Like Milman, when Heroics gain no glory,
Write bulky Dramas nobody can play?
Or versify, as Barry Cornwall doth,

The thoughts of others-soft and soothing both?

Wilt thou, like Hogg, though tinctur'd with barbarity,

Tell most delightful tales of fairy isles?

Like Bloomfield, who has lost his popularity,
Sing very pleasingly of rural toils ?

Or throw, like Wilson, though too fond of dreams,
A light o'er nature which celestial seems?

THE CYPRESS TREE.

ANONYMOUS.

A SLENDER tree upon a height in lonely beauty towers,

So dark, as if it only drank the rushing thunder

showers;

When birds were at their ev'ning hymns, in thoughtful reverie,

I've mark'd the shadows deep and long from yonder cypress tree.

I've thought of oriental tombs, of silent cities, where In many a row the cypress stands, in token of despair;

And thought, beneath the ev'ning star, how many a maiden crept

From life's discordant scene, and o'er the tomb in silence wept.

I've thought, thou lonely cypress tree, thou hermit of the grove,

How many a heart, alas! is doom'd forlorn on earth to rove;

When all that charm'd the morn of life, and cheer'd the youthful mind,

Have like the sun-beams pass'd away, and left but clouds behind!

Thou wert a token unto me, thou stem with dreary leaf,

So desolate thou look'st, as earth were but a home of grief!

A few short years shall swiftly glide, and then thy boughs shall wave,

When tempests beat, and breezes sigh, above my silent grave!

A SUMMER EVENING CHURCH-YARD,
LECHLADE, GLOUCESTERSHIRE.

SHELLEY.

THE wind has swept from the wide atmosphere
Each vapour that obscur'd the sun-set's ray;
And pallid evening twines its beaming hair

In duskier braids around the languid eyes of day:
Silence and twilight, unbelov'd of men,
Creep hand in hand from yon obscurest glen.

They breathe their spells towards departing day," Encompassing the earth, air, stars, and sea; Light, sound, and motion, own the potent sway, Responding to the charm with its own mystery.

The winds are still, or the dry church-yard grass Knows not their gentle motions as they pass.

Thou too, aerial Pile! whose pinnacles

Point from one shrine, like pyramids of fire, Obey'st in silence their sweet solemn spells, Clothing in hues of heav'n thy dim and distant spire,

Around whose less'ning and invisible height
Gather among the stars the clouds of night.

The dead are sleeping in their sepulchres;

And, mouldering as they sleep, a thrilling sound, Half sense, half thought, among the darkness stirs, Breath'd from their wormy beds all living things around,

And, mingling with the still night and mute sky, Its awful hush is felt inaudibly.

Thus solemniz'd, and soften'd, death is mild
And terrorless as this serenest night:
Here could I hope, like some inquiring child
Sporting on graves, that death did hide from
human sight

Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep
That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.

SAPPHIC ODE.

To the Evening Star.

ANONYMOUS.

WHEN from the blue sky traces of the day-light Fade, and the night-winds murmur from the ocean; Then, on thy watch-tower, beautiful thou shinest, Star of the Evening!

Homewards the weary swain plods from his labour; From the dim vale comes the low of the oxen; Still are the woods, and the wings of the small birds Folded in slumber.

Thou art the lover's star! thou to his fond heart Ecstasy breathest; for, beneath thy soft ray, Under the green trees, down by the river, he Waits for his fair one.

Thou to the sad heart beacon art of solace-
Still to thee gazing turns the lonely mourner,
Past joys awak'ning, thou bid'st him be of comfort,
Smiling in silence.

Star of the Mariner! when the dreary ocean
Welters around him, and the breeze is moaning,
Fondly he deems thy radiant eye is dwelling
Bright on his cottage;

On his humble home, where sit by the warm hearth, Thinking of the absent, his wife and his children;In fancy's ear sounding, the hum of their voices Steals like a zephyr.

Farewell, thou bright Star! when woe and anguish Hung on this heart of mine with a load oppressive, When not on earth a single face was friendly,

Still thou wert smiling.

Soon shall the dawn arise, soon shall the night flee, Thou still dost usher in darkness and day-light; Through the storm glitter'st, and 'mid the blaze of morning,

Meltest in glory.

Thus through this dark earth journeys on the good

man,

Misfortune and malice tarnish not his glory; And the blest goal reach'd, the Star of his being Mingles with heaven.

STANZAS

On Visiting a Scene of Childhood.

ANONYMOUS.

LONG years had elaps'd since I gaz'd on the scene, Which my fancy still robed in its freshness of green; The spot where a school-boy all thoughtless I stray'd,

By the side of the stream, in the gloom of the shade.

I thought of the friends who had roam'd with me there,

When the sky was so blue, and the flowers were so fair;

All scatter'd-all sunder'd, by mountain and wave, And some in the cold silent womb of the grave!

I thought of the green banks that circled around, With wild flowers, with sweetbrier and eglantine crown'd;

I thought of the river, all moveless and bright As the face of the sky on a blue summer night.

And I thought of the trees under which we had stray'd,

Of the broad leafy boughs, with their coolness of

shade;