THE POPLAR FIELD.

THE poplars are fell'd: farewell to the shade, And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade! The winds play no longer, and sing in the leaves, Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives.

Twelve years have elaps'd since I first took a view
Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew;
And now on the grass behold they are laid,
And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade!

The blackbird has fled to another retreat,

Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat; And the scene where his melody charm'd me before Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more.

STRATUM populeum nemus est; cara umbra, valeto!

Frigus, et aurarum grate susurre, vale!

Non jam inter frondes leni flant murmure venti,
Non harum in vitreo flumine imago micat.

Bis sex præteriêre anni, ex quo tempore vidi
Dilectum, ornabat quem nemus illud, agrum;

Quod nunc, ecce! jacet subversum in gramine: et arbor

Nunc mihi dat sedem, quæ modò tegmen erat.

Jamque alias merulæ latebras petiêre, diei
Unde procul coryli fervida tela fugant.

Nec loca quæ grato quondam modulamine sensus
Mulcêrunt, resonant jam mihi suave melos.

My fugitive years are all hasting away,

And I must ere long lie as lowly as they,

With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my head,

Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead.

'Tis a sight to engage me, if anything can,
To muse on the perishing pleasures of man;
Though his life be a dream, his enjoyments I see
Have a being less durable even than he.

COWPER.

Et mea vita fugax celeri pede labitur, et mox
Obrutus, hi quales sunt, ego truncus ero.
Adstabitque priùs capiti lapis, ossaque condar
Cespite, quàm veteri par nova sylva subit.

Has dum mente vices reputo, mortalibus ætas Quàm brevis est moneor, quàm breve quicquid

amant.

Vita hominis velut umbra fugit, sed gaudia vitæ

Hei mihi prætereunt jam citiore fugâ.

THE ROSE.

THE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower, Which Mary to Anna convey'd;

The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower,

And weigh'd down its beautiful head.

The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet; And it seem'd, to a fanciful view,

To

weep

for the buds it had left with regret

On the flourishing bush where it grew.

I hastily seized it, unfit as it was

For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas!

I snapp'd it; it fell to the ground.