Classic Poem

Which prevented the Author returning to School at the expiration of the Christmas Holydays.

I ne'er did hail thy orient red,
Sol, when thou leav'st thy eastern bed,
And o'er the world thy glories spread,
and radiant power,
As when thou'st earth-drawn vapours shed
in heavy shower!

II.

And oft I upward cast mine eyes,
(Tho' not I ween o'er weather-wise)
And gladsome view the frowning skies;
while screaming crow
Proclaims the storm as high he flies,
to us below!

III.

Now glad I hear the wind blow bleak,
View puss by fire her station take,
And grandmama loud moanings make
of shooting corn;
For rain these signs portentous speak,
and gloomy morn!

IV.

Glad see I muddled streamlet stray,
Whose course no sun-beam renders gay,
Reflecting nought but wat'ry ray,
and dimpled o'er;
While goslings on its surface play
before the door!

V.

The clear, pellucid drops I view,
As large they fall, tho' yet but few,
— And sweet as California dew
to me appear;
Or stream that prophet Moses drew
From rocky source for murm'ring Jew,
in desart drear!

VI.

Now glad I throw straw bonnet by,
For sure to school I cannot hie,
While flood Deucalion pours the sky,
t'arrest my feet;
And this excuse I'll plead so sly,
compulsion sweet.