The _hollow winds_ begin to blow;
The _clouds look black_, the _glass is low_;
The _soot falls down_, the _spaniels sleep_;
And _spiders_ from their _cobwebs peep_.
Last night the _sun_ went _pale to bed_;
The _moon_ in _halos_ hid her head.
The boding shepherd heaves a sigh,
For, see, a _rainbow_ spans the sky.
The _walls are damp_, the _ditches smell_,
_Clos’d_ is the pink-ey’d _pimpernel_.
Hark! how the _chairs_ and _tables_ crack,
_Old Betty’s joints_ are on the rack:
Her _corns_ with _shooting pains_ torment her,
And to her bed untimely send her.
Loud _quack the ducks_, the _sea fowl cry_,
The _distant hills_ are _looking nigh_.
How restless are the _snorting swine_!
The _busy flies_ disturb the _kine_.
_Low_ o’er the _grass_ the _swallow wings_
The _cricket_ too, how _sharp he sings_!
_Puss_ on the hearth, with _velvet paws_,
Sits _wiping_ o’er her _whisker’d jaws_.
The _smoke_ from _chimneys right ascends_
Then spreading, _back to earth it bends_.
The _wind_ unsteady _veers around_,
Or settling in the _South is found_.
Through the clear stream the _fishes rise_,
And _nimbly catch_ the incautious _flies_.
The _glow-worms_ num’rous, clear and bright,
_Illum’d_ the _dewy hill_ last night.
At dusk the squalid _toad_ was seen,
Like _quadruped_, stalk o’er the green.
The _whirling wind_ the dust obeys,
And in the _rapid eddy_ plays.
The _frog_ has chang’d his _yellow vest_,
And in a _russet coat_ is drest.
The _sky is green_, the air is still.
The _mellow_ blackbird’s voice is shrill.
The _dog_, so alter’d is his taste,
Quits mutton-bones, on _grass_ to feast.
Behold the _rooks_, how odd their flight
They imitate the _gliding kite_,
And seem _precipitate to fall_,
As if they felt the piercing ball.
The _tender colts on back do lie_,
Nor heed the traveller passing by.
In _fiery red_ the _sun_ doth _rise_,
Then _wades through clouds_ to mount the skies.
’Twill _surely rain_, we see’t with sorrow,
No _working in the fields to-morrow_.
_Darwin._
~January 14.~
OXFORD LENT TERM _begins_.
_St. Hilary._ _St. Felix._ _Sts. Isaias and Sabbas._ _St.
Barbasceminus_, _&c._
St. Felix of Nola, an exorcist, and afterwards a priest, was, according
to Butler and Ribadeneira, a great miraculist. He lived under Decius, in
250; being fettered and dungeoned in a cell, covered with potsherds and
broken glass, a resplendent angel, seen by the saint alone, because to
him only was he sent, freed him of his chains and guided him to a
mountain, where bishop Maximus, aged and frozen, lay for dead, whom
Felix recovered by praying; for, straightway, he saw a bramble bear a
bunch of grapes, with the juice whereof he recovered the bishop, and
taking him on his back carried him home to his diocese. Being pursued by
pagans, he fled to some ruins and crept through a hole in the wall,
which spiders closed with their webs before the pagans got up to it, and
there lay for six months miraculously supported. According to the
Legend, his body, for ages after his death, distilled a liquor that
cured diseases.