380 



PHCEBE ELLIOT. 



I, unseen, was near, 



And saw the bosom's sigh, the standing tear ! 

 She thought profoundly, for I stay'd to look, 

 And first she read, then laid aside her book ; 

 Then on her hand reclined her lovely head, 

 And seem'd unconscious of the tear she shed. 



CRABBE. 



IT was the middle of Summer. The sun had set 

 in its most glowing colours, behind the only hill 

 which the view from my window afforded ; but it 

 rose the next morning obscured by a heavy rain, 

 and a thick mist from the river. The prospect 

 was dreary, but as hope is ever springing in the 

 human breast, I still flattered myself that before 

 night closed I should be cheered with one ray of 

 sunshine, or one glimpse of heaven's clear blue 

 sky. The small trelliced porch, into which my 

 garden-door opened, was covered with jasmine 

 and honeysuckles, the drops from which fell on 

 my head, as I ventured out to take a better survey 

 of the horizon. Indeed, the rain was monotonous 

 to such a degree, that I began to make some un- 

 pleasant reflections on my present situation. I 

 was in solitude, not certainly forced upon me, like 



