Feelings, affections, destined now to die, Death-like, and gathering more and more, till Death What now to thee the treasure of thy Youth? But thou canst not yet reflect The monstrous birth of one eventful day, Hover, uncalled. Thy young and innocent heart, But thine exhausted frame has sunk to rest. THE FIRE-FLY. THERE is an Insect, that, when Evening comes, Unsheaths his wings* and thro' the woods and glades Blazing by fits as from excess of joy,† Thousands as bright as he, from dusk till dawn, In the mother's lap Well may the child put forth his little hands, *He is of the beetle-tribe. "For, in that upper clime, effulgence comes Singing the nursery-song he learnt so soon; Spangling her head with stars.' Oft have I met This shining race, when in the TUSCULAN groves * There is a song to the lucciola in every dialect of Italy; as for instance in the Genoese. "Cabela, vegni a baso; Ti dajo un cuge de lette." The Roman is in a higher strain. "Bella regina," &c. + I did not tell you that just below the first fall, on the side of the rock, and hanging over that torrent, are little ruins Reveals itself. -Yet cannot I forget Him, who rejoiced me in those walks at eve,* Through the green leaves, a ray serene and clear which they show you for Horace's house, a curious situation to observe the 'Præceps Anio, et Tiburni lucus, et uda * The glow-worm. GRAY's Letters. FOREIGN TRAVEL. Ir was in a splenetic humour that I sat me down to my scanty fare at TERRACINA; and how long I should have contemplated the lean thrushes in array before me, I cannot say, if a cloud of smoke, that drew the tears into my eyes, had not burst from the green and leafy boughs on the hearth-stone. Why,' 6 I exclaimed, starting up from the table, why did I leave my own chimney-corner?-But am I not on the road to BRUNDUSIUM? And are not these the very calamities that befel HORACE and VIRGIL, and MECENAS, and PLOTIUS, and VARIUS? HORACE laughed at them-Then why should not I? HORACE resolved to turn them to account; and VIRGILcannot we hear him observing, that to remember them will, by and by, be a pleasure?' My soliloquy reconciled me at once to my fate; and when for the twentieth time I had looked through the window on a sea sparkling with innumerable brilliants, a sea on |