475 While o'er his head, before the summer sun Lights up the blue expanse, heard more than seen, The lark sings matins; and above the clouds Floating, embathes his spotted breast in dew.
species, which he terms Ophrys insecti fera. See English Botany [Smith's note].
1. Blue bells. Campanula rotundifolia. Mountain thyme. Thymus serpyllum. "It is a common notion, that the flesh of sheep which feeds upon aromatic plants, particularly wild thyme, is superior in flavour to other mutton. The truth is, that sheep do not crop these aromatic plants, unless now and then by accident, or when they are first turned on hungry to downs, heaths, or commons; but the soil and situations favourable to aromatic plants, produce a short sweet pasturage, best adapted to feeding sheep, whom nature designed for mountains, and not for turnip grounds and rich meadows. The attachment of bees to this, and other aromatic plants, is well known." Martyn's Miller [Smith's note, citing Thomas Martyn's revision of Philip Miller's The Gardener's and Botanist's Dictionar\', 1797-1807].
2. Tormentil. Tormentilla reptans [Smith's note]. 3. Bird's foot trefoil. Trifolium ornithopoides. Hawkweed. Hieracium, many sorts [Smith's note]. 4. The downs, especially to the south, where they are less abrupt, are in many places under the plough; and the attention of the shepherds is there particularly required to keep the flocks from trespassing [Smith's note].
5. Square holes cut in the turf, into which a wire noose is fixed, to catch Wheatears. Mr. White [Natural History of Selborne] says, that these birds (Motacilla oenanthe) are never taken beyond the river Adur, and Beding Hill; but this is certainly a mistake [Smith's note]. 6. These birds are extremely fearful, and on the slightest appearance of a cloud, run for shelter to the first rut, or heap of stone, that they see [Smith's note]. 7. The Yellow Wagtail. Motacilla flava. It frequents the banks of rivulets in winter, making its nest in meadows and corn-fields. But after the breeding season is over, it haunts downs and sheepwalks, and is seen constantly among the flocks, probably for the sake of the insects it picks up. In France the shepherds call it LaBergeronette, and say it often gives them, by its cry, notice of approaching danger [Smith's note].
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60 / CHARLOTTE SMITH
Beneath the shadow of a gnarled thorn,
480 Bent by the sea blast8 from a seat of turf With fairy nosegays strewn, how wide the view!9 Till in the distant north it melts away, And mingles indiscriminate with clouds: But if the eye could reach so far, the mart
485 Of England's capital, its domes and spires Might be perceived.�Yet hence the distant range Of Kentish hills,1 appear in purple haze; And nearer, undulate the wooded heights, And airy summits,2 that above the mole
490 Rise in green beauty; and the beacon'd ridge Of Black-down3 shagg'd with heath, and swelling rude Like a dark island from the vale; its brow Catching the last rays of the evening sun That gleam between the nearer park's old oaks,
495 Then lighten up the river, and make prominent The portal, and the ruin'd battlements4 Of that dismantled fortress; rais'd what time The Conqueror's successors fiercely fought, Tearing with civil feuds the desolate land.
500 But now a tiller of the soil dwells there, And of the turret's loop'd and rafter'd halls Has made an humbler homestead�Where he sees, Instead of armed foemen, herds that graze Along his yellow meadows; or his flocks
505 At evening from the upland driv'n to fold.�
In such a castellated mansion once A stranger chose his home; and where hard by In rude disorder fallen, and hid with brushwood Lay fragments gray of towers and buttresses,
510 Among the ruins, often he would muse.� His rustic meal soon ended, he was wont To wander forth, listening the evening sounds Of rushing milldam,5 or the distant team, Or night-jar, chasing fern-flies:6 the tir'd hind
8. The strong winds from the south-west occasion almost all the trees, which on these hills are exposed to it, to grow the other way [Smith's note]. 9. So extensive are some of the views from these hills, that only the want of power in the human eye to travel so far, prevents London itself being discerned. Description falls so infinitely short of the reality, that only here and there, distinct features can be given [Smith's note]. 1. A scar of chalk in a hill beyond Sevenoaks in Kent, is very distinctly seen of a clear day [Smith's note]. 2. The hills about Dorking in Surry; over almost the whole extent of which county the prospect extends [Smith's note]. "Mole" refers to the cliffs descending to the sea. 3. This is an high ridge, extending between Sussex and Surry. It is covered with heath, and has almost always a dark appearance. On it is a telegraph [Smith's note]. 4. In this country there are several of the fortresses or castles built by Stephen of Blois [King of England, 1135�54], in his contention for the kingdom, with the daughter of Henry the First, the empress Matilda. Some of these are now converted into farm houses [Smith's note].
5. I.e., the water in the dammed millstream. 6. Dr. Aikin remarks, I believe, in his essay "On the Application of Natural History to the Purposes of Poetry," how many of our best poets have noticed the same circumstance, the hum of the Dor Beetle (Scaraboens stercorarius) among the sounds heard by the evening wanderer. I remember only one instance in which the more remarkable, though by no means uncommon noise, of the Fern Owl, or Goatsucker, is mentioned. It is called the Night Hawk, the Jar Bird, the Churn Owl, and the Fern Owl, from its feeding on the Scaraboens solstitialis, or Fern Chafer, which it catches while on the wing with its claws, the middle toe of which is long and curiously serrated, on purpose to hold them. It was this bird that was intended to be
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BEACH Y HEA D / 6 1 515520525530 Pass'd him at nightfall, wondering he should sit On the hill top so late: they from the coast Who sought by-paths with their clandestine load, Saw with suspicious doubt, the lonely man Cross on their way: but village maidens thought His senses injur'd; and with pity say That he, poor youth! must have been cross'd in love� For often, stretch'd upon the mountain turf With folded arms, and eyes intently fix'd Where ancient elms and firs obscured a grange,0 Some little space within the vale below, They heard him, as complaining of his fate, And to the murmuring wind, of cold neglect And baffled hope he told.�The peasant girls These plaintive sounds remember, and even now Among them may be heard the stranger's songs. farm Were I a Shepherd on the hill And ever as the mists withdrew Could see the willows of the rill 535Shading the footway to the mill Where once I walk'd with you� 540And as away Night's shadows sail, And sounds of birds and brooks arise, Believe, that from the woody vale I hear your voice upon the gale In soothing melodies; 545And viewing from the Alpine height, The prospect dress'd in hues of air, Could say, while transient colours bright Touch'd the fair scene with dewy light, 'Tis, that her eyes are there! 550I think, I could endure my lot And linger on a few short years, And then, by all but you forgot, Sleep, where the turf that clothes the spot May claim some pitying tears. For 'tis not easy to forget One, who thro' life has lov'd you still, And you, however late, might yet
described in the Forty-second sonnet. I was mistaken in supposing it as visible in November; it is a migrant, and leaves this country in August. I had often seen and heard it, but I did not then know its name or history. It is called Goatsucker (Caprimitlgtis), from a strange prejudice taken against it by the Italians, who assert that it sucks their goats; and the peasants of England still believe that a disease in the backs of their cattle, occasioned by a