30 FLORA AND THALIA. 



Or lie reclin'd beneath yon spreading ash 

 Hung o'er the steep, whence, borne on liquid wing, 

 The sounding culver shoots ; or where the hawk 

 High in the beetling cliff his aerie builds. 

 There let the classic page thy fancy lead 

 Through rural scenes, such as the Mantuan swain 

 Paints in the matchless harrriony of song ; 

 Or catch thyself the landscape, gliding swift 

 Athwart imagination's vivid eye : 

 Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd, 

 And lost in lonely musing, in the dream 

 Confus'd, of careless solitude, where mix 

 Ten thousand wand'ring images of things. 

 Soothe ev'ry gust of passion into peace; 

 All but the swellings of the soften'd heart, 

 That waken, not disturb, the tranquil mind. 



THOMSON. 



THE PARTING OF SUMMER. 



Thou'rt bearing hence the roses, 



Glad Summer, fare thee well ! 

 Thou'rt singing thy last melodies 



In every wood and dell. 



Brightly, sweet Summer ! brightly 

 Thine hours have floated by. 



