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AN ITALIAN SONG.
little native vale, The ring-dove builds and murmurs there ; Close by my cot she tells her tale To every passing villager. The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, And shells his nuts at liberty.
In orange-groves and myrtle-bowers,
The shepherd's horn at break of day,
TO THE BUTTERFLY.
Child of the sun! pursue thy rapturous flight,
THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND,
SEPTEMBER 2, 1812.
Blue was the loch, the clouds were gone,
Thy kirk-yard wall among the trees, with age, the dial stands
; That dial so well known to me! -Tho' many a shadow it had shed, Beloved Sister, since with thee The legend on the stone was read.
The fairy isles fled far away ; That with its woods and uplands green, Where shepherd-huts are dimly seen, And songs are heard at close of day; That too, the deer's wild covert, fled, And that, the asylum of the dead : While, as the boat went merrily, Much of Rob Roy the boatman told ; His arm that fell below his knee, His cattle-ford and mountain-hold.
Tarbat,* thy shore I climbed at last ; And, thy shady region passed, Upon another shore I stood, And looked upon another flood ;f Great Ocean's self! ('Tis He who fills That vast and awful depth of hills ;)
* Signifying in the Gaelic language an Isthmus.
Where many an elf was playing round,
Night fell ; and dark and darker grew.
half-descried, Black and huge above the tide ; The cliffs and promontories there, Front to front, and broad and bare; Each beyond each, with giant-feet Advancing as in haste to meet; The shattered fortress, whence the Dane Blew his shrill blast, nor rushed in vain, Tyrant of the drear domain ; All into midnight-shadow sweepWhen day springs upward from the deep !* Kindling the waters in its flight, The prow wakes splendour ; and the oar, That rose and fell unseen before, Flashes in a sea of light !
* A phenomenon described by many navigators.
Glad sign and sure! for now we hail
Oh blest retreat and sacred too!
AN INSCRIPTION IN THE CRIMEA.
SHEPHERD, or Huntsman, or worn Mariner,