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The winnowing store, and claim the And that, fair-spreading in a pebbled little boon

shore. Which Providence assigns them. One Urged to the giddy brink, much is the alone,

toil, The redbreast, sacred to the household The clamor much, of men, and boys, gods,

and dogs, Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, Ere the soft fearful people to the flood In joyless fields and thorny thickets Commit their woolly sides. And oft the leaves

swain, His shivering mates, and pays to trusted On some impatient seizing, hurls them

in : His annual visit. Half-afraid, he first Emboldened then, nor hesitating more, Against the window beats; then, brisk, Fast, fast, they plunge amid the flashing alights

wave, On the warm hearth; then, hopping And panting labor to the farthest shore. o'er the floor,

Repeated this, till deep the well-washed Eyes all the smiling family askance,

fleece And pecks, and starts, and wonders Has drunk the flood, and from his lively where he is

haunt Till, more familiar grown, the table- The trout is banished by the sordid crumbs

stream, Attract his slender feet. The foodless Heavy and dripping, to the breezy brow wilds

Slow move the harmless race; where, as Pour forth their brown inhabitants. The they spread hare,

Their swelling treasures to the sunny Though timorous of heart, and hard

ray, beset

Inly disturbed, and wondering what this By death in various forms, dark snares, wild and dogs,

Outrageous tumult means, their loud And more unpitying men, the garden complaints seeks,

The country fill — and, tossed from rock Urged on by fearless want. The bleat- to rock, ing kind

Incessant bleatings run around the hills. Eye the black heaven, and next the glis- At last, of snowy white, the gathered tening earth,

flocks With looks of dumb despair; then, sad Are in the wattled pen innumerous dispersed,

pressed, Dig for the withered herb through heaps Head above head; and ranged in lusty of snow.

The shepherds sit, and whet the sound

ing shears.

The housewife waits to roll her fleecy THE SHEEP-WASHING.

stores, [From Summer.]

With all her gay-drest maids attending OR rushing thence, in one diffusive round. band,

One, chief, in gracious dignity enthroned, They drive the troubled flocks, by many

Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, a dog Compelled, to where the mazy-running Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepbrook

herd-king; Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt While the glad circle round them yield and high,

their souls


and rays

To festive mirth, and wit that knows no Strained to the root, the stooping forest gall.

pours Meantime, their joyous task goes on A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves. apace:

High-beat, the circling mountains eddy Some mingling stir the melted tar, and in, some,

From the bare wild, the dissipated Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heav- storm, ing side,

And send it in a torrent down the vale. To stamp his master's cypher ready Exposed, and naked, to its utmost rage, stand;

Through all the sea of harvest rolling Others the unwilling wether drag along; round, And, glorying in his might, the sturdy The billowy plain floats wide; nor can boy

evade, Holds by the twisted horns the indig. Though pliant to the blast, its seizing nant ram.

force — Behold where bound, and of its robe Or whirled in air, or into vacant chaff bereft,

Shook waste. And sometimes too a By needy man, that all-depending lord, burst of rain, How meek, how patient, the mild crea- Swept from the black horizon, broad, ture lies!

descends What softness in its melancholy face, In one continuous flood. Still over head What dumb complaining innocence ap- The mingling tempest weaves its gloom, pears !

and still Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the

The deluge deepens; till the fields knife

around Of horrid slaughter that is o'er you Lie sunk, and flatted, in the sordid wave. waved;

Sudden, the ditches swell; the meadows No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided swim. shears,

Red, from the hills, innumerable streams Who having now, to pay his annual Tumultuous roar; and high above its care,

bank Borrowed your fleece, to you a cum- The river lift; before whose rushing brous load,

tide, Will send you bounding to your hills Herds, flocks, and harvests, cottages, again.

and swains, Roll mingled down: all that the winds

had spared, STORM IN HARVEST.

In one wild moment ruined; the big

hopes, [From Autumn.]

