And instantly a dog is seen,

Glancing through that covert green.

The Dog is not of mountain breed;
Its motions, too, are wild and shy;

With something, as the Shepherd thinks
Unusual in its cry:

Nor is there any one in sigh

All round, in hollow or on height;

Nor shout nor whistle strikes his ear

What is the creature doing here?

It was a cove, a huge recess,

་

That keeps till June December's snow; A lofty precipice in front,

A silent tarn below!

Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,
Remote from public road or dwelling,
Pathway, or cultivated land,—

From trace of human foot or hand.

There sometimes doth a leaping fish
Send through the tarn a lonely cheer;
The crags repeat the raven's croak,
In symphony austere;

Thither the rainbow comes, the cloud,
And mists that spread the flying shroud;
And sunbeams; and the sounding blast,
That, if it could, would hurry past;
But that enormous barrier holds it fast.

Not free from boding thoughts, awhile

The Shepherd stood; then makes his way
O'er rocks and stones, following the Dog
As quickly as he may;

Nor far had gone before he found
A human skeleton on the ground.
The appalled Discoverer with a sigh
Looks round, to learn the history.

From those abrupt and perilous rocks
The Man had fallen, that place of fear!
At length upon the Shepherd's mind
It breaks, and all is clear:

He instantly recalled the name,

And who he was, and whence he came;
Remembered, too, the very day

On which the Traveller passed this way.

But hear a wonder, for whose sake

This lamentable tale I tell!

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 watched about the spot,
Or by his master's side:

How nourished here through such long time
He knows who gave that love sublime,
And gave that strength of feeling, great
Above all human estimate!

ODE TO DUTY.

STERN Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love,
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;

Thou, who art victory and law

When empty terrors overawe,

From vain temptations dost set free,

And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!

There are who ask not if thine eye

Be on them; who, in love and truth,
Where no misgiving is, rely

Upon the genial sense of youth:

Glad hearts! without reproach or blot;

Who do thy work, and know it not:

Oh! if through confidence misplaced

They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them

cast.

Serene will be our days and bright
And happy will our nature be,
When love is an unerring light,
And joy its own security.

And they a blissful course may hold
Even now, who, not unwisely bold,

Live in the spirit of this creed;

Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need.

I, loving freedom, and untried,

No sport of every random gust,
Yet being to myself a guide,

Too blindly have reposed my trust:
And oft, when in my heart was heard
Thy timely mandate, I deferred

The task, in smoother walks to stray;

But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.

Through no disturbance of my soul,

Or strong compunction in me wrought,
I supplicate for thy control;
But in the quietness of thought:
Me this unchartered freedom tires;
I feel the weight of chance-desires:
My hopes no more must change their name,
I long for a repose that ever is the same.

Stern Lawgvier! yet thou dost wear
The Godhead's most benignant grace;

dost preserve the stars from wrong;

he most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh

ad strong.

mbler functions, awful Power! chee: I myself commend

hy guidance from this hour; my weakness have an end! nto me, made lowly wise, -irit of self-sacrifice;

nfidence of reason give;

the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!

RACTER OF THE HAPPY WARRIOR.

is the happy Warrior? Who is he
every man in arms should wish to be?
s the generous Spirit, who, when brought
ng the tasks of real life, hath wrought
the plan that pleased his boyish thought:
e high endeavors are an inward light
makes the path before him a ways bright:
with a natural instinct to discern

knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;