Puslapio vaizdai
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And let him, where and when he will, sit down
Beneath the trees, or by the grassy bank
Of high-way side, and with the little birds.
Share his chance-gathered meal; and, finally,
As in the eye of Nature he has lived,
So in the eye of Nature let him die.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE.

There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald

Shore,

Three rosy-cheeked School-boys, the highest not more
Than the height of a Counsellor's bag;

To the top of GREAT How did it please them to climb;
And there they built up, without mortar or lime,
A Man on the peak of the crag.

They built him of stones gathered up as they lay;
They built him and christened him all in one day,
An Urchin both vigorous and hale;

And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones.
Now Ralph is renowned for the length of his bones;
The Magog of Legberthwaite dale.

Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth,

And, in anger or merriment, out of the North
Coming on with a terrible pother,

From the peak of the crag blew the Giant away.

And what did these School-boys?—The very next day

They went and they built

up

another.

GREAT HOW is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirl-mere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside.

A POET'S EPITAPH.

Art thou a Statesman, in the van
Of public business trained and bred ?
-First learn to love one living man;
Then mayst thou think upon the dead.

A Lawyer art thou ?-draw not nigh;
Go, carry to some other place
The hardness of thy coward eye,

The falsehood of thy sallow face.

Art thou a Man of purple cheer?
A rosy Man, right plump to see?
Approach; yet, Doctor, not too near:
This grave no cushion is for thee.

Art thou a man of gallant pride,

A Soldier, and no man of chaff?
Welcome !-but lay thy sword aside,
And lean upon a Peasant's staff.

Physician art thou? One, all eyes,
Philosopher! a fingering slave,
One that would peep and botanize
Upon his mother's grave ?

Wrappt closely in thy sensual fleece
O turn aside, and take, I pray,
That he below may rest in peace,
Thy pin-point of a soul away!

-A Moralist perchance appears;

Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor
And He has neither eyes nor ears;
Himself his world, and his own God;

sod:

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