New game each hour, the youngest Love
Was able to break through them.

Come, listen, maids, &c.

Meanwhile, young Sue, whose cage was wrought

Of bars too strong to sever,
One Love with golden pinions caught,

And caged him there for ever;
Instructing, thereby, all coquettes,
Whate'er their looks or ages,
That, though 't is pleasant weaving Nets,
"Tis wiser to make Cages.

Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile
The task your fingers ply.-
May all who hear like Susan smile,
And not, like Cloe, sigh!

WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS?

(PORTUGUESE Air.)

YMEN, late, his love-knots selling,

Call'd at many a maiden's dwelling;
None could doubt, who saw or knew them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.

"Who'll buy my love knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?"
Soon as that sweet cry resounded,
How his baskets were surrounded!

Maids, who now first dreamt of trying
These gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Passing by, but ne'er could catch him ;-
"Who'll buy my love-knots ?
Who'll buy my love-knots ?"---

All at that sweet cry assembled ;

Some laugh'd, some blush'd, and some trembled.

"Here are knots," said Hymen, taking
Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making;
Here are gold ones-you may trust 'em "-
(These, of course, found ready custom).

"Come, buy my love-knots!
Come, buy my love-knots!

Some are labell'dKnots to tie men-
Love the maker-Bought of Hymen.'

Scarce their bargains were completed,

999

When the nymphs all cried, "We're cheated! See these flowers-they're drooping sadly; This gold-knot, too, ties but badly

Who'd buy such love-knots ?

Who'd buy such love-knots?

Even this tie, with Love's name round it-

All a sham-He never bound it."

Love, who saw the whole proceeding,

Would have laugh'd, but for good-breeding;

While Old Hymen, who was used to
Cries like that these dames gave loose to-

"Take back our love-knots!

Take back our love-knots!"

Coolly said, "There's no returning

Wares on Hymen's hands-Good morning!"

When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlit sea;

When Mirth's awake, and Love begins,
Beneath that glancing ray,

With sound of lutes and mandolins,

To steal young hearts away.

Then, come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,

When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlit sea.

Oh, then's the hour for those who love,

Sweet! like thee and me;

When all's so calm below, above,
In heav'n and o'er the sea;
When maidens sing sweet barcarolles,
And Echo sings again

So sweet, that all with ears and souls
Should love and listen then.

So, come to me when daylight sets
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets

O'er the moonlit sea.

LOVE AND PALLAS.

S Love, one summer eve, was straying,!
Who should he see, at that soft hour,
But young Minerva, gravely playing
Her flute within an olive bow'r.

I need not say, 'tis Love's opinion
That, grave or merry, good or ill,
The sex all bow to his dominion,
As woman will be woman still.

Though seldom yet the boy hath giv'n

To learned dames his smiles or sighs,
So handsome Pallas look'd, that ev'n
Love quite forgot the maid was wise.
Besides, a youth of his discerning

Knew well that, by a shady rill,
At sunset hour, whate'er her learning,
A woman will be woman still.

Her flute he praised in terms ecstatic,-
Wishing it dumb, nor cared how soon ;—
For Wisdom's notes, howe'er chromatic,

To Love seem always out of tune.
But long as he found face to flatter,

The nymph found breath to shake and thrill; As weak or wise-it doesn't matter

Woman, at heart, is woman still.

Love changed his plan, with warmth exclaiming, "How rosy was her lip's soft dye!"

And much that flute, the flatt'rer, blaming,

For twisting lips so sweet awry.