Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, Around my ivy'd porch shall spring and apron blue. The village-church, among the trees, Where first our marriage-vows were given, With merry peals shall swell the breeze, And point with taper spire to heaven. 12. allez TO THE GNAT. When by the green-wood side, at summer eve, -Ah now thy barbed shaft, relentless fly, TREAD lightly here, for here, 'tis said, groves, With ruffled wing and faded breast, His friendless, homeless spirit roves; -Gone to the world where birds are blest! Where never cat glides o’er the green, Or school-boy's giant form is seen ; But Love, and Joy, and smiling Spring Inspire their little souls to sing ! * Inscribed on an urn in the flower-garden at Hafod. D D DEAR is my little native vale, The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, In orange-groves and myrtle-bowers, The shepherd's horn at break of day, |