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

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ta tqt tfringlb tl.tldi~m.

T aou blossom bright with autumn dew,

And colour'd with the heaven's own blue,

That openest when the quiet light

Suc:ceeda the keen and frosty night.

Thou comeat not when violet& lean

O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,

Or columbines, in purple dreea'd,

Nod o'er the ground-bird'a hidden neat.

Thou walteat late, and eom'at alone,

Wben woods are bare and birds are tlown,

And froeta and shortening days portend

The aged year is near hie end.

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye

Look through its fringes to the sky 1

Blue-blue-as if that sky let fall

A flower from ita cerulean wall.

· I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, bloMoming within the heart,
MAy look to heaven aa I depart. Baun.

D AFJI'O'OU.S,

That come before the swallow dares, and take

The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim,

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyee,

Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses,

That die unmarried, ere they can behold

Bright Pbcebus in hie etrenjlth, a malady

Mo,st incident to maida; bo[d oxlipa, and

The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinde,

The tloweN!e-luce being one I

13

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