220 SONNETS. 



" Saville the second might marry Miss Johnstone," interrupted 

 Charles. 



" Exactly so, Sir," said Twigg; "it 's the way they does it in 

 books, and plays, and novels, and — " 



" Perfectly natural," said Saville. 



" Very, Sir," said Twigg. 



IIOOK. 



ON BAIR DOWN, DARTMOOR. 



Thou dell of vernal freshness and delight ! 



Set like a radiant jewel 'mid the steeps; 

 Sheltered and clasped by every rugged height 



That o'er each nook Titanic vigil keeps, — 



I seek thee, and I love thee, — even when creeps 

 The twilight breeze amid thy sprays so slight ; 



Or through thy dark pines waving, into heaps 

 Tosses their massy bows with giant might. 

 And unto thee I come, and where the wave 



Of waters, turbulent or placid, flows, 

 I wander too, and watch those billows lave 



Their moss-grown banks, and blossoms of repose: 

 Bright wave ! sweet banks ! where thy young Genius gave 



His own pure breath to every bud that blows. 



MIDNIGHT. 



Thou quiet Midnight — starred with worlds divine, 

 My hour congenial! when all human stir 



Is hushed and gone,— and Nature doth prefer 

 A shadow and a glory, like to thine : 



When this great Universe becomes a shrine 

 Of majesty and power; a register 

 And chronicle, whose pages cannot err, 



Blazoned in gems of God's eternal mine. 



This darkness is but that their beam may pour 

 Brighter on eyes material ; and display 

 In the full glow of each immortal ray. 



Knowledge, ekrth's sullen hearts had not before; 



Winning, while ever showing more and more. 

 The eloquent lesson, none can teach as they. 



From " Castalian Hours'^ 



