THE SPARROW'S NEST. BEHOLD, within the leafy shade, Those bright blue eggs together laid! On me the chance-discovered sight The home and sheltered bed, The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by She looked at it and seerned to fear it Was with me when a boy: She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; S BEGGARS. HE had a tall man's height or more; Her face from summer's noontide heat No bonnet shaded, but she wore A mantle, to her very feet Descending with a graceful flow, And on her head a cap as white as new-fallen snow. Her skin was of Egyptian brown: She towered, fit person for a Queen Or ruling Bandit's wife among the Grecian isles. Advancing, forth she stretched her hand I left her, and pursued my way; Chasing a crimson butterfly; The taller followed with his hat in hand, [the land. Wreathed round with yellow flowers the gayest of The other wore a rimless crown With leaves of laurel stuck about; And, while both followed up and down, Each whooping with a merry shout, In their fraternal features I could trace Unquestionable lines of that wild Suppliant's face. Yet they, so blithe of heart, seemed fit For finest tasks of earth or air: Wings let them have, and they might flit Precursors to Aurora's car, Scattering fresh flowers; though happier far, I ween, To hunt their fluttering game o'er rock and level green. They dart across my path-but lo, Your mother has had alms of mine." "That cannot be," one answered-" she is dead "I looked reproof-they saw-but neither hung his head. "She has been dead, sir, many a-day." 'Hush, boys! you're telling me a lie ; It was your Mother, as I say! And, in the twinkling of an eye, "Come! come!" cried one, and without more ado, Off to some other play the joyous Vagrants flew ! MY THE RAINBOW. Y heart leaps up when I behold So was it when my life began; The Child is father of the Man; WRITTEN IN MARCH, WHILE RESTING ON THE BRIDGE AT THE FOOT OF THE BROTHER'S WATER. HE Cock is crowing, The small birds twitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; Are at work with the strongest ; Their heads never raising; The snow hath retreated, On the top of the bare hill; The rain is over and gone! TO THE SMALL CELANDINE. PA ANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies, TO THE SMALL CELANDINE. Long as there are violets, Eyes of some men travel far, Up and down the heavens they go, Modest, yet withal an Elf Since we needs must first have met Ere a leaf is on a bush, In the time before the thrush When we've little warmth, or none. Poets, vain men in their mood! Travel with the multitude; 141 |