Part 36

Two Gentlemen of Verona.

50. When the sun More darkly tinges Spring's fair brow, And laughing fields have just begun The Summer's golden hues to show; Earth still with flowers is richly dight, And the last rose in gardens bides to glow.

GEORGE BANCROFT.

51. The pryde, the manhode of the yeare, When eke the ground is dight in its most deft aumere.

ROWLEY--(Chatterton.)

Ornamental.

Mantle.

52. An Autumn night With a piercing sight, And a step both strong and free; And a voice for wonder, Like the wrath of the thunder, When he shouts to the stormy sea!

BARRY CORNWALL.

53. When Spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie.

MRS. HEMANS.

54. When The breath of Winter comes from far away, And the rich west continually bereaves Of some gold tinge, and plays a roundelay Of death among the bushes and the leaves.

KEATS.

55. When Spring pours out his showers, as is his wont, And bathes the breathing tresses of meek eve.

COLLINS.

56. Autumn skies, when all the woods are hung With many tints, the fading livery Of life, in which it mourns the coming storms Of winter; when the quiet winds awake Faint dirges in the wither'd leaves, and breathe Their sorrow through the grove.

PERCIVAL.

57. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie.

OLD HERBERT.

58. When a soft haze is hanging o'er the hill, Tinged with a purple light. How beautiful, And yet how cold! 'Tis the first robe put on By sad October.

W. G. SIMMS.

59. Spring doeth all she can, I trow; She brings the bright hours, She weaves the sweet flowers, She dresseth her bowers For all below.

BARRY CORNWALL.

60. Spring time, Which crumbles Winter's gyves with tender might, When in the genial breeze, (the breath of God,) Come spouting up the unseal'd springs to light, Flowers start from their dark prisons at our feet, And woods, long dumb, awake to hymnings sweet.

BRYANT.

WHAT HOUR DO YOU LOVE?

Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine, Deep felt, in these appear! A simple train Yet so delightful, mix'd with such kind art, Such beauty and beneficence combined, Shade unperceived so softening into shade, And all so forming an harmonious whole, That as they still succeed, they ravish still.

THOMSON.