Through all the woods the holly evergreen,
And laurel's softer leaf, and ivied thorn,
Lend winter shelter to the shivering wing.

No gravelled paths, pared from the smooth-shaved turf,
Wind through these woods; the simple unmade road,
Marked with the frequent hoof of sheep or kine,
Or rustic's studded shoe, I love to tread.

No threatening board forewarns the homeward hind,
Of man-traps, or of law's more dreaded gripe
Pleasant to see the labourer homeward hie
Light-hearted, as he thinks his hastening steps
Will soon be welcomed by his children's smile!
Pleasant to see the milkmaid's blythesome look,
As to the trysting thorn she gaily trips, "
With steps that scarcely feel the elastic ground!
Nor be the lowly dwellings of the poor
Thrust to a distance, as unseemly sights.
Curse on the heartless taste that, proud, exclaims,
"Erase the hamlet, sweep the cottage off;
Remove each stone, and only leave behind

The trees that once embowered the wretched huts.
What though the inmates old, who hoped to end
Their days below these trees, must seek a home,
Far from their native fields, far from the graves
In which their fathers lie,-to city lanes,
Darksome and close, exiled? It must be so;
The wide-extending lawn would else be marred,
By objects so incongruous." Barbarous taste!
Stupidity intense! Yon straw-roofed cot,
Seen through the elms, it is a lovely sight!
That scattered hamlet, with its burn-side
green,
On which the thrifty housewife spreads her yarn,
Or half-bleached web, while children busy play,
And paddle in the stream,-for every heart,
Untainted by pedantic rules, hath charms.

I love the neighbourhood of man and beast:
I would not place my stable out of sight.
No; close behind ny dwelling, it should form
A fence, on one side, to my garden plat.
What beauty equals shelter, in a clime

Where wintry blasts with summer breezes blend,
Chilling the day! How pleasant 't is to hear
December's winds, amid surrounding trees,
Raging aloud! how grateful 't is to wake,

While raves the midnight storm, and hear the sound
Of busy grinders at the well-filled rack;
Or flapping wing, and crow of chanticleer,
Long ere the lingering morn; or bouncing flails,
That tell the dawn is near! Pleasant the path

By sunny garden-wall, when all the fields
Are chill and comfortless; or barn-yard snug,
Where flocking birds, of various plume, and chirp
Discordant, cluster on the leaning stack,

From whence the thresher draws the rustling sheaves?

O, Nature all thy seasons please the eye

Of him who sees a Deity in all.

It is His presence that diffuses charms

Unspeakable, o'er mountain, wood, and stream.
To think that He, who hears the heavenly choirs,
Hearkens complacent to the woodland song;
To think that He, who rolls yon solar sphere,
Uplifts the warbling songster to the sky;
To mark His presence in the mighty bow,
That spans the clouds, as in the tints minute
Of humblest flower; to hear His awful voice
In thunder speak, and whisper in the gale;
To know, and feel His care for all that lives;
'Tis this that makes the barren waste appear
A fruitful field, each grove a paradise.
Yes! place me 'mid far stretching woodless wilds,
Where no sweet song is heard; the heath-bell there
Would soothe my weary sight, and tell of Thee!
There would my gratefully uplifted eye
Survey the heavenly vault, by day,—by night,
When glows the firmament from pole to pole;
There would my overflowing heart exclaim,
The heavens declare the glory of the Lord,
The firmament shews fortb bis bandy work!

Less loud, but not less clear, His humbler works
Proclaim His power; the SWALLOW knows her time;
And, on the vernal breezes, wings her way,
O'er mountain, plain, and far-extending seas,
From Afric's torrid sands to Britain's shore.
Before the cuckoo's note, she, twittering, gay,
Skims o'er the brook, or skiffs the greenwood tops;
When dance the midgy clouds in warping maze
Confused: 'tis thus, by her, the air is swept
Of insect myriads, that would else infest
The greenwood walk, blighting each rural joy
For this, if pity plead in vain-O, spare

Her clay-built home! Her all, her young, she trusts,
Trusts to the power of man: fearful, berself
She never trusts; free, the long summer morn,
She, at his window, hails the rising sun.-
Twice seven days she broods; then on the wing,
From morn to dewy eve, unceasing plies,
Save when she feeds or cherishes her young;

And oft she's seen, beneath her little porch,
Clinging supine, to deal the air-gleaned food.

