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When sinking low the Sufferer wan
A CHRISTMAS TALE, TOLD BY A SCHOOL-BOY TO HIS LITTLE
BROTHERS AND SISTERS.
UNDERNEATH an old oak tree
Where then did the Raven go ?
He went high and low,
Many Autumns, many Springs
At length he came back, and with him a She,
Raven's own oak. His
young ones were killed; for they could not depart, And their mother did die of a broken heart. The boughs from the trunk the Woodman did sever; And they floated it down on the course of the river. They sawed it in planks, and its bark they did strip, And with this tree and others they made a good ship. The ship, it was launched; but in sight of the land Such a storm there did rise as no ship could withstand. It bulged on a rock, and the waves rushed in fast: Round and round flew the Raven, and cawed to the
blast. He heard the last shriek of the perishing souls-See ! See! o'er the topmast the mad water rolls !
Right glad was the Raven, and off he went fleet, And Death riding home on a cloud he did meet, And he thank'd him again and again for this treat:
They had taken his all, and Revenge it was sweet!
TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY.
On the wide level of a mountain's head,
A sister and a brother !
That far outstripp'd the other;
For he, alas! is blind !
A FAREWELL ODE ON QUITTING SCHOOL FOR JESUS COLLEGE,
WHERE graced with many a classic spoil
Ah fair Delights ! that o'er my soul
EPITAPH ON AN INFANT.
Ere Sin could blight or Sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care ;
And bade it blossom there.
SONGS OF THE PIXIES.
The Pixies, in the superstition of Devonshire, are a race of beings invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man. At a small distance from a village in that county, half way up a wood-covered hill, is an excavation called the Pixies' Parlour. The roots of old trees form its ceiling; and on its sides are innumerable cyphers, among which the Author discovered his own and those of his brothers, cut by the hand of their childhood. At the foot of the hill flows the river Otter.
To this place the Author, during the summer months of the year 1793, conducted a party of young ladies; one of whom, of stature elegantly small, and of complexion colourless yet clear, was pro. claimed the Faery Queen. On which occasion the following Irregular Ode was written.
Whom the untaught Shepherds call
Pixies in their madrigal, Fancy's children, here we dwell :
Welcome, Ladies ! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note
Builds its nest and warbles well; Here the blackbird strains his throat;
Welcome, Ladies ! to our cell.
When fades the moon to shadowy-palo,