Part 33

LONGFELLOW.

8. Autumn eventide; When sinking on the blue hill's breast, the sun Spreads the large bounty of his level blaze, Lengthening the shade of mountains and tall trees.

GEORGE LUNT.

9. When on a keen December night, Jack Frost Drives through mid air his chariot icy-wheel'd, And from the sky's crisp ceiling, star-emboss'd, Whiffs off the clouds that the pure blue concealed.

TENNENT--Anster Fair.

10. When Spring, advancing, calls her feather'd quire, And tunes to softer notes her laughing lyre; Musk'd in the rose's lap fresh dews are shed, And breathe celestial lustres round her head.

DARWIN.

11. June with its roses,----June! The gladdest month of the capricious year, With its thick foliage, and its sunlight clear, And with a drowsy tune Of the bright leaping waters, as they pass Laughingly on, amid the springing grass!

W. H. BURLEIGH.

12. When Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside, a-weary.

LONGFELLOW.

13. Winter, shod with fleecy snow, Who cometh white, and cold, and mute, Lest he should wake the Spring below.

BARRY CORNWALL.

14. When the south wind in May days, With a net of shining haze, Silvers the horizon wall; And with softness touching all, Tints the human countenance With a color of romance, And infusing gentle heats, Turns the sod to violets.

R. W. EMERSON.

15. When Spring's unfolded blooms Exhale in sweetness, that the skilful bee May taste, at will, from their selected spoils, To work her dulcet sweet.

AKENSIDE--Pleasures of the Imagination.

16. The joyous Winter days, When sits the soul intense, collected, cool, Bright as the skies, and as the season keen.

THOMSON.

17. The Spring, as she passes along With her eye of light, and her lip of song.

W. G. CLARK.

18. October! Heaven's delicious breath, When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek sun grows brief, And the year smiles, as drawing near its death.

W. C. BRYANT.

19. The April rain! the April rain! To list the pleasant sound, Now soft and still like gentle dew, Now drenching all the ground. Pray tell me why an April shower Is pleasanter to see, Than falling drops of other rain? I'm sure it is to thee.

MRS. SEBA SMITH.

20. Spring, when from yon blue-topp'd mountain She leaves her green print 'neath each spreading tree, Her tuneful voice beside the swelling fountain Giving sweet notes to its wild melody.

JULIA H. SCOTT.

21. A season atween June and May, Half prankt with Spring, with summer half embrown'd.