BONNETS. S9i 



merry, laughing slcy seemed to me the mourner's pall, and the soft 

 voice of Ellen came to me in every dash of the blue waters, in 

 every sig;h of the "winds, every rustle of the leaf. Long oblivious 

 disease fell like a mercy-gift upon me, and then I had only the 

 delirious dreams of departed joys, but they were balm to my soul ; 

 I drank in the draught, and as 1 slowly returned to life, the dreams 

 of fancy settled into the calmness of a subdued hope. 



Ellen I am thine for ever — in the many years of my existence — 

 in all the varied circumstances of it — the vow of my young heart 

 has given an elevation to my mind, and the bitterness of my 

 sorrows has raised rae superior to the troubles and sufferings of 

 life. 



SONNETS ON THE SCENERY OF THE MAI^VERN HILLS. 



I. 



The Worcestershire Beacoti, at Noon. 



Who treads with upward steps thy sov'reiffti height. 

 Majestic Malvern! when the breeze is high. 

 And clouds are trooping through the summer sky. 

 Spotting with shadowy tints the vale's green light. 

 Must own that ne'er his mind by fairer sight 

 Was fed with thoughts of beauty. Poet's art. 

 Nor painter's ready pencil can impart 

 The mingled charm of loveliness and might, 

 Which spell-binds every sense. He walks the earth, 

 Yet lifted seems beyond it : — the haunts of men, 

 Cities, and groves, and fields, and cottage home.?, 

 He looks upon as with an Angel's ken ; 

 For round him only spiritual sounds have birth. 

 And only Nature's sweetest breathing comes. 



II. 

 The Priory Church of Great Malvern. 



We in our generation are too proud :— 



Fancied monopolists of Learning's rays. 



We bask in the pale dream-light of self-praise. 



And talk with scornful wonder of the cloud 



Of mental darkness, that did once enshroud 



Anterior ages : — yet a moment's gaze 



Upon a sumptuous pile like this betrays 



Our self-conceit and arrogance. He, who vowed 



In a lone woodland chase a shrine to rear. 



And with elaborate skill this structure planned, 



The fine arch poised, and wrought the sculptur'd band. 



And bade the rude stone like living wreaths appear, — 



He who thus sewed his God with holy fear 



Chides us witli strong, thougli silent/ repriinand. 



E. S. 



