ILLUSTRATIONS
ENGRAVED BY EDMUND EVANS,
FROM DRAWINGS BY BIRKET FOSTER.
| MILL AT LISSOY ([Frontispiece]). | |
| PAGE | |
| GOLDSMITH’S TOMB IN THE TEMPLE CHURCHYARD | [xvii] |
| THE TRAVELLER. | |
| Or where Campania’s plain forsaken lies | [5] |
| Bless’d that abode, where want and pain repair | [6] |
| Even now, where Alpine solitudes ascend | [7] |
| Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale | [8] |
| The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone | [9] |
| Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave | [10] |
| While oft some temple’s mouldering tops between | [12] |
| In florid beauty groves and fields appear | [13] |
| A mistress or a saint in every grove | [14] |
| Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansions tread | [16] |
| With patient angle trolls the finny deep | [17] |
| How often have I led thy sportive choir | [18] |
| The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail | [21] |
| There gentle music melts on every spray | [24] |
| Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around | [27] |
| THE DESERTED VILLAGE. | |
| The never-failing brook, the busy mill | [32] |
| The shelter’d cot, the cultivated farm | [33] |
| And many a gambol frolick’d o’er the ground | [34] |
| The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest | [35] |
| Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew | [37] |
| The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung | [38] |
| And fill’d each pause the nightingale had made | [39] |
| To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn | [40] |
| The village preacher’s modest mansion rose | [41] |
| Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride | [42] |
| At church, with meek and unaffected grace | [43] |
| Low lies that house, where nut-brown draughts inspir’d | [45] |
| No more the farmer’s news, the barber’s tale | [45] |
| Space for his lake, his park’s extended bounds | [48] |
| Where the poor houseless, shivering female lies | [50] |
| Her modest looks the cottage might adorn | [51] |
| Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey | [52] |
| The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green | [53] |
| And left a lover’s for a father’s arms | [54] |
| Downward they move, a melancholy band | [56] |
| THE HERMIT. | |
| Then turn, to-night, and freely share whate’er my cell bestows | [58] |
| The hermit trimm’d his little fire, and cheer’d his pensive guest | [61] |
| And when, beside me in the dale; he caroll’d lays of love | [64] |
| THE CAPTIVITY. | |
| Ye hills of Lebanon, with cedars crown’d | [69] |
| Fierce is the tempest rolling along the furrow’d main | [74] |
| As panting flies the hunted hind, where brooks refreshing stray | [80] |
| O Babylon! how art thou fall’n | [83] |
| THE HAUNCH OF VENISON | [90] |
| THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION | [102] |
| AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG | [109] |
| THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS | [116] |
| ON A BEAUTIFUL YOUTH STRUCK BLIND BY LIGHTNING | [125] |
| SONG—“THE THREE PIGEONS” | [130] |
| BIRDS | [142] |
| EPILOGUE WRITTEN FOR MR. CHARLES LEE LEWES | [162] |
The Ornamental Illustrations designed by H. Noel Humphreys
