As the Moon brightens round her the clouds of the night It gleams on the face, there, of dusky-faced Jack, That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in hasteWhat matter! he's caught-and his time runs to wasteThe News-man is stopped, though he stops on the fret, And the half-breathless Lamp-lighter he's in the net! The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore; He stands, back'd by the Wall;—he abates not his din; His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in, From the Old and the Young, from the Poorest; and there! The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare. O blest are the Hearers and proud be the Hand If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smil That tall Man, a Giant in bulk and in height, Not an inch of his body is free from delight; Can he keep himself still, if he would? oh, not he! There's a Cripple who leans on his Crutch; like a Towe That long has lean'd forward, leans hour after hour !— A Mother, whose Spirit in fetters is bound, While she dandles the babe in her arms to the sound. Now, Coaches and Chariots, roar on like a stream ; TO THE DAISY.* With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Thou unassuming Common-place Which Love makes for thee! * The two following Poems were overflowings of the mind in composing the one which stands first in the first Volume. 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: And many a fond and idle name I give to thee, for praise or blame, 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 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 I see thee glittering from afar;- Not quite so fair as many are In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, May peace come never to his nest, |