That, soon as loosed, booms with full twang away,— The sudden rushing of the minnow shoal, Scared from the shallows by my passing tread. The treacherous surface, while the quick-eyed trout (Where safe and happily he might have lurked), Forgetful of his origin, and, worse, Unthinking of his end, flies to the stream; Mistakes the inverted image of the sky For heaven itself, and sinking meets his fate. Ε Now let me trace the stream up to its source Among the hills; its runnel by degrees Diminishing, the murmur turns a tinkle. Closer and closer still the banks approach, With brier, and hazel branch, and hawthorn spray, That fans my throbbing temples! smiles the plain Of toil, partake this day the common joy Of breathing in the silence of the woods, Yes, my heart flutters with a freer throb, To think that now the townsman wanders forth The coolness of the day's decline; to see Again I turn me to the hill, and trace The wizard stream, now scarce to be discerned; Woodless its banks, but green with ferny leaves, And thinly strewed with heath-bells up and down. Now, when the downward sun has left the glens, How deep the hush! the torrent's channel, dry, But hark, a plaintive sound floating along! Away, now rises full; it is the song Which He, who listens to the halleluiahs Of choiring Seraphim,-delights to hear; In kindly circle seated on the ground Fondles the lamb that nightly shares his couch. AN AUTUMN SABBATH WALK. WHEN homeward bands their several ways disperse, I love to linger in the narrow field Of rest; to wander round from tomb to tomb, Sad sighs the wind, that from those ancient elms Shakes showers of leaves upon the withered grass: The sere and yellow wreaths, with eddying sweep, |