COMB.

VIEW FROM THE TOP OF BLACK At thorns, and brakes, and brambles,—and, in truth, More ragged than need was. Among the woods;

THIS Height a ministering Angel might

select:

name

For from the summit of BLACK-COMв (dread
Derived from clouds and storms!) the am-
plest range

Of unobstructed prospect may be seen
That British ground commands:-low dusky
tracts,

Where Trent is nursed, far southward!
Cambrian Hills

To the south-west, a multitudinous show;
And, in a line of eye-sight linked with these,
The hoary Peaks of Scotland that give birth
To Tiviot's Stream, to Annan, Tweed, and
Clyde ;-

Crowding the quarter whence the sun comes
forth

Gigantic Mountains rough with crags; beneath,

And o'er the pathless rocks, I forced my way
Until, at length, I came to one dear nook
Unvisited, where not a broken bough
Drooped with its withered leaves, ungra-
cious sign

Of devastation, but the hazels rose
Tall and erect, with milk-white clusters hung,
A virgin-scene!-A little while I stood,
Breathing with such suppression of the heart
As joy delights in; and, with wise restraint
Voluptuous, fearless of a rival, eyed
The banquet,—or beneath the trees I sate,
Among the flowers, and with the flowers I
played;

A temper known to those, who, after long
And weary expectation, have been blessed
With sudden happiness beyond all hope.-
Perhaps it was a bower beneath whose
leaves

The violets of five seasons re-appear
And fade, unseen by any human eye;
Where fairy water-breaks do murmur on
For ever, and I saw the sparkling foam,
And with my cheek on one of those green

stones

Right at the imperial Station's western base,
Main Ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched
Far into silent regions blue and pale ;-
And visibly engirding Mona's Isle
That, as we left the Plain, before our sight
Stood like a lofty Mount, uplifting slowly,
(Above the convex of the watery globe)
Into clear view the cultured fields that streak
Its habitable shores; but now appears
A dwindled object, and submits to lie
At the Spectator's feet.-Yon azure Ridge,
Is it a perishable cloud? Or there
Do we behold the frame of Erin's Coast?
Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure,

That, fleeced with moss, beneath the shady
trees,

swain,

Lay round me, scattered like a flock of sheep. I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound,

In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to
pay

The heart luxuriates with indifferent things,
Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones,
And on the vacant air. Then up I rose,
And dragged to earth both branch and bough,
with crash

And merciless ravage; and the shady nook
Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower,
Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up
Their quiet being: and, unless I now
Confound my present feelings with the past,
Even then, when from the bower I turned
away

Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings,
I felt a sense of pain when I beheld
The silent trees and the intruding sky.-
Then, dearest Maiden! move along these
shades

In gentleness of heart; with gentle hand
Touch-for there is a spirit in the woods

THE PERFECT WOMAN.

SAE was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did 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 shew 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.

POWER OF MUSIC.

AN Orpheus! An Orpheus!-yes, Faith may
grow bold,

And take to herself all the wonders of old;-
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with

the same,

If a Thief could be here he might pilfer at

ease;

She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees!

He stands, back'd by the Wall;-he abates not his din;

His hat gives him vigour, with boons drop-
ping in,

From the Old and the Young, from the
Poorest; and there!
The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare.

O blest are the Hearers and proud be the
Hand

Of the pleasure it spreads through so thank-
ful a Band;

I am glad for him, blind as he is!-all the while

If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile.

In the street that from Oxford hath bor-That tall Man, a Giant in bulk and in height,

Not an inch of his body is free from delight; Can he keep himself still, if he would? oh, not he!

The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.

There's a Cripple who leans on his Crutch;
like a Tower
That long has lean'd forward, leans hour
after hour!-

A Mother, whose Spirit in fetters is bound,
While she dandles the babe in her arms to
the sound.

Now, Coaches and Chariots, roar on like a
stream;
Here are twenty souls happy as Souls in a
dream:

They are deaf to your murmurs-they care
not for you,
Nor what ye are flying, or what ye pursue!

And the pale-visaged Baker's, with basket GLEN - ALMAIN, OR THE NARROW on back.

That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste

What matter! he's caught-and his time

runs to waste

The News-man is stopped, though he stops on the fret,

And the half-breathless Lamp-lighter he's in the net!

GLEN.

In this still place, remote from men
Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;
In this still place, where murmurs on
But one meek Streamlet, only one:
He sang of battles, and the breath
Of stormy war, and violent death;
And should, methinks, when all was past,
Have rightfully been laid at last
Where rocks were rudely heap'd, and rent

The Porter sits down on the weight which As by a spirit turbulent;

he bore;

The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store;

Where sights were rough, and sounds were
wild,
And every thing unreconciled;