How busy the enormous hive within,

While Echo dallies with the various din!

Some (hardly heard their chissel's clinking sound) Toil, small as pigmies, in the gulph profound; Some, dim between the aëreal cliffs descried, O'erwalk the slender plank from side to side; These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring, Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing.

Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears An edge all flame, the broad'ning sun appears; A long blue bar it's ægis orb divides,

And breaks the spreading of it's golden tides;
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings his shadow on the pictur'd deep.
'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire,
With towr's and woods a "prospect all on fire;"

The coves and secret hollows, thro' a ray
Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray;
The gilded turf invests in richer green

Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between;
Deep yellow beams the scatter'd boles illume,
Far in the level forest's central gloom;

Waving his hat, the shepherd, in the vale,
Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,
That, barking busy, 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks.
Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots
On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots;
The Druid stones their lighted fane unfold,
And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold;
*Sunk to a curve, the day-star lessens still,
Gives one bright glance, and sinks behind the hill.

In these secluded vales, if village fame, Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim; When up the hills, as now, retired the light, Strange apparitions mocked the gazer's sight.

A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; Unhurt pursues his lengthened flight, while all Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall. Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show Of horsemen shadows winding to and fro;

*From Thomson.

See Scott's Critical Essays.

At intervals imperial banners stream,

And now the van reflects the solar beam,
The rear thro' iron brown betrays a sullen gleam;
*Lost gradual, o'er the heights in pomp they go,
While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
Till, save the lonely beacon, all his fled,
That tips with eve's last gleam his spiry head.

Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail, On red slow-waving pinions, down the vale; And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines, Its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines, How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray Where winds the road along a secret bay; By rills that tumble down the woody steeps, And run in transport to the dimpling deeps; Along the "wild meand'ring shore" to view Obsequious Grace the winding Swan pursue: He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings His bridling neck between his towering wings; In all the majesty of ease, divides

And, glorying, looks around, the silent tides;

* See a description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's Survey of the Lakes, accompanied by vouchers of its veracity, that may amuse the reader.

On as he floats, the silver'd waters glow,

Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of

snow.

While tender Cares and mild domestic Loves,
With furtive watch pursue her as she moves;
The Female with a meeker charm succeeds,
And her brown little-ones around her leads,
Nibbling the water lilies as they pass,
Or playing wanton with the floating grass.
She, in a mother's care, her beauty's pride
Forgets, unwearied watching every side;
She calls them near, and with affection sweet
Alternately relieves their weary feet;
Alternately they mount her back, and rest
Close by her mantling wings' embraces prest.

Long may ye roam these hermit waves that sleep, In birch-besprinkled cliffs embosomed deep; These fairy holms untrodden, still, and green, Whose shades protect the hidden wave serene; Whence fragrance scents the water's desart gale, The violet, and the lily of the vale;

Yon Isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet, Yet hears her song, "by distance made more sweet,"

Yon isle conceals your home, your cottage bower,
Fresh water rushes strew the verdant floor;
Long grass and willows form the woven wall,
And swings above the roof the poplar tall.
Thence issuing often with unwieldly stalk,
With broad black feet ye crush your flow'ry walk;
Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn
The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn;
Involve your serpent necks in changeful rings,
Rolled wantonly between your slippery wings,
Or, starting up with noise and rude delight,
Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight.

Fair Swan! by all a mother's joys caressed, Haply some wretch has eyed, and called thee bless'd; The whilst upon some sultry summer's day She dragged her babes along this weary way; Or taught their limbs along the burning road A few short steps to totter with their load.

I see her now, denyed to lay her head, On cold blue nights, in hut or straw-built shed, Turn to a silent smile their sleepy cry,

By pointing to a shooting star on high: