182(3.] 



point its undifitinpuisliable and as uninte- 

 restinar as another; but the poet has trodden 

 every foot of it, and marks every angle and 

 aspect of its varyinfr surface. He has 

 peopled every spot with abirtiiip; recollec- 

 tions ; every brook and every tree lias a 

 distinct existence ; every baliblinpf rill its 

 own music ; every rock its own echo ; 

 every oak its own foliape ; every breeze its 

 own s^'cll ; and every harebell its own 

 celestial blue — and he has an eye and an 

 ear to catch and mark them all. To des- 

 cribe a specimen of these things gives no 

 relief to the intensity of his sensations— he 

 has a thousand shades of discrimination, 

 and no rccordinL,' exhausts the delicate dis- 

 tinctions of liis long and intimate observa- 

 tion. And hence, at the first glance, he 

 will seem to be frequently repeating him- 

 self, wliere his own fancy presented strong 

 lines of difference, and which a further 

 perusal would readily enable ourselves to 

 detect. 



Theopeningaddress"to Devonshire" has 

 something very sweet and gentle about it, 

 and as an assemblage of phrases is as per- 

 fect as laiiguaye can make it. 



Thou hast a cloud 

 For ever in thy sky — a breeze, a shower. 

 For ever on thy meads ;— yet where shall man. 

 Pursuing Spring around the globe, refresh 

 His eye with scenes more beauteous than adorn 

 Thy fieldsof matchless verdure ? Not the south, — 

 Tile glowing south — with all its azure skies. 

 And aromatic groves, and fruits that melt 

 At the rapt touch, and decp-hucd flowers that light 

 Their tints at zenith suns — has charms like thine. 

 Though fresh the gale that ruffles thy wild seas. 

 And wafts the frequent cloud. I own the power 

 Of Local Sympathy, that o'er the fair 

 Throws more divine allurement, and o'er all 

 The great more grandeur ; and ray kindling muse. 

 Fired by the universal passion, pours 

 Haply a partial lay. Forgive the strain 

 F.namour'd ; for to man, in every clime. 

 The sweetest, dearest, noblest spot below. 

 Is that which gives him birth ; and long it wears 

 .\ charm unbroken, and its honour'd name, 

 Hallow'd by memory, is fondly breathed 

 With his last lingering sigh ! 

 There is genuine warmth in the descrip- 

 tion of a summer's morning. 

 How beautiful is morning, though it rise 

 Upon a desert! What though Spring refuse 

 Her odours to the early gale that sweeps 

 The highland solitude, yet who can breathe 

 That fresh, keen gale, nor feel the sanguine tide 

 Of life flow buoyantly 1 O who can look 

 Upon the Sun, whose beam indulgent shines 

 Impartial, or on moor or cultured mead. 

 And not feel gladness f Hard is that man's lot. 

 Bleak is his journey throunh this vale of tears. 

 Whose heart is not made lighter, and whose eye 

 Is brighten'd not by morning's glorious ray. 

 Wide glancing round. The meanest thing on earth 

 Rejoices in the welcome warmth, and owns 

 Its influence reviving. Hark the hum 

 Of one who loves the morn, — the bee who cornea 

 With overflow of happiness, to spend 

 The sunny hour; and see ! across the waste 

 The butterfly, his gay companion, floats ; — 

 A wanderer, haply, from yon Austral field*. 



Domestic and Foreisn. 



629 



Or from tlie bank of moorland ftream th.it flow« 

 In music through the dee|> and theltet'd vales. 



The Logan-stone. » 



And near the edjre 

 Of the loud brawling stream a Logan stands. 

 Haply self-poised, for Nature loves to work 

 Such miracles as these amid the depths 

 Of forest solitudes. Her magic hand 

 With silent chisel fashion'd the rough rock. 

 And placed the central icei/dit so tenderl.v. 

 That filmcist to the passing breeze it yields 

 Su*)missivc mottMi. 



Sunset ; wo know not where this is 

 6uq)assed. 



The zenith spreads 

 Its canopy of sapphire, but the West 

 Has a magnificent array of clouds ; 

 And, as the breeze plays on them, they assume 

 The forms of mountains, castled rllfls. and hllln, 

 Deep-rifted glens, ?nd groves, and lieetling rocks ; 

 And some that seem far off, are voyaging 

 Their sim-bright path In folds of silver ;—som8 

 In golden masses float, and others have 



Edgings of burning crimson Isles are seen, 



All lovely, set within an emerald sea; 

 And there .ire dyes in the rich heavens,— such 

 As sparkle in the grand and gorgeous plume 

 Of Juno's favourite bird, or deck the scaled 

 And wreathing serpent. 



Never, from the birth 

 Of time, were scatter'd o'er the glowing sky 

 More splendid colourings. Evcr^- varying hue 

 Of every beautiful thing on earth,— the tints 

 Of heaven's own Iris,— all are in the West 

 On this delicious eve. 



But now tha sun 

 Is veil'd a moment, and the expansive waste 

 At once is wrapp'd in shade. The song has ceased 

 Of the rejoicing earth and sky ;— the breeze 

 Sighs pensively along ; the moorland streams 

 Appear less lovely, and on Fancy's ear 

 Complaining flow. Again the shadows fly 

 Before the glancing beam ;— again the sun— 

 The conquering sun resumes his state ; and he 

 That with Elysian foTtis and hues bedecks 

 So gloriously the skies, cheers thee,— e'en thee,— 

 Thou solitary one ; — the verv heart 

 Of the wild Moor is glad ! The eye discerns 

 The mountain-ridges sweep away in vast 

 And regular succession : — w.ive on wave 

 Boiling and glittering in the sun, — uitil 

 They reach the utmost West. The lark is up 

 Exulting in the bright blue heav'n :— the streams 

 Leap wantonly adown the laughing slopes; 

 And on the ear the poetry of bells. 

 Far borne by Auster's welcome gale, is heard ; 

 All else is mute,— silently happy,— Earth 

 Reposes in the sunset. 



Let me gaze 

 At the great vision ere it pass ; for now 

 The day-god hovers o'er the western hill. 

 And sheds his last fond ray. Farewell ! farewell ! 

 Who givest beauty to the cloud, and light- 

 Joy, music, to the earth ! And must yon tints 



And shapes divine which thou hast form'd, decay 



The mountain, and the temple, and the tower. 

 That float in yonder fields of air ;— the isles 

 Of all surpassing loveliness ; and seas 

 Of glorious emerald, that seem to flow 

 Around the gold-fringetl reefs and rocks :— must all 

 Vanish, with thee, at the remorseless touch 

 Of the swift-coming twilight ! 



■They will fade,— 

 Those hues and forms enchanting. Sec behind 