And well-earned treasures, of the painDEFEATING oft the labors of the year The sultry south collects a potent blast. Fled to some eminence, the husbandAt first, the groves are scarcely seen to man, stir

Helpless, beholds the miserable wreck Their trembling tops, and a still murmur Driving along; his drowning ox at once

Descending, with his labors scattered Along the soft-inclining fields of corn; round, But as the aërial tempest fuller swells, He sees; and instant o'er his shivering And in one mighty stream, invisible,

thought Immense, the whole excited atmosphere Comes Winter unprovided, and a train Impetuous rushes o'er the sounding Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, world,


ful year.


Be mindful of the rough laborious hand That sinks you soft in elegance and

ease; Be mindful of those limbs, in russet

clad, Whose toil to yours is warmth and

graceful pride; And, oh, be mindful of that sparing

board Which covers yours with luxury profuse, Makes your glass sparkle, and your

sense rejoice! Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains And all-involving winds have swept


The fallen verdure. Hushed in short

suspense, The plumy people streak their wings

with oil, To throw the lucid moisture trickling

off; And wait the approaching sign to strike,

at once, Into the general choir. Even moun

tains, vales, And forests seem, impatient, to demand The promised sweetness. Man superior

walks Amid the glad creation, musing praise, And looking lively gratitude. At last, The clouds consign their treasures to the

fields; And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture

flow, In large effusion, o'er the freshened



[From Spring.) At first a dusky wreath they seem to

rise, Scarce staining ether; but by fast de

grees, In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapor

sails Along the loaded sky, and mingling

deep, Sits on the horizon round a settled

gloom : Not such as wintry storms on mortals

shed, Oppressing life; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy, The wish of Nature. Gradual sinks the

breeze Into a perfect calm; that not a breath Is heard to quiver through the closing

woods, Or rustling turn the many twinkling

leaves Of aspen tall. The uncurling floods,

diffused In glassy breadth, seem through delusive

lapse Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence

all, And pleasing expectation. Herds and

flocks Drop the dry sprig, and, mute-imploring,


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For ever flushing round a summer sky:
There eke the soft delights, that witch-

Instil a wanton sweetness through the

breast, And the calm pleasures always hover’d

nigh; But whate'er smack'd of noyance, or

unrest, Was far far off expellid from this deli

cious nest.


TELL me, thou soul of her I love,

Ah! tell me, whither art thou fled; To what delightful world above,

Appointed for the happy dead.

Where never yet was creeping crea

ture seen. Meantime unnumber'd glittering

streamlets play'd And purled everywhere their waters

sheen; That as they bicker'd through the

sunny glade, Though restless still themselves, a lulling

murmur made. Join'd to the prattle of the purling

rills, Were heard the lowing herds along

the vale, And flocks loud-bleating from the

distant hills; And vacant shepherds piping in the

dale : And now and then sweet Philomel

would wail, Or stock-doves 'plain amid the forest

deep, That drowsy rustled to the sighing

gale; And still a coil the grasshopper did

keep; Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all

to sleep.
Full in the passage of the vale above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;
Where nought but shadowy forms

were seen to move,
As Idless fancy'd in her dreaming

mood : And up the hills, on either side, a

wood Of blackening pines, ay waving to

and fro, Sent forth a sleepy horror through

the blood; And where this valley winded out,

below, The murmuring main was heard, and

scarcely heard, to flow. A pleasing land of drowsy-head it

was, Of dreams that wave before the half

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shut eye;

And of gay castles in the clouds that


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1700-1765. [Son of a small inn-keeper in Crieff Perthshire, where he was born in the year 1700. Attended the College of Aberdeen, and became a tutor in the family of the Duke of Montrose. By his very considerable talents, management, and address, he soon rose in the world. In his latter days he held the office of Keeper of the Book of Entries for the port of London. He died on the 21st of April, 1765.]

WILLIAM AND MARGARET. 'Twas at the silent, solemn hour, “Awake,” she cried, “thy true love calls, When night and morning meet;

Come from her midnight grave; In glided Margaret's grimly ghost, Now let thy pity hear the maid, And stood at William's feet.

Thy love refused to save.

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