d her love,"--to hear her voice, with all its power, its
sweetness, its gush of sound, so sustained and assisted by modulations
that rivalled its intensity of expression; to hear at once such poetry,
such music, such execution, is a pleasure never to be forgotten, or
mixed with meaner things. I seem to hear it still.

As in the bursting spring time o'er the eye
Of one who haunts the fields fair visions creep
Beneath the closed lids (afore dull sleep
Dims the quick fancy) of sweet flowers that lie
On grassy banks, oxlip of orient dye,
And palest primrose and blue violet,
All in their fresh and dewy beauty set,
Pictured within the sense, and will not fly:
So in mine ear resounds and lives again
One mingled melody,--a voice, a pair
Of instruments most voice-like! Of the air
Rather than of the earth seems that high strain,
A spirit's song, and worthy of the train
That soothed old Prospero with music rare.

*The dital harp.

HANNAH BINT.

The Shaw, leading to Hannah Bint's habitation, is, as I perhaps have
said before, a very pretty mixture of wood and coppice; that is to say,
a tract of thirty or forty acres covered with fine growing timber--ash,
and oak, and elm, very regularly planted; and interspersed here and
there with large patches of underwood, hazel, maple, birch, holly, and
hawthorn, woven into almost impenetrable thickets by long wreaths of the
bramble, the briony, and the brier-rose, or by the pliant and twisting
garlands of the wild honeysuckle. In other parts, the Shaw is quite
clear of its bosky undergrowth, and clothed only with large beds of
feathery fern, or carpets of flowers, primroses, orchises, cowslips,
ground-ivy, crane's-bill, cotton-grass, Solomon's seal, and
forget-me-not, crowded together with a profusion and brilliancy of
colour, such as I have rarely seen equalled even in a garden. Here
the wild hyacinth really enamels the ground with its fresh and lovely
purple; there,

'On aged roots, with bright green mosses clad,
Dwells the wood-sorrel, with its bright thin leaves
Heart-shaped and triply folded, and its root
Creeping like beaded coral; whilst around
Flourish the copse's pride, anemones,
With rays like golden studs on ivory laid
Most delicate; but touch'd with purple clouds,
Fit crown for April's fair but changeful brow.'

The variety is much greater than I have enumerated;