The ripe corn waved in lone Dalgonar glen,
That, with its bosom basking in the sun,
Lies like a bird; the hum of working men
Joins with the sound of streams that southward run,
With fragrant holms atween: then mix in one
Beside a church, and round two ancient towers
Form a deep fosse. Here sire is heired by son,
And war comes never; ancle deep in flowers
In summer walk its dames among the sunny bowers.

He rose, find homeward by the slumbering stream
Walked with the morn-dew glistening on his shoon.
The sun was up, and his outbursting beam
Touched tower and tree and pasture hills aboon;
The stars were quenched, and vanished was the moon;
Loud lowed the herds and the glad partridge' cry
Made corn-fields musical as groves at noon;
Birds left the perch, bee following bee hummed by,
And gladness reigned on earth and brightness claimed the sky.

MINSTRELSY.

I sing of days in which brave deeds of arms
And deeds of song went hand in hand: our kings
Heroic feelings had and owned the charms
Of minstrel lore--they loved the magic strings
More than the sceptre; still their kingdom rings
With their gay musings and their harpings high.
To noble deeds fair poesie lends wings;