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RETROSPECT.-LOVE OF NATURE LEADING TO
WHAT Sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard
To make the sounds more audible?
Covers, or sprinkles o'er, yon village green ?
Crowd seems it, solitary hill! to thee,
Though but a little family of men,
Shepherds and tillers of the ground-betimes
They hold a rustic fair-a festival,
Such as, on this side now, and now on that,
Sees annually, if clouds towards either ocean
Blown from their favourite resting-place, or mists
Dissolved, have left him an unshrouded head.
In this secluded glen, and eagerly
They give it welcome. Long ere heat of noon,
From byre or field the kine were brought; the sheep
Are penned in cotes; the chaffering is begun.
Of a new master; bleat the flocks aloud.
Booths are there none; a stall or two is here;
A lame man or a blind, the one to beg,
From far, with basket, slung upon her arm,
Of hawker's wares-books, pictures, combs, and pins-
Year after year, a punctual visitant !
Fruits of her father's orchard, are her wares,
And with the ruddy produce, she walks round
Among the crowd, half pleased with half ashamed
The children now are rich, for the old to-day
Faint, but more tranquil, like the changing sun.
Spreading from young to old, from old to young,
As tender infants are: and yet how great!
For all things serve them them the morning light
Loves, as it glistens on the silent rocks;
And them the silent rocks, which now from high