226 LITERARY NOTICE. 



" How sweet t* inhale the odours of the field, 



Diffused profusely through the ambient air, 



And feast my eyes upon the landscape wide; 



To ' look through nature up to nature's God/ 



Whose hand creative spread this beauteous scene, 



And raise to him an evening song of praise 



Not unacceptable, when offered up 



With pure intention, gratitude and love, 



Like incense fragrant. Sweet it is to sing 



With him of olden time, the raptur'd bard — 



He, who, bereft of sight corporeal. 



With mental vision, retrospective view'd 



Fair Eden's lovely bowers, saw the first man 



Our great progenitor, fresh from the hands 



Of his Creator, upriglit and unfallen 



And in primeval state of innocence ; 



Heard his first song of praise and caught this strain 



* These are thy glorious works.* " 



" Wood-nymphs, haste from you retreats ; 

 Rifle Flora of her sweets ; 

 Pluck the fragrance of the meads; 

 Strew the wild-flowers where he treads. 



See the gardens and the bow'rs. 

 Offer sweet exotic flow'rs : 

 Of their varied hues combined, 

 Weave a wreath his brows to bind. 



Come — and from your wood-land scenes. 



Bring the choicest evergreens : 



Let a leafy crown be made, 



Place it, wood-nymphs, on his head." 



"My rural home, my rural home; 

 What tho* at times from thee I roam ; 

 No other spot has charms for me ; 

 * My heart untravel'd turns to thee.' 



Let restless minds incessant rove, 



And seek the frequent change they love — 



Their idol novelty pursue ; 



Sweet home, to me thou'rt ever new. 



My rural home, my rural home ; 

 Tho' round the world my feet should roam, 

 Unrival'd still, thy charms will shine. 

 And still my constant heart be thine." 



