If I were yonder couch of gold, And thou the pearl within it plac'd, I would not let an eye behold The sacred gem my arms embrac'd! If I were yonder orange-tree, And thou the blossom blooming there, The soft reflection of thine eye. And die upon the shade of thee! Thy blush on every flowret lies. I pray thee, on those lips of thine To wear this rosy leaf for me, All other charms of thine I meet In nature, but thy sigh alone; Then take, oh! take, though not so sweet, The breath of roses for thine own! So, while I walk the flowery grove, The bud that gives, through morning dew, The lustre of the lips I love, May seem to give their perfume too! ON SEEING AN INFANT IN NEA'S ARMS. THE first ambrosial child of bliss, Her dark hair fell, in mazes bright, 1 Referunt tamen quidam in interiore India avem esse, nomine Semendam, etc. Cardan. 10 de Subtilitat. Cæsar Scaliger seems to think Semenda but another name for the Phonix. Exercitat. 233. Oh! 'twas a type of stolen joy, "Twas love beneath the veil of night! Soft as she smil'd, he smil'd again; They seem'd so kindred in their charms, That one might think, the babe had then Just budded in her blooming arms! THE SNOW SPIRIT. Tu potes insulitas, Cynthia, ferre nives? Propert Lib. i. Eleg. 8. No, ne'er did the wave in its element steep It blooms in the giant embrace of the deep, The tint of your bowers is balm to the eye, But the fiery planet of day is too nigh, And the Snow-Spirit never comes here! And it falls on the green earth as melting, my girl, Oh, fly to the clime, where he pillows the death, He flings, like the priest of Diana, a veil O'er the brow of each virginal thorn! But fly to his region-lay open thy zone, But the Snow-Spirit cannot come here! Ενταύθα δε καθωρμισται ημίν, και ό, τι μεν ονόμα τη νησω ουκ οίδα χρυση δ' αν τρος γε εμου ονομάζοιτο. Philostrat. Icon. 17. Lib. 2. I STOLE along the flowery bank, That wing'd me round this fairy shore ! 1 The sea-side or mangrove grape, a native of the West Indies. And, light, along the water's brim, I steered my gentle bark by him; For Fancy told me, Love had sent This snowy bird of blandishment, To lead me where my soul should meet- Blest be the little pilot dove! Just where the margin's opening shade What spell, what magic rais'd her there? Its playful sabbath, while he sleeps! The broad banana's green embrace Her eyelid's black and silken fringe ON THE LOSS OF A LETTER INTENDED FOR NEA. OH! it was fill'd with words of flame, With all the wishes wild and dear, Which love may write, but dares not name, 1 The Agave. I know that this is an erroneous idea, but it is quite true enough for poetry. Plato, I think, allows a poet to be "three removes from truth;" TRITATOS ANO THE MANDING. Of many a nightly dream it told, When all that chills the heart by day, Free from the senses' guilty shame, As virtue's self would blush to blame! How could he lose such tender words? Words! that of themselves should spring TO NEA's ear, like panting birds, With heart and soul upon their wing Oh! fancy what they dar'd to speak; Think all a virgin's shame can dread, Nor pause until thy conscious cheek Shall burn with thinking all they said! And I shall feign, shall fancy, too, Some dear reply thou might'st have given Shall make that lip distil its dew In promise bland and hopes of heaven! Shall think it tells of future days, When the averted cheek will turn, If colder hope thy answer brings, Since I can dream such dearer things! I FOUND her not-the chamber seem'd It felt, as if her lips had shed Of melodies which had been there! Had floated o'er her cheek of rose; Her limbs had left, as pure and warm A KISS A L'ANTIQUE. BEHOLD, my love, the curious gem Within this simple ring of gold; 'Tis hallow'd by the touch of them' Who liv'd in classic hours of old. Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps, Upon her hand this gem display'd, Nor thought that time's eternal lapse Should see it grace a lovelier maid! Look, darling, what a sweet design! The more we gaze, it charms the more: Come, closer bring that cheek to mine, And trace with me its beauties o'er. Thou see'st, it is a simple youth By some enamour'd nymph embrac'dLook, NEA, love! and say, in sooth, Is not her hand most dearly plac'd! Upon his curled head behind It seems in careless play to lie,' Yet presses gently, half inclin'd To bring his lip of nectar nigh! Oh happy maid! too happy boy! The one so fond and faintly loath, The other yielding slow to joy Oh, rare indeed, but blissful both! Imagine, love, that I am he, And just as warm as he is chilling; Imagine, too, that thou art she, But quite as cold as she is willing: So may we try the graceful way In which their gentle arms are twin'd, And thus, like her, my hand I lay Upon thy wreathed hair behind: And thus I feel thee breathing sweet, As slow to mine thy head I move; And thus our lips together meet, And thus I kiss thee-oh, my love! • λιβανοτω εικασεν, ότι απολλύμενον ευφραίνει. Aristot. Rhetor. Lib. iii. Cap. 4. THERE's not a look, a word of thine My soul hath e'er forgot; There never yet a murmur fell From that beguiling tongue, Like something heaven had sung! All, all that haunts me so— 1 Somewhat like the symplegma of Cupid and Psyche at Florence, in which the position of Psyche's hand is finely expressive of affection. See the Museum Florentinum, Tom. ii. Tab. 43, 44. I know of very few subjects in which poetry could be more interestingly employed, than in illustrating some of the ancient statues and gems. EPISTLE V. TO JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ. FROM BERMUDA.1 March. "THE daylight is gone-but, before we depart, 'Twas thus, by the shade of a calabash-tree, Oh! say, do you thus, in the luminous hour 1 Pinkerton has said that "a good history