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And find his way to me

Under the branches of the tree :

In and out, he darts about;

Can this be the Bird, to man so good,

That, after their bewildering,

Did cover with leaves the little children,

So painfully in the wood?

What ailed thee, Robin, that thou could'st pursue

A beautiful Creature,

That is gentle by nature?

Beneath the summer sky

From flower to flower let him fly;
"Tis all that he wishes to do.

The Cheerer Thou of our in-door sadness,
He is the Friend of our summer gladness:
What hinders, then, that ye should be
Playmates in the sunny weather,
And fly about in the air together!
His beautiful wings in crimson are drest,
A crimson as bright as thine own:
If thou would'st be happy in thy nest,
O pious Bird! whom Man loves best,
Love him, or leave him alone!

X.

TO THE DAISY*.

WITH little here to do or see

Of things that in the great world be,
Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee,
For thou art worthy,

Thou unassuming Common-place

Of Nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,

Which Love makes for thee!

Oft do I sit by thee at ease,

And weave a web of similies,

Loose types of Things through all degrees,

Thoughts of thy raising:

* The two following Poems were overflowings of the mind in composing the one which stands first in this Class.

And many a fond and idle name
I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,
While I am gazing.

A Nun demure, of lowly port;

Or sprightly Maiden, of Love's Court, In thy simplicity the sport

Of all temptations;

A Queen in crown of rubies drest

A Starveling in a scanty vest;

Are all, as seem to suit thee best,
Thy appellations.

A little Cyclops, with one eye

Staring to threaten and defy,

;

That thought comes next--and instantly

The freak is over,

The shape will vanish, and behold!
A silver Shield with boss of gold,

That spreads itself, some Faery bold

In fight to cover.

I see thee glittering from afar;-
And then thou art a pretty Star;

Not quite so fair as many are
In heaven above thee!

Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest ;-

May peace come never to his nest,
Who shall reprove thee!

Sweet Flower! for by that name at last, When all my reveries are past,

I call thee, and to that cleave fast,

Sweet silent Creature!

That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair

My heart with gladness, and a share

Of thy meek nature!

XL

TO THE SAME FLOWER.

BRIGHT flower, whose home is every where!

A Pilgrim bold in Nature's care,

And all the long year through the heir

Of joy or sorrow,

Methinks that there abides in thee

Some concord with humanity,

Given to no other Flower I see

The forest thorough!

Is it that Man is soon deprest?

A thoughtless Thing! who, once unblest,

Does little on his memory rest,

Or on his reason,

And Thou would'st teach him how to find

A shelter under every wind,

A hope for times that are unkind

And every season?

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