IN ALLUSION TO SOME ILLIBERAL CRITICISMS. WHY, let the stingless critic chide TO JULIA. Mocx me no more with Love's beguiling dream, Far dearer were than passion's bland deceit ! My fates had destined me to rove I now have reach'd THE SHRINE at last! TO A LADY, WITH SOME MANUSCRIPT POEMS, WHEN, casting many a look behind, Haply the little simple page, But, oh! in pity let not those Whose hearts are not of gentle mould, Let not the eye that seldom flows With feeling's tear, my song behold. But must we, must we part indeed? Is all our dream of rapture over? And does not Julia's bosom bleed To leave so dear, so fond a lover? Does she too mourn?-Perhaps she may; Perhaps she mourns our bliss so fleeting. But why is Julia's eye so gay, If Julia's heart like mine is beating? I oft have loved that sunny glow Of gladness in her blue eye gleaningBut can the bosom bleed with wo, While joy is in the glances beaming? No, no!-Yet, love, I will not chide; Although your heart were fond of roving, Nor that, nor all the world beside Could keep your faithful boy from loving. You'll soon be distant from his eye, And, with you, all that's worth possessing. Oh! then it will be sweet to die, When life has lost its only blessing! NATURE'S LABELS. A FRAGMENT. In vain we fondly strive to trace And many a sage and learned skull And where all men might read-but stay- The argument most apt and ample For common use is the example. And when that heart shall cease to beat, SONG. THE wreath you wove, the wreath you wove Is fair-but oh, how fair, If Pity's hand had stol'n from Love One leaf to mingle there! If every rose with gold were tied, Did gems for dewdrops fall, One faded leaf where Love had sigh'd Were sweetly worth them all. The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove Its bloom is yours, but hopeless Love The learned Prue took a pert young thing, And Tabitha begg'd, old toothless fair, But one was left, when Susan came, He smiled, and pruned his feather. But kisses were not enough for him, "Twould make you smile to've seen us Sweet child of bliss, And then nurse the boy between us. THE SALE OF LOVES. I DREAMT that, in the Paphian groves, Were never yet strung together. Ye dames and rose-lipp'd misses! They're new and bright, For the coin of this isle is kisses. First Cloris came, with looks sedate, Their coin on her lips was ready; "I buy," quo.h she, "my Love by weight, "Full grown, if you please, and steady." "Let mine be light," said Fanny, “pray— "Such 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, Ye dames and rose-lipp'd misses! There's some will keep, Some light and cheap, At from ten to twenty kisses. TO THE world had just begun to steal I felt not, as I used 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 But when I saw that gentle eye, With every gentle smile that cross'd 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. |