beauty destitute.
Page 111 - Are faithful monitors, who tell How pass the hours and seasons by. The greenrobed children of the Spring Will mark the periods as they pass, Mingle with leaves Time's feathered wing, And bind with flowers his silent glass.
Page 82 - Thus lost to life, what favouring dream Bids you to happier hours awake ; And tells, that dancing in the beam, The light gnat hovers o'er the stream, The May-fly on the lake ? Or if, by instinct taught to know Approaching dearth of insect food ; To isles and willowy aits you go, And...