There's not a nook within this solemn Pass, But were an apt confessional for one Taught by his summer spent, his autumn gone, That Life is but a tale of morning grass...
O now that the genius of Bewick were mine, And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne. Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose, For I'd take my last leave both of verse and of prose....
The unremitting voice of nightly streams That wastes so oft, we think, its tuneful powers, If neither soothing to the worm that gleams Through dewy grass, nor small birds hushed in bowers,...
Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost With the least shade of thought to sin allied. Woman! above all women glorified, Our tainted nature's solitary boast; Purer than foam on central ocean tost;...
'Tis spent this burning day of June! Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing; The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling, That solitary bird Is all that can be heard...
Thus they, with freaks of proud delight, Beguile the remnant of the night; And many a snatch of jovial song Regales them as they wind along; While to the music, from on high,...
IF Wytheburn's modest House of prayer, As lowly as the lowliest dwelling, Had, with its belfry's humble stock, A little pair that hang in air, Been mistress also of a clock,...
Right gladly had the horses stirred, When they the wished-for greeting heard, The whip's loud notice from the door, That they were free to move once more. You think, those doings must have bred...
"Begone, thou fond presumptuous Elf," Exclaimed an angry Voice, "Nor dare to thrust thy foolish self Between me and my choice!" A small Cascade fresh swoln with snows...
High on a point of rugged ground Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell Above the loftiest ridge or mound Where foresters or shepherds dwell, An edifice of warlike frame Stands single Norton Tower its name...
From Bolton's old monastic tower The bells ring loud with gladsome power; The sun shines bright; the fields are gay With people in their best array Of stole and doublet, hood and scarf,...
'Tis night: in silence looking down, The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees A Camp, and a beleaguered Town, And Castle, like a stately crown On the steep rocks of winding Tees;...
The Harp in lowliness obeyed; And first we sang of the greenwood shade And a solitary Maid; Beginning, where the song must end, With her, and with her sylvan Friend;...
Why comes not Francis? From the doleful City He fled, and, in his flight, could hear The death-sounds of the Minster-bell: That sullen stroke pronounced farewell To Marmaduke, cut off from pity!...
Now joy for you who from the towers Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear, Telling melancholy hours! Proclaim it, let your Masters hear That Norton with his band is near!...
In trellised shed with clustering roses gay, And, MARY! oft beside our blazing fire, When yeas of wedded life were as a day Whose current answers to the heart's desire, Did we together read in Spenser's Lay...
In trellised shed with clustering roses gay, And, MARY! oft beside our blazing fire, When yeas of wedded life were as a day Whose current answers to the heart's desire,...