416 
Nevus from Parnassus.. .No. XII. 
V \ 
And vines depress’d with purple clusters 
stand, 
And, bending-, seem to lure the willing 
hand ; 
While from the barks ambrosial gums 
distil, 
And all the air with heav’nly odours dll. 
May J, -when burns the noontide sun 
be laid, 
Beneath some weeping willow’s friendly 
shade, , 
Where on the verdant bank, with thyme 
o’erspread, 
The modest bluebell hangs its fragrant 
head ; 
Or sad Narcissus, leaning o’er the stream 
Indulges yet the lovely, fatal dream. 
There idly watch the bubbles as they 
pass, 
Or count the wavings of the silky grass ; 
Yet through the op’ning wood, in distant 
scene, 
The fields of golden coni, the meadows 
green, 
And mountains fading in the azure sky, 
With contrast apt shall charm my ravish’d 
eye. 
Let here a peaceful cot adorn the plain, 
Or nod the ruins of a mould’ring fane ; 
The regal palace there shall proudly rise, 
And, like another Babe!, dare the skies j 
Or humble spire uplift the pious eye, 
Yet prove but Earth how low and Heav’n 
how high. 
Nor seldom let the swiftly-gliding sail 
With white and swelling bosom court the 
* g’ale. 
Where hoary Thames his tide exhaustless 
pours, 
And bears Britannia’s wealth to farthest 
shores: 
While playful wand-’ring from the parent 
stream, 
A thousand riv’lets through the forest 
gleam, 
Meand’ring bright- o’er painted meads 
around. 
Then fall in broad cascades with lulling 
sound. 
Let evening bring the cool and silent 
hour; 
The sun with beauty fill his void of pow’r, 
As, glancing o'er the waves his crimson 
eye, 
One mutual blush o’erspreads the sea and 
sky. 
Delightful then, all earthly cares forgot, 
To sit in some sequester’d mossy grot, 
While scarce a reed by waving wind is 
stirr’d, 
And floating on the silent air is heard 
Some home-returning peasant’s artless 
rhyme, 
Or o’er the lake the faintly tolling chime ! 
But when, at length, each weary sense 
desires 
Refreshing sleep, (for even pleasure tires ;) 
[Dee. I, 
M hen h’des the day behind the purpled' 1 
hill; " I 
\»hen now no more is heard the mar- I 
m’ring rill, 
And e’en the zephyr’s gentle breath is ; 
still; 
When hush’d is ev’ry bird’s mellifluous note 
E’en Philomela’s sweetly plaintive throat; 
When slumb’ring Nature veil surrounding 
shades, 
And not a sound her calm repose invades; 
No more let me untimely vigils keep, 
But thank the God of all, and sink to 
sleep. 
And then, as on the world I close mine 
eyes, 
Let other worlds the realms of Fancy rise, 
Where ev’ry bliss is perfect in its kind, 
And ev’ry blest enjoyment uqconfln’d ; 
Some wider views—that ever new appear ; 
Some sweeter sounds—that never tire the 
ear ; 
Some fairer fiow’rs—that ne’er conceal a 
thorn ; 
Some brighter clays—that beam with con¬ 
stant morn : 
Till waking early—vanish’d all—I haste 
As much of real good as mortals can to 
taste. 
After this long extract, we cannot, 
as we had originally intended, afford 
room for the interesting tale of Edwin 
and Ellen, which we had noted as a 
specimen of the author’s talents in 
narrative poetry. This we regret the 
moie, as it is one of the most beautiful 
pieces in the whole collection ; but we 
cannot prevail upon ourselves. to ex¬ 
tract a part and not the whole ; as that 
course, while it proved unsatisfactory 
to our readers, could not but he injuri¬ 
ous to the talents of ourauthor. 
Of the miscellaneous poetry, the 
verses addressed 44 To a Stoic Friend,” 
deserve especial notice. They are re¬ 
markable for that easy playfulness of 
construction, which is this gentleman’s 
forte, of which we would recommend 
the t&sidious cultivation. 
Stubborn is be that was never subdu’d; 
Proud is the spirit that never has sued ; 
Dull is the eye that has never been 
charm’d; 
Cold is the heart that has never been 
warm’d. 
Then yield to the gentle dominion of love, 
And sue for his pleasures, all treasures 
above ; 
Illumine thine eyes at fair Venus’s gaze, 
And kindle thy heart at young Hymen’s 
pure blaze. 
The verses 44 O 11 Hearing a Selection 
from the Messiah,” are undoubtedly the 
best of the poems on Particular Occa¬ 
sions ; but as these are too long for in¬ 
sertion 
