The Spider. The Rose. *149 THE SPIDER. THEtreach'rous spider when her nets are spread, DRYDEN. THE ROSE. CHILD of Summer, lovely rose, 150 The Stream of the Desert.-The Balloon. THE STREAM OF THE DESERT. IF from lone cliffs a bursting rill expands streams; With foamy jaws beneath and sanguine tongue, Laps the lean wolf, and pants and runs along; Stern stalks the lion on the rustling brinks, Hears the dread snake, and trembles as he drinks: Quick darts the scaly monster o'er the plain, Fold after fold, his undulating train; And, bending o'er the lake his crested brow, Starts at the crocodile that gapes below. DARWIN. THE BALLOON. So, on the shoreless air the intrepid Gaul Launch'd the vast concave of his buoyant ball; Journeying on high the silken castle glides, Bright as a meteor, through the azure tides; O'er towns, and tow'rs, and temples wins its way, Or mounts sublime, and gilds the vault of day. Silent, with upturn'd eyes, unbreathing crowds Pursue the floating wonder to the clouds: And flush'd with transport, or ben umb'd with fear, Watch, as it rises, the diminish'd sphere. Now less and less!-and now a speck is seen! And now the fleeting rack intrudes between! The calm philosopher in æther sails, Views broader stars, and breathes in purer gales; Sees, like a map, in many a waving line Round earth's blue plains her lucid waters shine; Sees at his feet the forked lightnings glow, And hears the harmless thunders roar below. DARWIN. ENGLISH RIVERS. -FROM his oozy bed Old father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head. Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood, Who swell with tributary urns his flood. 152 The Coming of a Shower. First, the fam'd authors of his ancient name, РОРЕ, THE COMING OF A SHOWER. Now the light swallow, with her airy brood, Skims the green meadow and the dimpled flood, Loud shrieks the lone thrush from his leafless thorn; Th' alarmed beetle sounds his bugle horn; Each pendant spider winds with fingers fine His ravell'd clue, and climbs along the line; Through the still air descend the genial showr's, And pearly rain-drops deck the laughing flow'rs. DARWIN. The Sweets of Contentment. 153 THE SWEETS OF CONTENTMENT. No glory I covet, no riches I want, Ambition is nothing to me; The one thing I beg of kind Heaven to grant, Is a mind independent and free. With passion unruffled, untainted with pride, By reason my life let me square : The wants of my nature are cheaply supplied; And the rest is but folly and care. The blessings which Providence freely has lent, I'll justly and gratefully prize; While sweet meditation and cheerful content Shall make me both healthful and wise. In the pleasures the great man's possessions display, Unenvied I'll challenge my part; For ev'ry fair object my eyes can survey |