'Twas vain the loud waves lash'd the shore Return or aid preventing ; The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. CXXIV T. Campbell THE SEA To sea! to sea! the calm is o'er, The dolphin wheels, the sea cows snort, To sea! to sea! our white winged bark The anchor heaves! The ship swings free! T. L. Beddoes CXXV FIDELITY A barking sound the shepherd hears, A cry as of a dog or fox; He halts, and searches with his eye And now at distance can discern The dog is not of mountain breed ; Nor is there any one in sight All round, in hollow or on height; It was a cove, a huge recess, That keeps, till June, December's snow A silent tarn below; Far in the bosom of Helvellyn, From trace of human foot or hand. There sometimes doth a leaping fish Thither the rainbow comes, the cloud- Not free from boding thoughts, awhile The shepherd stood; then makes his way O'er rocks and stones, following the dog Nor far had gone before he found From those abrupt and perilous rocks He instantly recalled the name, And who he was, and whence he came ; On which the traveller passed that way. But here a wonder for whose sake A lasting monument of words This wonder merits well. The dog, which still was hovering nigh, Repeating the same timid cry, This dog had been through three months' space A dweller in that savage place. Yes, proof was plain that since the day When this ill-fated traveller died, The dog had watch'd about the spot, Or by his master's side: How nourished there through that long tim W. Wordsworth CXXVI THE FOX AND THE CAT The fox and the cat, as they travell'd one day, "Tis great,' says the Fox, 'to make justice our guide!' 'How god-like is mercy!' Grimalkin replied. Whilst thus they proceeded, a wolf from the wood, Impatient of hunger, and thirsting for blood, Rush'd forth-as he saw the dull shepherd asleep And seiz'd for his supper an innocent sheep. In vain, wretched victim, for mercy you bleat, When mutton's at hand,' says the wolf, 'I must eat.' Grimalkin's astonish'd !—the fox stood aghast, To see the fell beast at his bloody repast. 'What a wretch,' says the cat, "'tis the vilest of brutes; Does he feed upon flesh when there's herbage and roots?' Cries the fox, 'While our oaks give us acorns so good, What a tyrant is this to spill innocent blood!' Well, onward they march'd, and they moraliz'd still, Till they came where some poultry pick'd chaff by a mill. Sly Reynard survey'd them with gluttonous eyes, And made, spite of morals, a pullet his prize. A mouse, too, that chanc'd from her covert to stray, The greedy Grimalkin secured as her prey. A spider that sat in her web on the wall, Perceiv'd the poor victims, and pitied their fall ; She cried, 'Of such murders, how guiltless am I !' So ran to regale on a new-taken fly. J. Cunningham CXXVII THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY The noon was shady, and soft airs My spaniel, prettiest of his race, (Two nymphs adorn'd with every grace Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads It was the time when Ouse display'd |