A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

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OBDA'n by thia hope ehe benda her thither;-
Still lAughs the radiant eye of heaven,
Nor have the golden bowen of enn
In the rich Weat begun to wither;-
When, o'er the vale of BALBIIO wioging
Slowly 1 abe sees a child at play,
Among tbe roey wild·ilowers singing,
AA roa1. and u wild u they ;
Chaeing, wtth eager banda and eyea,
The beAutiful blue damael-1liee, •
That tlutter'd round the jasmine etema
Like wingad ftowers or tlying gema :-
.And, near the boy wheA tired with play
Now nestling 'mid the roeea hly,
Sbe eaw a wearied man dismount
From his hot steed, and on the brink
Of a amaU imaret's rustic fount t
Impatient tling him down to drink.
Then lftl'if\ his haggard brow he turn'd
To the fair child who fearleea sat,
Though never yet hath day·biWD burn'd
Upon a brow more fierce than that,-
Sulleoly fierce-a mixture dire,
Like thtiJlder clouds of gloom and fire;
In which the Put's eye could read
Uark: tales of many a ruthleaa deed;
The ruin'd maid-the shrine profaned-
Oatha broken-tUld the threshold etadn'd
With blood of gueata I tkre written, all
Black aa the dAmning drops that fall
From the denouncing augel'a pen,
Ere mercy wipes them out again.
Yet tranquil now that man of crime
{AI if the balmy evening time
Soften'd bis spirit) look'd and lay,
Watching the rosy inf&nt'e play:-
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance
Fell on the boy's, ite lurid glance
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