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geance down

to crown.

The clouds sail by in homage, and the

Dim flashes the blue lightning ;-eddying night

by Welcomes her as a friend ;-the heavenly Leaps the swollen torrent; o'er the catatrain

ract raves Of satellites attend her in her flight With brutal force, and headlong flings its From pole to pole ; while a full-chorused billowy waves.

strain Of beaven's own music swells and dies again. The night breeze sails athwart the sky

the thunder Brightly she moves on in her loveliness ! Has waked him from his sleep-the spirit The fair-haired regent of the sky !-Her

hears smiles

The Demon's call, and rudely rends Soothe the stern horrors of the scene, and

asunder bless

The bonds of rest: upon the cloud he rears Nature's calm slumber; o'er yon splin

His deathless might, and wrathfully careers tered piles

Round the black rocks,-dashes in venOf beetling crays, how sweetly she beguiles

Their craggy summits,-damps the toil of Gloom of its frown; and, see! the glit

years tering rill

With one rude whirlwind-and, more Heaves conscious of her presence, and

ruthless grown, reviles,

Heaves up the ocean-waves his giant-strength With murmuring voice, yon proudly

frowning hill, That scorns meek Dian's gaze, and mocks And now he sinks in softness, and anon her gentle will.

Rolls on the ear with desolating peal;

Again the voice is silent.-- Is it gone, A sound rolls by of horror !-on the wind The darksome horrors of the night to seal ! Rides the dark-bogomed Demon of the Forth peeps

the moon;

her watery beams storm ;

reveal Whirlwinds with meteor-splendor, crowd The death that has been busy bere;-again behind,

The clouds sail round, as anxious to conAnd heaven peals out the trumpet of alarm.

ceal Hark! from yon murky cloud with light- The sight of desolation, but in vainning warm,

She walks in beauty forth, with all her A voice of death proceeds !-The Majesty

starry train. of Heaven displays around its harrowing

form Hark! God in all his power is riding by! Heard ye his chariot-wheels sweep echoing thro' the sky?

DARTMOOR.

CARRINGTON. He speaks ! scared nature trembles at the sound;

DARTMOOR rears Earth, air, sky, ocean, dictate a reply; In the dim distance his cloud-cover'd head, The mountain-rock tolls out the voice With granite-girdle sweeping nearly round profound,

The varied map, until he plants his foot And woodland echo multiplies the cry: Sublimely in the loud Atlantic wave. Clashed with the night-owl's scream, along the sky

But who that climbs the brow sublime, Rolls the live thunder; thro' the forest

and thence caves,

Surveys the dread immensity of sea,

.

Wild-heaving often here, and seldom lullid
To deep tranquillity, e'en by the hush
Of Summer, feels not pleasure, wonder, awe
Alternate, as in breeze, or gale, or storm,
He gazes on its bosom! On the waste
Of waters, rolling from the birth of Time,
The great and fathomless Ocean, swathing

round,
As with a girdle, this stupendous Earth,
The eye would dwell for ever! Every shore

The wave of ocean visits. On it roams
Through the bright burning zone where ar-

dent gales
Cool their scorch'd pinions in it. Indian

airs
From bowers of bliss, waft o'er its smiling

• face
Perfumes of Paradise, and round the poles,
Startling the eternal solitudes of snow,
The restless wanderer howls !

WINDS.

TO THE WINDS.

CLARE.

Hall, gentle Winds! I love your murmuring sound;

The willows charm me, wavering to and fro;
And oft I stretch me on the daisied ground,

To see you crimp the wrinkled flood below:
Delighted more as brisker gusts succeed

And give the landscape round a sweeter grace,
Sweeping in shaded waves the ripening mead,

Puffing their rifled fragrance in my face.
Painters of Nature! ye are doubly dear

Her children dearly love your whispering charms:
Ah, ye have murmur'd sweet to many an ear

That now lies dormant in Death's icy arms,
Aud at this moment many a weed ye wave,
That hides the bard in the forgotten grave.

BARTON.

Ye viewless Minstrels of the sky !
I marvel not in times gone by

That ye were deified :
For, even in this later day,
To me oft has your power, or play,

Unearthly thoughts supplied.

Graceful your play! when, round the

bower
Where Beauty culls Spring's loveliest flower,

To wreathe her dark locks there,
Your gentlest whispers lightly breathe
The leaves between, flit round that wreatha,

And stir her silken hair.

Awful your power! when by your might,
You heave the wild waves, crested white,

Like mountains in your wrath !
Ploughing between them valleys deep,
Which, to the seaman rous'd from sleep,

Yawn like Death's op’niny path!

Still, thoughts like these are but of earth,
And you can give far loftier birth :-

Ye come !-we know not whence !
Ye go!--can mortals trace your flight ?
All imperceptible to sight;

Though audible to sense.

The Sun,-his rise and set we know;
The Sea,-we mark its ebb and flow;

The Moon,-her wax and wane;
The Stars,--Man knows their courses well,
The Comet's vagrant paths can tell ;-

But you his search disdain.

What epithet can words supply Unto the Bard who takes such high

Unmanageable theme?

