SOF A PIPING FAUN.

thou not the pipe of Faunus, eping,

glee, through Thessaly's domain ? powered wood-nymphs peeping

ces that around him reign; gers, and peasants reaping,

ausport, listening to the strain;

eneath a pine-tree sleeping,

and smiles, and drops to sleep again?

while thy blest sons were rovers

te loveliness this earth discovers, Na uinds a brighter region founded,

eds and sylvans, nymphs and lovers,

als of grace through sunny landscapes bounded,

ad enchantment all surrounded.

ON A GREEN-HOUSE.

ERE, from earth's dædal heights and dingles lowly,

The representatives of Nature meet;

Not like a Congress, or Alliance Holy
Of Kings, to rivet chains, but with their sweet
Blossomy mouths to preach the love complete,
That with pearl'd misletoe, and beaded holly,
Clothed them in green unchangeable, to greet
Winter with smiles, and banish melancholy.

I envy not the Emathian madman's fame,

Who won the world, and built immortal shame

On tears and blood; but if some flower, new found,

In its embalming cup might shroud my name,

Mine were a tomb more worthily renowned
Than Cheops' pile, or Artemisia's mound.

HORACE SMITH.

THE HARVEST MOON.

HE crimson moon, uprising from the sea, With large delight, foretells the harvest near : Ye shepherds, now prepare your melody To greet the soft appearance of her sphere ;And, like a page enamoured of her train, The star of evening glimmers in the west : Then raise, ye shepherds, your observant strain, That so of the Great Shepherd here are blest :Our fields are full with the time-ripened grain, Our vineyards with the purple clusters swell; Her golden splendour glimmers on the main, And vales and mountains her bright glory tell : Then sing, ye shepherds, for the time is come When we must bring the enriched harvest home.

TO A WATER BIRD.

MELANCHOLY bird !-a winter's day
Thou standest by the margin of the pool,

And, taught by God, dost thy whole being

school

To patience, which all evil can allay;

God has appointed thee the fish thy prey;

And given thyself a lesson to the fool
Unthrifty, to submit to moral rule,

And his unthinking course by thee to weigh.
There need not schools, nor the professor's chair,

Though these be good, true wisdom to impart ;

He who has not enough for these to spare
Of time or gold, may yet amend his heart,
And teach his soul by brooks and rivers fair;
Nature is always wise in every part.

TO AMORET.

HE Summer, the divinest Summer burns,
The skies are bright with azure and with gold;
The mavis and the nightingale, by turns,

Amid the woods a soft enchantment hold;

The flowering woods, with glory and delight,
Their tender leaves unto the air have spread;
The wanton air amid their alleys bright
Doth softly fly, and a light fragrance shed;
The Nymphs within the silver fountains play;
The Angels on the golden banks recline;
Wherein great Flora, in her bright array,
Hath sprinkled her ambrosial sweets divine ;—
Or, else, I gaze upon that beauteous face,

O Amoret! and think these sweets have place.