The very yew formality had train'd
To such a rigid pyramidal stature,
For want of trimming had almost regained
The raggedness of nature.

The fountain was a-dry-neglect and time
Had marr'd the work of artisan and mason,
And efts and croaking frogs, begot of slime,
Sprawl'd in the ruin'd bason.

The statue, fallen from its marble base,
Amidst the refuse leaves, and herbage rotten,
Lay like the idol of some bygone race,
Its name and rites forgotten.

On

every side the aspect was the same,
All ruin'd, desolate, forlorn, and savage;
No hand or foot within the precinct came
To rectify or ravage.

For over all there hung a cloud of fear,
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said as plain as whisper in the ear,
The place is haunted!

*

Hood.

MAY MORNING.1

Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap2 throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee and wish thee long.

Milton.

(1) Not the least charm of this graceful salutation to May morning is the sudden change of the metre in the fifth line, which seems as it were to introduce us at once into the presence of the fair vision, whose approach is indicated by the previous passage.

(2) Green lap-Spenser describes "faire May" as "throwing flowers out of her lap around."

(3) Woods and groves, &c.-i. e. thou deckest them with verdure.

LAVINIA.

THE lovely young Lavinia once had friends;
And fortune smiled deceitful on her birth:
For, in her helpless years deprived of all,
Of every stay, save innocence and Heaven,
She, with her widowed mother, feeble, old,
And poor, lived in a cottage, far retired
Among the windings of a woody vale;
By solitude and deep-surrounding shades,
But more by bashful modesty, concealed.
Together thus they shunned the cruel scorn
Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet
From giddy passion, and low-minded pride;
Almost on Nature's bounty fed,

Like the gay birds that sung them to repose,
Content, and careless of to-morrow's fare.
Her form was fresher than the morning rose,
When the dew wets its leaves; unstained and pure,
As is the lily or the mountain snow.
The modest virtues mingled in her eyes,
Still on the ground dejected,' darting all
Their humid beams into the blooming flowers;
Or when the mournful tale her mother told,
Of what her faithless fortune promised once,
Thrilled in her thought, they, like the dewy star
Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace
Sat fair-proportioned on her polished2 limbs,.
Veiled in a simple robe, their best attire,
Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is, when unadorned, adorned the most.
Thoughtless of beauty, she was beauty's self,
Recluse amidst the elose-embowering woods:

(1) Dejected-cast down, referring to the eyes, not to the feelings; a very peculiar application of the term.

(2) Polished-Dr. Johnson has proposed a critical canon, which though not universally true, may perhaps be considered as applicable here. It is that “an epithet or metaphor drawn from nature ennobles art; an epithet or metaphor drawn from art degrades nature."

As in1 the hollow breast of Apennine,
Beneath the shelter of encircling hills,
A myrtle rises, far from human eye,
And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild;
So flourished, blooming, and unseen by all,
The sweet Lavinia.

Thomson.

STONEHENGE.2

THOU noblest monument of Albion's isle!
Whether by Merlin's aid from Scythia's shore,
To Amber's fatal plain Pendragon bore,
Huge frame of giant-hands, the mighty pile,
To entomb his Britons slain by Hengist's guile;
Or Druid priests, sprinkled with human gore,
Taught mid thy massy maze their mystic lore:
Or Danish chiefs, enriched with savage spoil,
To victory's idol vast, an unhewn shrine,
Reared the rude heap; or, in thy hallowed round,
Repose the kings of Brutus' genuine line;
Or here those kings in solemn state were crowned :
Studious to trace thy wondrous origin,

6

We muse on many an ancient tale renowned.7

Thomas Warlon.

(1) As in, &c.—Compare this beautiful passage with Gray's lines, beginning "Full many a gem," p. 62.

(2) This word, though the name of an ancient British memorial, seems to be Anglo-Saxon, and signifies hanging, or hung up stones. See Philological Society's Journal, No. 130.

(3) Merlin-a renowned enchanter, as he was called, who lived in the times of King Arthur, and who is fabulously said to have transported these stones from Africa, first to Ireland, and thence to Salisbury Plain.

(4) Amber's fatal plain-so called from Ambrose, the uncle of King Arthur; styled "fatal" from the massacre of the Britons, which is said to have taken place here.

(5) Pendragon-Dragon's head-a name of office; here probably meant for Uther Pendragon, the father of Arthur.

(6) Brutus-The great-grandson of Æneas, who is fabulously said to have landed at Totnes, in Devonshire, and made himself king of the island, giving it the name of Britain from his own. See Milton's "History of Britain."

(7) "Nothing can be more admirable than the learning here displayed, or the inference from it, that it is of no use but as it leads to interesting thought and reflection."-Hazlitt.

H

THE FIRMAMENT.1

WHEN I survey the bright
Celestial sphere,

So rich with jewels hung, that night
Doth like an Ethiop bride appear;

My soul her wings doth spread,
And heavenward flies,

The Almighty's mysteries to read
In the large volumes of the skies.
For the bright firmament
Shoots forth no flame

So silent, but is eloquent
In speaking the Creator's name.

No unregarded star
Contracts its light

Into so small a character,

Removed far from our human sight;

But if we steadfast look,

We shall discern

In it, as in some holy book,

How man may heavenly knowledge learn.

BEES.2

Habington.

YE musical hounds of the fairy king,

Who hunt for the golden dew,

Who track for your game the green coverts of spring,
Till the echoes, that lurk in the flower-bells, ring

With the peal of your elfin3 crew!

(1) These fine lines-and the first four especially deserve the epithet-were written in the early part of the seventeenth century.

(2) This little poem presents a new and graceful handling of a trite subject. The first and last stanzas are original and striking.

(3) Elfin-from the Anglo-Saxon alf, an elf, fairy. The Anglo-Saxons had their dun, or inountain elfs, wood elfs, water elfs, &c.

How joyous your life, if its pleasures ye knew,
Singing ever from bloom to bloom!

Ye wander the summer year's paradise through,
The souls of the flowers are the viands for you,
And the air that you breathe, perfume.

But unenvied your joys, while the richest you miss,
And before you no brighter life lies:

Who would part with his cares for enjoyment like this,
When the tears' that embitter the pure spirit's bliss
May be pearls in the crown of the skies!

MUSIC ON THE WATERS.?

THE foot of music is on the waters,
Hark! how fairily, sweetly it treads,
As in the dance of Orestes' daughters,3
Now it advances and now recedes.

Now it lingers among the billows,
Where some one fonder than the rest,
Clasps the rover in passing, and pillows
Her softly upon its heaving breast.

Oft she flies, and her steps though light
Make the green waves all tremble beneath her,
Now the quick ear cannot follow her flight,

And the flood is unstirred as the calm blue ether.

(1) The tears, &c.-i. e. the sorrows of earth may be appointed by God, as the very means of fixing the affections on heaven.

(2) The measure of these lines very aptly illustrates their subject; this is effected by an artful and ingenious intermingling of various metrical feet. The following scheme of the first stanza will exemplify the remark. The points out the accented syllables.

100-1

The advancing and receding in the last line are most skilfully represented. (3) Orestes' daughters-It is difficult to say who Orestes' daughters were; probably the Oreads, or mountain nymphs are meant.