God bless him!--Is he sleeping still?To the fresh draught I nought can add,Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.
Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.
Like precious stones or gold.Thy wreath adorns the fairest faceBut still thou'rt not the flower whose grace
There stood I fix'd, in mute despair;
To wait I scarce have powerThe garden's earliest flower,
Yet many a guest with wrath was fill'd
With its palm-jubilee, so sweet and glad,
Parting the vapor mist that round me plays!My bosom finds its youthful strength again,Feeling the magic breeze that marks your train.
1827.*-----"WHAT is science, rightly known?'Tis the strength of life alone.Life canst thou engender never,Life must be life's parent ever.
Softly breathes into your earAll its fertilising fullness,While the moon's refreshing coolness,
WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear?The father it is, with his infant so dear;He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.
1785.-----TO THE HUSBANDMAN.