Dear Child of Nature, let them rail!

The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the poet's dream.

Thou, while thy babes around thee cling, Shalt show us how divine a thing A Woman may be made.

Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose types of things through all degrees.

Now grows together that belongs together.

But fair the exil'd Palm-tree grew Midst foliage of no kindred hue; Through the laburnum's dropping gold Rose the light shaft of Orient mould, And Europe's vio…

What do we plant when we plant a tree? A thousand things that we daily see, We plant the spire that out-towers the crag, We plant the staff for our country's f…