« 上一頁繼續 »
Her lips were of vermilion hue;
Set all my heart in flame!
With evil—and it came !
Perspective dawn'd—and soon I saw
And “keeping” all unkept !
But horrors to be wept!
Ah! why did knowledge ope my eyes?
It only serves to hint,
In nature no Dewint!
Thrice happy time!-Art's early days!
Narcissus-like I hung!
As nothing to the young !
A FAIRY TALE.
On Hounslow heath—and close beside the road,
As western travellers may oft have seen, A little house some years ago there stood,
A minikin abode; And built like Mr. Birkbeck's, all of wood; The walls of white, the window-shutters green ;Four wheels it had at North, South, East, and (Tho' now at rest)
Till he had made his pelf,
Of a roadsider.
Perchance, the very race and constant riot
Of his now sedentary caravan ; Perchance, he loved the ground because 'twas
That furnish’d, by his toil,
Some dusty greens, for him and his old woman ;-
But, tired of always looking at the coaches,
reading; But setting out where others nigh have done, And being ripen’d in the seventh stage,
The childhood of old age, Began, as other children have begun,Not with the pastorals of Mr. Pope,
Or Bard of Hope,
Or Valentine and Orson-
And beint fairy ta
Thus reading on—the longer
stronger In Gnomes, and Hags, and Elves, and Giants
grim,-. If talking Trees and Birds reveal’d to him, She saw the flight of Fairyland's fly-wagons,
And magic-fishes swim. In puddle ponds, and took old crows for dragonsBoth were quite drunk from the enchanted flagons ; When, as it fell upon a summer's day, As the old man sat a feeding
On the old babe-reading, Beside his open street-and-parlour door,
A hideous roar Proclaim'd a drove of beasts was coming by the
Long-horn'd, and short, of many a different breed, Tall, tawny brutes, from famous Lincoln-levels,
Or Durham feed, With some of those unquiet black dwarf devils
From nether side of Tweed,
Or Firth of Forth;
However, one brown monster, in a frisk,
Leapt o'er the tiny pale,-
Right o'er the page,
Wherein the sage
The old man, half a scholar, half a dunce,
And being huff’d
Bang’d-to the door,
The monster gave a roar,
Just then, by fortune's whimsical decree,
should be, Was getting up some household herbs for supper: '