160 SPRING IN TOWN. No swimming Juno gait, of languor born, Is theirs, but a light step of freest grace, Light as Camilla's o'er the unbent corn, A step that speaks the spirit of the place, Since Quiet, meek old dame, was driven away To Sing Sing and the shores of Tappan bay. Ye that dash by in chariots! who will care For steeds or footmen now? ye cannot show Fair face, and dazzling dress, and graceful air, And last edition of the shape! Ah no, These sights are for the earth and open sky, And your loud wheels unheeded rattle by. SUMMER WIND Ir is a sultry day; the sun has drank That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Settling on the sick flowers, and then again With a reflected radiance, and make turn Languidly in the shade, where the thick turf, Retains some freshness, and I woo the wind 162 SUMMER WIND. That still delays its coming. Why so slow, Oh, come and breathe upon the fainting earth Shaking a shower of blossoms from the shrubs, AUTUMN WOODS. ERE, in the northern gale, The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The mountains that infold, In their wide sweep, the coloured landscape round. Seem groups of giant kings, in purple and gold, That guard the enchanted ground. I roam the woods that crown The upland, where the mingled splendours glow, My steps are not alone In these bright walks; the sweet southwest, at play, Flies, rustling, where the painted leaves are strown Along the winding way. And far in heaven, the while, The sun, that sends that gale to wander here, Pours out on the fair earth his quiet smile, 164 AUTUMN WOODS. Where now. the solemn shade, Verdure and gloom where many branches meet; Let in through all the trees Come the strange rays; the forest depths are bright; Their sunny-coloured foliage, in the breeze, Twinkles, like beams of light. The rivulet, late unseen, Where bickering through the shrubs its waters run, Shines with the image of its golden screen, And glimmerings of the sun. But 'neath yon crimson tree, Her blush of maiden shame. Oh, Autumn! why so soon Ah! 'twere a lot too blessed For ever in thy coloured shades to stray; To rove and dream for aye;' |