Ye restless, homeless, shapeless things ! Who mock all our imaginings,

Like Spirits in a dream;

But one :-to me, when Fancy stirs
My thoughts, ye seem Heav'n's Messengers,

Who leave no path untrod;
And when, as now, at midnight's hoor,
I hear your voice in all its power,

It seems the Voice of God.

CLOUDS.

THE CLOUDS.

S. C. HALL.

When the first day-beam bless’d the sky,
I marked the varied clouds on high,-
The clouds through which the sunlight broke,
As if it came from heaven, and woke
Their sleepy shadows into smiles,
And wooed them with a thousand wiles :
Those at a distance yet, were cold

And dull and naked, after night;
But on, toward the east they rollid

And clad them in a robe of light. Others, as if they loved to dwell

In darkness, moved but slowly on, And when on them its brightness fell,

But little of their gloom had gone : One, gloomier still, its course delays,

As though too heavy for the sky,

Then breaks and passes gaily by :While some had gathered round the rays That gave them hues and forms so fair,

As loth to leave that glorious place,

To lose their beauty and to trace
Their pathway through the murky air.
I marked when day was at its height,

Others of many a varied dye,
More fair of form, more purely bright

Than those that deck'd the morning sky,

And gaz'd, till over all on high The sun held uncontrolled sway And chased from heaven all gloom away, While the few clouds that o'er it past, No beam obscur'd, no shadow cast.

But when the day was almost done,

The clouds were beautiful indeed,

When from his daily duty freed, Still in bis glorions strength, the sun Shone forth upon the twilight skies, And graced them with his myriad dyes. I saw the clouds that onward drew From out the deep and distant blue, Become all beautiful and bright, As if to shew the coming night How great the radiance of the power, E'en of the sun's departing hour: They took all shapes, as Fancy wronght Her web, and mingled thought with thought: Some like familiar forms-the themes Of earthly loves that fall to dreams Some were of rainbow shape and hues; Some glisten'd like our earth with dews; Some were like forests seen afar; Some like the restless wandering star; While some appear'd like coral caves Half bidden by the ocean waves,

All cover'd with their snow-white spray; Others were there, which seem'd to be Fair islands in a dark blue sea, Which human eyes at eve behold; But only then-unseen by day

Their shores and mountains all of gold.

They vanish'd, as the night came un-
Those various hues and forms were gone :-
But in their stead, Reflection woke
To teach her lesson-thus she spoke :-

“ Those very clouds, so bright, so gay, Or in your threaten'd thunder's grave, So fair-are vapours which the earth

black vest, Flung, as diseased parts away,-

Like black, deep waters slowly moving by, Foul mists, which owe their second birth Awfully striking the spectator's breast To him who keeps his throne on high, With your Creator's dread sublimity, To bless the earth and gild the sky.

As admiration mutely views your storms; Yes! 'tis the sun whose influence brings And I do love to see you idly lie, A change to these degraded things

Painted by heav'n as various as your forms, That gives them lovely forms—and then Pausing upon the eastern mountain high,

Deprives thern of their baneful powers, As morn awakes with spring's wood-harAnd sends to mother Earth again

mony; In gentle dews and cheering showers, And sweeter still, when in your slumber's What was her burthen and her bane.

sooth

You hang the western arch o'er day's proud Man feels a change as great-when man

eye: Feels that immortal spark within

Still as the even-pool, uncurv'd and Whose inight no human tongue can tell,

smooth, Which shines to lighten and dispel

My gazing soul has look'd most placidly; The darkness and the weight of sin ;

And higher still devoutly wish'd to strain, When He, whu form'd Creation's whole, To wipe your shrouds and sky's blue blinders To school and guide the human soul,

by, Bids o'er the intellectual skies

With all the warmness of a moon-struck The Sun of Righteousness arise,

brain, And things of heaven and earth assume To catch a glimpse of Him who bids you Their proper shape of light or gloom.”

reign,

And view the dwelling of ALL MAJESTY.
Now let the contemplative mind
Fill up the blank I leave behind ;
And see through all Creation's plan
Some useful lesson taught to man;
Compare the changes wrought within,
And those without,--by nature wrought-

THE CLOUD.
Compare the man who lives in sin,
And him, by Jesus led and taught.

WILSON.
See how the Christian's shining light
Makes all that once was darkness, bright; A cLoup lay cradled near the setting sun,
And see how, like the clouds on high, A gleam of crimson tinged its braided
His every feeling, every thought,

snow, Adorn and bless the mental sky,

Long had I watch'd the glory moving on, And then his glories never die!

O'er the still radiance of the lake below; Tranquil its spirit seem'd, and flvated slow,

E'en in its very motion there was rest;

While ev'ry breath of eve that chauced to TO THE CLOUDS.

blow, CLARE.

Wafted the trav'ller to the beauteous west. O PAINTED CLOUDS! sweet beauties of the Emblein, methought, of the departed soul

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss sky, How have I viewed your motion and

is giv'n,

And by the breath of mercy made to roll your rest, When like fleet hunters ye have left mine

Right onward to the golden gates of heav'n, eye,

Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies, In your thiu gauze of woolly-Meecing drest: And tells to man bis glorious destinies.

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The evening was glorious, and light through the trees,
Play'd the sun-shine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze;
The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay
On the lap of the year, in the beauty of May.

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