Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill; The Plough-boy is whooping-anon-anon: There's joy in the mountains; There's life in the fountains ; Small clouds are sailing, Blue sky prevailing ; The rain is over and gone! 6. THE SMALL CELANDINE. * There is a Flower, the Lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun itself, 'tis out again! When hailstones have been falling swarm on swarm, * See Page 22 in the first Volume. But lately, one rough day, this Flower I pass'd, And recognized it, though an alter'd Form, I stopp'd, and said with inly muttered voice, The sunshine may not bless it, nor the dew; It cannot help itself in it's decay; Stiff in it's members, wither'd, changed of hue." And, in my spleen, I smiled that it was grey. To be a Prodigal's Favorite-then, worse truth, A Miser's Pensioner-behold our lot! O Man! that from thy fair and shining youth Age might but take the things Youth needed not! 7. I wandered lonely as a Cloud That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills, When all at once I saw a crowd A host of dancing Daffodills; Along the Lake, beneath the trees, The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:A Poet could not but be gay In such a laughing company: I gaz'd-and gaz'd-but little thought What wealth the shew to me had brought: |