Yet slight thy form, and low thy seat, Oft, in the sunless April day, Thy early smile has stayed my walk; But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, I passed thee on thy humble stalk. So they, who climb to wealth, forget That I should ape the ways of pride. And when again the genial hour I'll not o'erlook the modest flower That made the woods of April bright. INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD STRANGER, if thou hast learned a truth which needs. No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky That sucks its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed SONG. Soon as the glazed and gleaming snow Reflects the day-dawn cold and clear, The hunter of the west must go In depth of woods to seek the deer. His rifle on his shoulder placed, His stores of death arranged with skill, His moccasins and snow-shoes laced,Why lingers he beside the hill? Far, in the dim and doubtful light, And oft he turns his truant eye, And pauses oft, and lingers near; But when he marks the reddening sky, He bounds away to hunt the deer. TO A WATERFOWL. WHITHER, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,— Lone wandering, but not lost. |