906 ANNUALREGISTER, 1809. 



O let, with their's, your mingling ensigns fly, 



In the great cause of injured Liberty ! 

 Go forth, my sons, and to the world declare. 

 When suffering Freedom calls, Britannia's arms are there ! 



PICTURE OF A BRIGHT FROSTY DAY. 

 [From Grahame's British Georgics.] 

 UDDY is now the dawning as in June, 



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And clear and blue the vault of noon-tide sky : 

 Nor is the slanting orb of day unfelt. 

 From sunward rocks, the icicle's faint drop, 

 By lonely river-side, is heard at times 

 To break the silence deep : for now the stream 

 Is mute, or faintly gurgles far below 

 Its frozen ceiling : silent stands the mill, 

 The wheel immovable, and shod with ice. 

 The babbling rivulet, at each little slope, 

 Flows scantily beneath a lucid veil, 

 And seems a pearly current liquitied ; 

 "U bile, at the sheivy side, in thousand shapes 

 Fantastical, the frostwork domes uprear 



Their tiny fabrics, &c. 



Spotless parterres, all freakt with snow-white flowers. 



Flowers that no archetype in nature own ; 



Or spreads the piky crystals into fields 



Of bearded grain, rustling in autumn breeze. 



A SUMMER DAWN. 

 [From the same.] 



YES, — let the husbandman arouse to toil, 

 While yet the sky a deep empurpled tint 

 Northward displays, — before the corncraik's call 

 In mist-veiled meads awake the nestling lark, 

 To hail the dawn. Sweet is the dubious bound 

 Of night and morn, when spray and plant are drenched 

 In dew; sweet now the odour-breathing birch. 

 The gaudy broom, the orchard's blushing boughs. 

 The milk-white thorn, on which the blackbird roosts, 

 Till light he shakes his ruffling plumes, and chants 

 His roundelay ; and sweet the bean-field rows, 

 'Tween which the drilling plough is artful steered. 

 Shaking the dew-drop gently from the bloom. 

 Thence ori their lingering wings the west winds-waft 

 A balmy odour ; struck with new delight. 

 The toil-worn traveller pauses on his way. 



Perhaps 



