While with the mounting sun the meadow glows,
The fading herbage round he loosely throws.
But if some sign portend a lasting shower,
Th' experienc'd swain forsees the coming hour;
His sun-burnt hands the scatt'ring fork forsake,
And ruddy damsels ply the saving rake;
In rising hills the fragrant harvest grows,
And spreads along the field in equal rows.
WHEN heifers seek the shade and cooling lake, And in the middle pathway basks the snake; O lead me, guard me, from the sultry hours! Hide me, ye forests, in your closet bowers! Where the tall oak his spreading arms entwines, And with the beech a mutual shade combines; Where flows the murm'ring brook, inviting dreams,
Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams, Whose rolling current winding round and round With frequent falls makes all the wood resound; Upon the mossy couch my limbs I cast,
And e'en at noon the sweets of ev'ning taste.
LITTLE flutt'rer! swiftly flying,
Here is none to harm thee near;
Kite, nor hawk, nor school-boy prying;
Little flutt'rer! cease to fear.
One who would protect thee ever,
From the school-boy, kite, and hawk,
Musing, now obtrudes, but never
Dreamt of plunder in his walk.
He no weasel, stealing slily,
Would permit thy eggs to take;
Nor the pole-cat, nor the wily
Adder, nor the writhed snake.
May no cuckoo, wandering near thee,
Lay her egg within thy nest;
Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee,
Be destroy'd by such a guest!
The Approach of a Storm.
Little flutt'rer! swiftly flying,
Here is none to harm thee near;
Kite, nor hawk, nor school boy prying;
Little flutt'rer! cease to fear.
THE APPROACH OF A STORM.
ERE yet the rising winds begin to roar,
The working seas advance to wash the shore;
Soft whispers run along the leafy woods,
And mountains whistle to the murm'ring floods:
Ev'n then the doubtful billows scarce abstain
From the tost vessel on the troubled main,
When crying cormorants forsake the sea,
And stretching to the covert wing their way;
When sportful coots run skimming o'er the
strand;
When watchful herons leave their wat❜ry stand,
And, mounting upward, with erected flight,
Gain on the skies, and soar above the sight.
And oft before tempestuous winds arise,
The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies,
And, shooting thro' the darkness, gild the night
With sweeping glories, and long trails of light:
And chaff, with eddy winds, is whirl'd around; And dancing leaves are lifted from the ground; And floating feathers on the waters play.
But when the winged thunder takes his way From the cold north, and east and west engage, And at their frontiers meet with equal rage, The clouds are crush'd, a flood of gather'd rain The hollow ditches fills, and floats the plain, And sailors furl their dropping sheets amain.
THE huntsman, with merry-ton'd horn,
Bids valleys and mountains resound,
And early goes out in the morn
To chase the fleet hare o'er the ground:
With him through thick woodlands I fly,
Through dangers, wild rivers, and rocks;
While musical hounds in full cry,
Run swift in pursuit of the fox.
CONSTANTINOPLE.
WHERE the Thracian channel roars
On lordly Europe's eastern shores,
Where the proudly jutting land
Frowns on Asia's western strand,
High on seven hills is seen to shine
The second Rome of Constantine.
Beneath her feet, with graceful pride,
Propontis spreads his ample tide;
His fertile banks profusely pour,
Of luscious fruits, a varied store;
Rich with a thousand glittering dyes
His flood a finny shoal supplies;
While crowding sails on rapid wing,
The rifled south's bright treasures bring.
With crescents gleaming to the skies
Mosques and minarets arise;
Mounted on whose topmost wall
The turban'd priests to worship call;
The mournful cypress rises round,
Tap'ring from the burial-ground;
Olympus, ever capp'd with snow,
Crowns the busy scene below.
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