LOCH-NA-GARR. 133. LOCH-NA-GARR. AWAY, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses! you 157 Restore me the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes, Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth flowing fountains, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch-na-Garr. Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd, As daily I strode through the pine-covered glade. I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch-na-Garr. BYRON.. 134. CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. God that madest earth and heaven, Darkness and light! Who the day for toil hast given, May thine angel-guards defend us, HEBER. 158 A MAY MORNING. 135. A MAY MORNING. O LADY, leave thy silken thread Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find "Tis like the birthday of the world, There's crimson buds, and white, and blue- Have turned to blossoms where they fell, And sown the earth with flowers. There's fairy tulips in the east, The garden of the sun; The very streams reflect the hues While Morn opes like a crimson rose, Still wet with pearly showers; Then, lady, leave the silken thread Thou twinest into flowers. HOOD. 136. FIELD FLOWERS. SWEET nurslings of the vernal skies, KEBLE. 137. AUTUMN FLOWERS. GEMS of the changing autumn, how beautiful ye are ! Shining from your glossy stems like many a golden star; Peeping through the long grass, smiling on the down, Lighting up the dusky bank, just where the sun goes down; Yellow flowers of autumn, how beautiful ye are, Shining from your glossy stems like many a golden star! CAMPBELL. 138. FLOWERS, AND THEIR SPEECH. FAR from the hum and noisy toil Of a city's endless strife, The flowers, with gentle pathos, speak Of a holier, happier life. ELLEN OZIER. 160 GOD THE INFINITE ARTIST. 139. GOD THE INFINITE ARTIST. Not a flower But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain, Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues, CowPER. 139* WHO can paint Like Nature? Can Imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers? Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, And lose them in each other, as appears In every bud that blows? THOMSON. 140. MUSIC AND DEVOTION. DEVOTION borrows music's tone, And music takes devotion's wing; And, like the bird that hails the sun, ΑΝΟΝ. SCENES OF CHILDHOOD. 141. SCENES OF CHILDHOOD. АH! happy hills, ah! pleasing shade, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, I feel the gales that from ye A momentary bliss bestow, blow As waving forth their gladsome wing 161 GRAY. 142. THE SPRING JOURNEY. Он, green was the corn, as I rode on my way, And yet, though it left me all dripping aad chill, I felt a new pleasure, as onward I sped, To gaze where the rainbow gleamed broad over head. Oh, such is life's journey, and such be our skill, HEBER. |