The Summer Evening Walk. The blackbird warbles on the bough, Pleas'd with my little flock of sheep, 69 WILLIAMS. THE SUMMER EVENING WALK. WHEN day declining sheds a milder gleam, What time the may-fly haunts the pool or stream; 70 The Summer Evening Walk. When the still owl skims round the grassy mead, What time the tim❜rous hare limps forth to feed; To mark the swift, in rapid giddy ring, While deep'ning shades obscure the face of day, To yonder bench, leaf-shelter'd, let us stray. Till blended objects fail the swimming sight, And all the fading landscape sinks in night; To hear the drowsy dorr come brushing by, With buzzing wing, or the shrill cricket cry; Recovery from Sickness. 71 To see the feeding bat glance thro' the wood; To catch the distant falling of the flood; While o'er the cliffth' awaken'd churn owl hung Thro' the still gloom protracts his chatt'ring song; While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings, Unseen, the soft enamour'd woodlark sings: Each rural sight, each sound, each smell, combine, The tinkling sheep-bell, or the breath of kine; The new-mown hay that scents the swelling breeze, Or cottage chimney smoking thro' the trees. WHITE. RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS. SEE the wretch, that long has tost At length repair his vigour lost, The meanest flow'ret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, 72 The Whirlwind.-To Leven Water. THE WHIRLWIND. WHEN forth from gloomy clouds a whirlwind springs, That bears the thunder on its dreadful wings, Wide o'er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps, Then, gather'd, settles on the hoary deeps; Th' afflicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar; The waves behind impel the waves before, Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore. DRYDEN. TO LEVEN WATER. PURE stream! in whose transparent wave With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread; Hay-making. The ruthless pike, intent on war; May num'rous herds and flocks be seen, 73 SMOLLET. HAY-MAKING. WHEN the fresh spring in all her state is crown'd, H |