40 ENGLISH SONNETS. 



Two sleeping Nymphs with wonder mute I spy ! 



And lo, she 's gone ! In robe of dark-green hue, 



'Twas Echo from her sister Silence flew ; 



For quick the hunter's horn resounded to the sky ! 

 In shade affrighted Silence melts away ; 



Not so her sister: hark! for onward still 



With far-heard step she takes her listening way, 

 Bounding from rock to rock, and hill to hill ! 



Ah, mark the merry maid in mockful play 



With thousand mimic tones the laughing forest fill I 



Mr. William Lisle Bowles has a beautiful one on 



TIME. 



O TIME ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay 

 Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, 

 Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, 

 The faint pang stealest unperceived away ; 



On thee I rest my only hope at last, 



And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear 

 That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 

 I may look back on every sorrow past, 



And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile ; 

 As some lone bird, at day's departing hour, 

 Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower 



Forgetful, though its wings are wet the while ; 

 Yet ah ! how much must that poor heart endure 

 Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure. 



Mr. Housman gives a great number of Wordsworth's sonnets. We 

 select the one on 



TWILIGHT. 



HAIL, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour ! 



Not dull art thou as undiscerning Night ; 



But studious only to remove from sight 



Day's mutable distinctions. Ancient Power ! 

 Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower, 



To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest 



Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest 



On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower 

 Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him was seen 



The self- same Vision which we now behold, 



At thy meek bidding, shadowy Power ! brought forth ; 

 These mighty barriers, and the gulf between 



The floods the stars a spectacle as old 



As the beginning of the heavens and earth ! 



Several of Hartley Coleridge's sonnets are given. We have only 

 space for that addressed 



TO A FRIEND. 



When we were idlers with the loitering rills, 

 The need of human love we little noted ; 

 Our love was Nature; and the peace that floated 

 On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills, 



To sweet accord subdued our wayward wills. 



One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted, 

 That, wisely doting, asked not why it doted ; 



