A LEGENDARY TALE OF CHIVALRY: FORGET ME NOT. TOGETHER they sate by a river's side, And they watch'd the deep and eddying tide, And, oh! for that flow'r of brilliant hue, Said then the lady fair; "To hang my neck with the blossoms blue, And braid my nut-brown hair." The knight has plunged in the whirling wave, All for the lady's smile: And he swims the stream with courage brave, And his fingers have cropt the blossoms blue, But the way is long, and the current strong, And, alas-for that gallant knight! For the waves prevail, and his stout arms fail, Though cheer'd by his lady's sight. Then the blossoms blue to the bank he threw, Ere he sank in the eddying tide; And "Lady, I'm gone, thine own knight true, Forget me not," he cried. The farewell pledge the lady caught, And hence, as legends say, The flow'r is a sign to awaken thought, Of friends who are far away. For the lady fair of her knight so true, And she cherish'd the flow'r of brilliant hue, BISHOP MANT. ON THE ANTIPATHIES OF PLANTS. THE prudent will observe what passions reign The colewort's rankness, but with amorous twine Hazel, and weight-resisting palm, and likes Or walnut, whose malignant touch impairs PHILLIPS. A BARKING Sound the shepherd hears, He halts, and searches with his eyes And now at distance can discern The dog is not of mountain breed ; Nor is there any one in sight All round, in hollow, or on height; Nor shout, nor whistle, strikes the ear; It was a cove, a huge recess, That keeps till June December's snow; A lofty precipice in front, A silent tarn below! Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, From trace of human foot or hand. There, sometimes doth the leaping fish Thither the rainbow comes,-the cloud,- The shepherd stood: then makes his way Nor far had gone before he found The man had fall'n, that place of fear! On which the traveller pass'd this way. But hear a wonder, for whose sake The Dog, which still was hovering nigh, This Dog had been, through three months' space, Yes, proof was plain, that since that day, When this ill-fated traveller died, Or by his master's side: How nourish'd here through such long time, WORDSWORTH. Mr. Charles Gough, the unfortunate subject of this poem, was a resident of Manchester, who made frequent visits to the Lakes. Confiding in his knowledge of the country, he ventured to cross one of the passes of Helvellyn, late in a summer afternoon, attended only by his faithful dog. Darkness, it is supposed, came on before his expectation-he wandered from the track, and fell into one of those deep recesses where human foot rarely treads The dog was found by the side of his master after a search of many weeks. This fatal accident happened in 1811. The great northern Bard has likewise paid a pleasing tribute to the memory of this pilgrim of Nature, in the following pathetic stanzas. ON THE DEATH OF MR. CHARLES GOUGH. I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending, |