From her the husbandman the coming shower
Foretells: Along the mead closely she skiffs,
Or o'er the streamlet pool she skims, so near,
That, from her dipping wing, the wavy circlets
Spread to the shore: then fall the single drops,
Prelusive of the shower.

The MARTINs, too,

The dwellers in the ruined castle wall,
When low'rs the sky a flight less lofty wheel.
Presageful of the thunder peal, when deep
A boding silence broods o'er all the vale,
From airy altitudes they stoop, and fly
Swiftly, with shrillest scream, round and around
The rugged battlements; or fleetly dart

Through loopholes, whence the shaft was wont to glance ;.

Or thrid the window of the lofty bower,

Where hapless royalty, with care-closed eyes,
Woo'd sleep in vain, foreboding what befel,-
The loss of fiiends, of country, freedom, life!

Long ere the wintry gusts, with chilly sweep,
Sigh through the leafless groves, the swallow tribes,
Heaven-warned, in airy bevies congregate,
Or clustering sit, as if in deep consult

What time to launch; but, lingering, they wait
Until the feeble of the latest broods

Have gathered strength, the sea-ward path to brave.
At last the farewell twitter spreading sounds;

Aloft they fly, and melt in distant air.

Far o'er the British sea, in westering course,
O'er the Biscayan mountain-waves they glide:
Then o'er Iberian plains, through fields of air,
Perfumed by orchard groves, where lowly bends
The orange bough beneath its juicy load,
Thence over Calpe's thunder-shielded rock
They stretch their course to Mauritania's plains.

There are who doubt this migratory flight.
But wherefore, from the distance of the way,
Should wonder verge on disbelief,-the bulk
So small, the buoyant wing so large and strong?

Behold the CORN-CRAIK; she, too, wings her way
To other lands: ne'er is she found immersed

In lakes, or buried torpid in the sand,

Though weak her wing contrasted with her bulk.
Seldom she rises from the

grassy field,

And

And never till compelled; and, when upraised,
With feet suspended, awkwardly she flies;
Her flight a ridge-breadth: suddenly she drops,
And, running, still eludes the following foot.

Poor bird, though harsh thy note, I love it well!
It tells of summer eves, mild and serene,
When through the grass, waist-deep, I wont to wade
In fruitless chace of thee; now here, now there,
Thy desultory call. Oft does thy call

The midnight silence break; oft, ere, the dawn,
It wakes the slumbering lark; he upward wings
His misty way, and, viewless, sings and soars.

A POETICAL TRIBUTE to the MEMORY OF LORD NELSON;
Inscribed, to the Honourable CHARLES GREY.

[By Mr. PERCIVAL STOCKDALE.]

NELike our wrenz

ELSON, with all the patriot's ardour fired,

Like our great Wolfe, in Victory's arms expired.

Triumphant Calpe, on the hostile shore,

Heard the last thunder of his cannon roar;

Firm as our hero, with a proud disdain,
It claimed our empire o'er the land, and main.
Oft had he suffered for his country's good;
His laurels oft took vigour from his blood;
Where'er our fleets unfurled their prosperous sails,
His glory flew with as propitious gales.

May thy illustrious deeds, in History's page,
With dignity be told, to every age;
May, to present thee to admiring eyes,

A Dionysius, or a Livy rise!

Shall feeble age endeavour to throw forth
Some strong ideas, to express thy worth?

Though long the British flag hath ruled the sea,
Its bravest heroes were excelled by thee;
The shades of Hawke, and of Boscawen shine
With fainter giories, when compared with thine.
This praise to a new height exalts thy name;
Thus, on the summit placed, of human fame.

DOMESTIC

DOMESTIC LITERATURE

Of the Year 1806.

CHAPTER I.

BIBLICAL AND THEOLOGICAL.

Comprising Biblical Criticism; Theological Criticism; Sacred Morals; Sermons; Single Sermons; Controversial Divinity.