Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant To B. R. Haydon, on seeing his Picture of Napoleon Buo- naparte on the Island of St. Helena А РОЕТ/-Нe hath put his heart to school Wansfell! this Household has a favoured Lot While beams of orient light shoot wide and high In my mind's eye a Temple like a cloud POEMS OF THE FANCY. I. A MORNING EXERCISE. [WRITTEN at Rydal Mount. I could wish the last five stanzas of this to be read with the poem addressed to the skylark.] FANCY, who leads the pastimes of the glad, Blithe ravens croak of death; and when the owl Through border wilds where naked Indians stray, Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill; A feathered task-master cries, “WORK AWAY!" And, in thy iteration, “WHIP POOR WILL *!" Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave, Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave. VOL. II. * See Waterton's Wanderings in South America. B What wonder? at her bidding, ancient lays The daisy sleeps upon the dewy lawn, Hail, blest above all kinds!-Supremely skilled Restless with fixed to balance, high with low, Thou leav'st the halcyon free her hopes to build On such forbearance as the deep may show; Perpetual flight, unchecked by earthly ties, Leav'st to the wandering bird of paradise. Faithful, though swift as lightning, the meek dove; Yet more hath Nature reconciled in thee; So constant with thy downward eye of love, Yet, in aërial singleness, so free; So humble, yet so ready to rejoice In power of wing and never-wearied voice. To the last point of vision, and beyond, Mount, daring warbler! - that love-prompted strain, ('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond) Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain : Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing All independent of the leafy spring. How would it please old Ocean to partake, With sailors longing for a breeze in vain, The harmony thy notes most gladly make Where earth resembles most his own domain! Urania's self might welcome with pleased ear These matins mounting towards her native sphere. Chanter by heaven attracted, whom no bars To day-light known deter from that pursuit, 'Tis well that some sage instinct, when the stars Come forth at evening, keeps Thee still and mute; For not an eyelid could to sleep incline Wert thou among them, singing as they shine! 1828. II. A FLOWER GARDEN, AT COLEORTON HALL, LEICESTERSHIRE. [PLANNED by my friend, Lady Beaumont, in connexion with the garden at Coleorton.] TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, There close the peaceful lives of flowers ? Say, when the moving creatures saw The half-blown rose, the lily spare? Or peeped they often from their beds All summer-long the happy Eve Yet, where the guardian fence is wound, And, though the jealous turf refuse And hither throngs of birds resort; |