THE KNIGHT'S TOMB. WHERE is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn? The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, Is gone, and the birch in its stead is grown.- And his good sword rust;— His soul is with the saints, I trust. 1802. METRICAL FEET. LESSON FOR A BOY. TROCHEE trips from lōng to shōrt; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spōndée stalks; strōng foot! yet ill able Evěr to come up with Dactyl trisÿllăblě. Ïāmbĭcs mārch from shōrt to lōng;— With ǎ leap and ǎ bōund, the swift Anăpăsts throng; One syllable long, with one short at each side, Amphibrǎchys hastes with ǎ stately stride;— First and last being long, middlě shōrt, Amphĭmacer Strikes his thūndering hoofs like ǎ proud high bred Racer. If Derwent be innocent, steady, and wise, And delight in the things of earth, water, and skies; Tender warmth at his heart, with these metres to show it, With sound sense in his brains, may make Derwent a poet,--- May crown him with fame, and must win him the love Of his father on earth and his Father above. My dear, dear child! Could you stand upon Skiddaw, you would not from its whole ridge See a man who so loves you as your fond S. T. Coleridge. 1807. A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, God grant me grace my prayers to say: In strength and health for many a year; Amen. 1808. COMPLAINT. How seldom, Friend! a good great man inherits REPROOF. FOR shame, dear Friend! renounce this canting strain! What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain? Place-titles-salary-a gilded chain Or throne of corses which his sword hath slain?Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends! Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man?-three treasures, love and light, And calm thoughts, regular as infant's breath ;And three firm friends, more sure than day and night— Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. 1809. PSYCHE. THE butterfly the ancient Grecians made And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed. 1808. AN ODE TO THE RAIN. COMPOSED BEFORE DAYLIGHT, ON THE MORNING APPOINTED FOR THE DEPARTURE OF A VERY WORTHY, BUT NOT VERY PLEASANT VISITOR, WHOM IT WAS FEARED THE RAIN MIGHT DETAIN. I KNOW it is dark; and though I have lain I have not once opened the lids of my eyes, |