John Logan.

1748-1788.

TO THE CUCKOO.

Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Thou messenger of spring!
Now heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.

What time the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?

Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet
From birds among the bowers.

The school-boy, wandering through the wood
To pull the primrose gay,

Starts, the new voice of spring to hear,

And imitates thy lay.

What time the pea puts on the bloom,

Thou fliest thy vocal vale,

An annual guest in other lands,

Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year!

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!

We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the spring.

Sir William Jones.

1746–1794.

THE BABE (PERSIAN).

Naked on parent's knees, a new-born child, Weeping thou sat'st when all around thee smiled: So live, that sinking to thy last long sleep, Thou then mayst smile while all around thee weep.

William Blake.

1757-1828.

THE LITTLE BLACK BOY.

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but, oh, my soul is white !
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if bereaved of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree ;
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissèd me,

And, pointing to the East, began to say:

"Look on the rising sun; there God does live, And gives His light, and gives His heat away, And flowers, and trees, and beasts, and men receive

Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

"And we are put on earth a little space,

That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

"For, when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,

The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice Saying: 'Come from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.'"

Thus did my mother say, and kissèd me,

And thus I say to little English boy.

When I from black, and he from white cloud free,

And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our Father's knee;
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.

belen Maria Williams.
1762-1827.

WHILST THEE I SEEK.

Whilst Thee I seek, protecting Power,

Be

my vain wishes stilled!

And may this consecrated hour

With better hopes be filled.

Thy love the power of thought bestowed;
To Thee my thoughts would soar :
Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed,
That mercy I adore.

In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I see !

Each blessing to my soul more dear,
Because conferred by Thee.

In every joy that crowns my days,
In every pain I bear,

My heart shall find delight in praise,

Or seek relief in prayer.

When gladness wings my favored hour,
Thy love my thoughts shall fill;
Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower,
My soul shall meet Thy will.

My lifted eye, without a tear,
The gathering storm shall see ;
My steadfast heart shall know no fear;
That heart shall rest on Thee.

William Wordsworth.

1770-1850.

THE DAFFODILS.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils,

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay ;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company;

I gazed and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought;

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills;
And dances with the daffodils.