Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes—

Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in-
Mountain and shattered cliff-and sunny vale-

The distant lake-fountains-and mighty trees--
In many a lazy syllable repeating

Their old poetic legends to the wind.

And this is the sweet spirit that doth fill

The world; and, in these wayward days of youth,

My busy fancy oft embodies it,

As a bright image of the light and beauty

That dwell in nature-of the heavenly forms.

LONGFELLOW.

A SPRING WALK.

HAT though the opening spring be chill! Although the lark, check'd in his airy path, Eke out his song, perch'd on the fallow clod That still o'ertops the blade! Although no branch Have spread its foliage, save the willow-wand That dips its pale leaves in the swollen stream! What though the clouds oft lour! Their threats but end In summer showers, that scarcely fill the folds

Of moss-couch'd violet, or interrupt

The merle's dulcet pipe,-melodious bird
He, hid behind the milk-white sloe-thorn spray,
(Whose early flowers anticipate the leaf,)
Welcomes the time of buds, the infant year.

Sweet is the sunny nook to which my steps

Have brought me, hardly conscious where I roamed,

Unheeding where, so lovely all around,
The works of God arrayed in vernal smile.
Oft at this season, musing, I prolong
My devious range, till, sunk from view, the sun
Emblaze, with upward-slanting ray, the breast
And wing unquivering of the wheeling lark,
Descending, vocal, from her latest flight;
While, disregardful of yon lonely star,—
The harbinger of chill night's glittering host,-
Sweet redbreast, Scotia's Philomela, chants,

In desultory strains, his evening hymn.

JAMES GRAHAME.

M

THE SUN.

OST glorious art thou! when from thy pavilion
Thou lookest forth at morning; flinging wide

Its curtain clouds of purple and vermilion,
Dispensing life and light on every side;

Brightening the mountain cataract, dimly spied
Through glittering mist; opening each dew-gemmed flower,
Or touching, in some hamlet, far descried,

Its spiral wreaths of smoke that upward tower,

While birds their matin sing from many a leafy bower.

And more magnificent art thou, bright Sun !
Uprising from the ocean's billowy bed:
Who that has seen thee thus, as I have done,
Can e'er forget the effulgent splendours spread
From thy emerging radiance? Upwards sped

Even to the centre of the vaulted sky,

Thy beams pervade the heavens, and o'er them shed
Hues indescribable-of gorgeous dye,

Making among the clouds mute glorious pageantry.

Then, then how beautiful, across the deep
The lustre of thy orient path of light!
Onward, still onward, o'er the waves that leap
So lovelily, and show their crests of white,
The eye unsated in its own despite,
Still up that vista gazes; till thy way

Over the waters seems a pathway bright

For holiest thoughts to travel, there to pay

Man's homage unto Him who bade thee "rule the Day."

BARTON.

SPRING.

THE great Sun,

Scattering the clouds with a resistless smile,
Came forth to do thee homage; a sweet hymn
Was by the low winds chaunted in the sky;
And when thy feet descended on the earth,
Scarce could they move amid the clustering flowers
By nature strewn o'er valley, hill, and field,

To hail her bless'd deliverer!-Ye fair trees,
How are ye changed, and changing while I gaze!

It seems as if some gleam of verdant light

Fell on you from a rainbow; but it lives
Amid your tendrils, brightening every hour
Into a deeper radiance. Ye sweet birds,
Were you asleep through all the wintry hours,
Beneath the waters, or in mossy caves?-

Yet are ye not

Sporting in tree and air, more beautiful

Than the young lambs, that, from the valley-side,
Send a soft bleating like an infant's voice,
Half happy, half afraid! O blessed things!
At sight of this your perfect innocence,
The sterner thoughts of manhood melt away
Into a mood as mild as woman's dreams.

A LANDSCAPE.

WEET was the scene! apart the cedars stood, A sunny islet open'd in the wood; With vernal tints the wild-brier thicket glows, For here the desert flourish'd as the rose; From sapling trees with lucid foliage crown'd, Gay lights and shadows twinkled on the ground:

Up the tall stems luxuriant creepers run
To hang their silver blossoms in the sun;
Deep velvet verdure clad the turf beneath,

Where trodden flowers their richest odours breathe: