SONNET VI. ΤΟ A GOOSE. If thou didst feed on western plains of yore, Or love-sick poet's sonnet, sad and sweet, Departed Goose! I neither know nor care. But this I know, that thou wert very fine, Season'd with sage, and onions, and port wine. SONNET VII. Lie lightly on her bosom, gentle earth! For poor Amelia's bosom was the seat Of maiden purity, and once it beat With nature's best affections; but her worth No friend, no dear congenial soul had she, Her cold, coarse comrades drove the wretched maid To lonely thought. The feelings that had blest A fellow heart, imprison'd in her breast, Were tortures there, and on her life they prey'd. She pin'd away and died, and is at rest. Lie lightly on her bosom, gentle earth! SONNET VIII. Thou lingerest, Spring! still wintry is the scene, The elder yet its circling tufts put forth. Late let the fields and gardens blossom out! Like man when most with smiles thy face is drest, 'Tis to deceive, and he who knows ye best, When most ye promise, ever most must doubt. R. SONNET IX. Wake the loud harp to rapture! on the gale Of memory; often in the primros'd vale, Where Cherwell winds her willowy meads among, Echoed to Sorrow's solitary tale; Now let it speak of Joy! for now no more It hymns responsive to the hand of woe, The dirge of Hope departed; sad and slow (Written in a Boat, on Loch Lomond, on seeing one dart into a Capse, on one side of the Islands of the Lake.) Whither lone wanderer-whither art thou flown? So wild, so very secret, so unknown, The CALLOUS MIND its power may also own; |