Was it the wailing bird of the gloom, That shrieks on the house of woe all night? TO JULIA Or a shiv’ring fiend that flew to a tomb, To howl and to feed till the glance of light? ON HER BIRTHDAY. Wes Time was entwining the garland of years, 'Twas not the death-bird's cry from the wood, Which to crown my beloved was given, For shiv’ring fiend that hung on the blast; Though some of the leaves might be sullied with | 'Twas the shade of Helderic -man of blood tears, It screams for the guilt of days that are past. Yet the flow’rs were all gather'd in heaven. See, how the red, red lightning strays, And long may this garland be sweet to the eye, And scares the gliding ghosts of the heath! May its verdure for ever be new; Now on the leafless yew it plays, Young Love shall enrich it with many a sigh, Where hangs the shield of this son of death. And Sympathy nurse it with dew. That shield is blushing with murd'rous stains ; Long has it hung from the cold yew's spray; But neither can take the blood away! Oft by that yew, on the blasted field, While the damp boughs creak, and the swinging And foams and sparkles for awhile, – shield Then murmuring subsides to rest. Sings to the raving spirit of night! And when that heart shall cease to beat, And when that breath at length is free, Then, Rosa, soul to soul we'll meet, And mingle to eternity! The learned Prue took a pert young thing, To divert her virgin Muse with, And pluck sometimes a quill from his wing, To indite her billet-doux with. Her only eye, if you'd ask it ; Come buy my Loves, &c. &c. SONG. The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove Is fair— but oh, how fair, One leaf to mingle there! Did gems for dewdrops fall, Were sweetly worth them all. Our emblem well may be ; Must keep its tears for me. But one was left, when Susan came, One worth them all together ; He smild, and prun'd his feather. Her looks, her sighs betray'd it ; But kisses were not enough for him, I ask'd a heart, and she paid it ! Good-by, my Loves, Good-by, my Loves, 'Twould make you smile to've seen us First trade for this Sweet child of bliss, THE SALE OF LOVES. TO The world had just begun to steal Each hope that led me lightly on ; I felt not, as I us'd to feel, And life grew dark and love was gone. No eye to mingle sorrow's tear, No lip to mingle pleasure's breath, No circling arms to draw me near 'Twas gloomy, and I wish'd for death. I DREANT that, in the Paphian groves, My nets by moonlight laying, Among the rose-beds playing. While some were full in feather; So pretty a lot of Loves to sell, Were never yet strung together. Come buy my Loves, Come buy my Loves, They're new and bright, The cost is light, Their coin on her lips was ready; * Full grown, if you please, and steady." * Let mine be light,” said Fanny,“ pray — “ Sach lasting toys undo one ; * A light little Love that will last to-day, – * To-morrow I'll sport a new one." Come buy my Loves, Come buy my Loves, There's some will keep, Some light and cheap, But when I saw that gentle eye, Oh ! something seem'd to tell me then, That I was yet too young to die, And hope and bliss might bloom again. 66 With every gentle smile that crost Your kindling cheek, you lighted home Some feeling, which my heart had lost, And peace, which far had learn'd to roam. 'Twas then indeed so sweet to live, Hope look'd so new and Love so kind, That, though I mourn, I yet forgive The ruin they have left behind. |
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