XII. To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,-to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, Catching the notes of Philomel,-an eye That falls through the clear ether silently. XIII. ADDRESSED TO HAYDON. HIGH-MINDEDNESS, a jealousy for good, A loving-kindness for the great man's fame, A money-mongering, pitiable brood. Of steadfast genius, toiling gallantly! XIV. ADDRESSED TO THE SAME. GREAT spirits now on earth are sojourning: The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. Listen awhile, ye nations, and be dumb. XV. ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET. THE poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead: That is the grasshopper's-he takes the lead In summer luxury, he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. The poetry of earth is ceasing never: On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, And seems to one in drowsiness half lost, The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills. December 30, 1816. XVI TO KOSCIUSKO. GOOD Kosciusko! thy great name alone Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling; The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing, Are changed to harmonies, for ever stealing Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne, It tells me too, that on a happy day, When some good spirit walks upon the earth, |