MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS.

PART SECOND.

11

I.

While not a leaf seems faded, — while the fields,
With ripening harvest prodigally fair,
In brightest sunshine bask, - this nipping air,
Sent from some distant clime where Winter wields
His icy scymetar, a foretaste yields
Of bitter change — and bids the Flowers beware;
And whispers to the silent Birds, “ Prepare
Against the threatening Foe your trustiest shields."
For me, who under kindlier laws belong
To Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry
Through the green leaves, and yon crystalline sky,
Announce a season potent to renew,
Mid frost and snow,

the instinctive joys of song, – And nobler cares than listless summer knew.

II.

THIS, AND THE TWO FOLLOWING, WERE SUGGESTED BY MR. W. WESTALL'S VIEWS OF THE CAVES, &c. IN YORKSHIRE.

Pure element of waters ! wheresoe'er
Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts,
Green herbs, bright fowers, and berry-bearing

Rise into life and in thy train appear : [plants,
And, through the sunny portion of the year,
Swift insects shine, thy hovering pursuivants :
And, if thy bounty fail, the forest pants ;
And hart and hind and hunter with his spear,
Languish and droop together. Nor unfelt
In man's perturbed soul thy sway benign ;
And, haply, far within the marble belt
Of central earth, where tortured Spirits pine
For grace and goodness lost, thy murmurs melt
Their anguish, - and they blend sweet songs with