THE QUIET TIDE NEAR ARDROSSAN. IN to the beach the quiet waters crept : But, though I stood not far within the land, No tidal murmur reached me from the strand. The mirrored clouds beneath old Arran slept. I looked again across the watery waste : The shores were full, the tide was near its height, Though scarcely heard: the reefs were drowning fast, And an imperial whisper told the might Of the outer floods, that press'd into the bay, In the rough billows, and the foam-ball's flight : I love the shore upon a stormy day; But yet more stately were the power and ease That with a whisper deepen'd all the seas. LETTY'S GLOBE. HEN Letty had scarce passed her third glad year, And her young, artless words began to flow, One day we gave the child a coloured sphere Of the wide earth, that she might mark and know, She patted all the world; old empires peep'd Was welcome at all frontiers. How she leap'd, On our own isle, she raised a joyous cry, And, while she hid all England with a kiss, THE FOREST GLADE. S one dark morn I trod a forest glade, A sunbeam entered at the further end, And ran to meet me thro' the yielding shade— As one, who in the distance sees a friend, And, smiling, hurries to him; but mine eyes, For sad my thoughts had been—the tempest's wrath Had gloom'd the night, and made the morrow gray; Had turned my feet into that forest-way, Just when His morning light came down the path, Among the lonely woods at early day. THE GOSSAMER-LIGHT. UICK gleam! that ridest on the gossamer ! A gentle joust set on by summer air! How oft I watch thee from my garden-chair! In the fair garden or the breezy mead; The wind dismounts thee not; thy buoyant thread Is as the sonnet, poising one bright thought, IN AND OUT OF THE PINE-WOOD EYOND the pine-wood all look'd bright and clear And, ever by our side, as on we drove, As some fair thought, of heavenly light and force, Of dim expression, glittering in its course Through many loop-holes, till its face is seen; Some thoughts ne'er pass beyond their close confines ; Theirs is the little taper's homely lot, A woodside glimmer, distanced and forgot— Whose trivial gleam, that twinkles more than shines, Is left behind to die among the pines; Our stars are carried out, and vanish not! |