Some tease the future tense, and plan A foolish wish! There's one at hoop; And one that curvets in and out, Reining his fellow cob about, Yet he would gladly halt and drop To wish to be a man! Perchance thou deem'st it were a thing And dost thou think that years acquire That manhood's mirth? —O, go thy ways And see how forced our fun! Thy taws are brave! — thy tops are rare! And 't is at best a sorry game Our hearts are dough, our heels are lead, Like balls with no rebound! And often with a faded eye Then be contented. Thou hast got There's sky-blue in thy cup! Thou 'lt find thy manhood all too fast, Thomas Hood. WHEN Clevedon. HALLAM'S GRAVE. HEN on my bed the moonlight falls, Thy marble bright in dark appears, The mystic glory swims away; From off my bed the moonlight dies; And then I know the mist is drawn A lucid veil from coast to coast, Alfred Tennyson. Clifton. CLIFTON. YLIFTON, in vain thy varied scenes invite, CLEE The mossy bank, dim glade, and dizzy height; · The sheep, that, starting from the tufted thyme, Untune the distant churches' mellow chime; As o'er each limb a gentle horror creeps, And shake above our heads the craggy steeps. Pleasant I've thought it to pursue the rower While light and darkness seize the changeful oar; The frolic Naiads drawing from below Walter Savage Landor. THE BRIDGE BETWEEN CLIFTON AND LEIGH WOODS. ROWN ever opposite, the angel cried, FROWN Who, with an earthquake's might and giant hand, Severed these riven rocks, and bade them stand Severed forever! The vast ocean-tide, Leaving its roar without at his command, Shrank, and beneath the woods through the green land William Lisle Bowles. 'T Clovelly. CLOVELLY. IS eve! 't is glimmering eve! how fair the scene, Touched by the soft hues of the dreamy west! Dim hills afar, and happy vales between, With the tall corn's deep furrow calmly blest: Beneath, the sea! by Eve's fond gale caressed, Mid groves of living green that fringe its side; Dark sails that gleam on ocean's heaving breast From the glad fisher-barks that homeward glide, To make Clovelly's shores at pleasant evening-tide. Hearken! the mingling sounds of earth and sea, Of some strong billow on the sounding shore: But turn where Art with votive hand hath twined |