compare in grandeur and beauty with the country round
Berriedale, viewed from this eminence. Hills of richest green,
diversified with purple heather; a back-ground of wild bog and
mountain; blue sea; and great banks of cloud shepherded over the
heights by the mighty winds.

XXII.

THE MINERS.

The afternoon is cool and calm,
Near by flashes the mighty sea,
Inland rise green, dewy hills,
Crowned with eye-bewitching trees.

Suddenly the eye is amazed and terrified,
A hideous procession sordid and grimy
Of men and boys, slaves of the coal-pit,
Is seen on the road, shaming the daylight.

All the day long they work in the darkness,
Far from the songs of the birds and the sunshine,
Now they return to their sordid villages,
Ill-smelling rows of comfortless cottages.

The rich and dainty ladies of fashion
Stand aloof from these swart coal-hewers,
Are ready to swoon as the air is poisoned
With odours of subterranean foulness.

Coarse of look, and of speech far coarser!
Laughter loud with no merriment in it!
No more soul than the beasts that perish!
These are the men despised for their toiling.

XXIII.

IN A COUNTRY GRAVEYARD.[38]

Man dreads the tomb, but dreads oblivion more;
He fears, when death has loosed the load of years,
His name shall cease to sound in mortal ears,
And, in the dusty darkness, all be o'er.
Some o'er the scrolls of ample science pore,
Tome after tome the nimble authors write,
And gain a meed of glory: soon the night
Comes: the author with his laurel disappears,
The painting fades, the marble busts decay,
The kingly structures fall in ruin down,
Devouring Time consumes the artist's prize,
The centuries like lightning pass away,
Or hurrying billows: emperor and clown
Sink with the myriads in impartial clay.

[38] Suggested by a French poem of Monsieur Desessarts, entitled
_Se Survivre_.

XXIV.

NO PLACE LIKE HOME.

Where'er these wandering footsteps lead me to,
Peak-dominated glen, hill where the sheep
Graze in the sun, mountains that ever keep
A solemn guard o'er lakes profound and blue,
Or undulating tracts of treeless view;
No matter if the rain and whirlwind sweep
The landscape, or the gladdening sunshine peep
Through muffled vapours that the winds undo;
Let it be night spec