and description of the Bermudas might afford a pleasing addition to the geographical library" but there certainly are not materials for such a work. The island, since the time of its discovery, has experienced so very few vicissitudes, the people have been so indolent, and their trade so limited, that there is but little which the historian could amplify into importance; and, with respect to the natural productions of the country, the few which the inhabitants can be induced to cultivate are so common in the West Indies, that they have been described by every naturalist, who has written any account of those islands. It is often asserted by the trans-atlantic politicians, that this little colony deserves more attention from the mothercountry than it receives; and it certainly possesses advantages of situation, to which we should not be long insensible, if it were once in the hands of an enemy. I was told by a celebrated friend of Washington, at New-York, that they had formed a plan for its capture, towards the conclusion of the American War; "with the intention (as he expressed himself,) of making it a nest of hornets for the annoyanco of British trade in that part of the world." And there is no doubt, it lies so fairly in the track to the West Indies, that an enemy might with ease convert it into a very harassing impediment. The plan of Bishop Berkeley for a college at Bermuda, where American savages might be converted and educated, though concurred in by the government of the day, was a wild and useless speculation. Mr. Hamilton, who was governor of the island some years since, proposed, if I mistake not, the establishment of a marine academy for the instruction of those children of West Indians, who might be intended for any nautical employment. This was a more rational idea, and for something of this nature the island is admirably calculated. But the plan should be much more extensive, and embrace a general system of education, which would entirely remove the alternative, in which the colonists are involved at present, of either sending their sons to England for instruction, or entrusting them to colleges in the States of America, where ideas by no means favourable to Great Britain, are very sedulously inculcated. The women of Bermuda, though not generally handsome, have an affectionate languor in their look and manner, which is always interesting. What the French imply by their epithet aimante seems very much the character of the young Bermudian girls-that predisposition to loving, which, without being awakened by any particular object, diffuses itself through the general manner in a tone of tenderness that never fails to fascinate. The men of the island, I con fess, are not very civilized; and the old philosopher, who imagined that, after this life, men would be changed into mules, and women into turtle-doves, would find the meta Imorphosis in some degree anticipated at Bermuda. Last night, when we came from the calabash-tree, The friends, who were dear and beloved before, Oh, magic of love! unembellish'd by you, Alas! that a vision so happy should fade! That, when morning around me in brilliancy play'd, And to gather the roses, had fled with my dream! But see, through the harbour, in floating array, LOVE AND REASON. "Quand l'homme commence à raisonner, il cesse de sentir." J. J. Rousseau. "TWAS in the summer-time so sweet, Love told his dream of yester-night, 1 Mountains of Sicily, upon which Daphnis, the first inrentor of bucolic poetry, was nursed by the nymphs.-See ne lively description of these mountains in Diodorus Sicuule, Lib iv. Ηραία γαρ όρη κατά την Σικελίαν εστιν, ο φασι καλλει κ. τ. λ. 2 A ship, ready to sail for England. 3 Quoted somewhere in St. Pierre's Etudes de la Nature. The boy in many a gambol flew, A lengthen'd shadow, as she walk'd. Fell on the boy, and cool'd him still. For still the maid's gigantic form He bid the portly nymph adieu! Now gaily roves the laughing boy And drinking bliss in every beam. From all the gardens, all the bowers, He cull'd the many sweets they shaded, And ate the fruits, and smelt the flowers, Till taste was gone and odour faded! But now the sun, in pomp of noon, Look'd blazing o'er the parched plains; Alas! the boy grew languid soon, And fever thrill'd through all his veins! The dew forsook his baby brow, No more with vivid bloom he smil'dOh! where was tranquil Reason now, To cast her shadow o'er the child? Beneath a green and aged palm, His foot at length for shelter turning, He saw the nymph reclining calm, With brow as cool as his was burning! "Oh! take me to that bosom cold," In murmurs at her feet he said; And Reason op'd her garment's fold, And flung it round his fever'd head. He felt her bosom's icy touch, And soon it lull'd his pulse to rest; For, ah! the chill was quite too much, And Love expir'd on Reason's breast! NAY, do not weep, my FANNY dear! The world!-ah, FANNY! love must shun What can we wish, that is not here Is there, on earth, a space so dear, As that within the blessed sphere Two loving arms entwine! For me there's not a lock of jet Along your temples curl'd, Within whose glossy, tangled net, My soul doth not, at once, forget All, all the worthless world! 'Tis in your eyes, my sweetest love! My only worlds I see; Let but their orbs in sunshine move, And earth below and skies above May frown or smile for me! ASPASIA. MOORE'S WORKS. "Twas in the fair ASPASIA's bower, There, as the listening statesman hung Was plann'd between two snowy arms! Sweet times! you could not always last→ FANNY, my love, they ne'er shall say, THE GRECIAN GIRL'S DREAM OF THE BLESSED ISLANDS.' TO HER LOVER. όχι το καλος Πυθαγόρης, οσσοι το χορον στηρίξαν έρωτος. Απόλλων περι Πλωτινκ. Oracul. Metric. a Joan. Opsop. Collecta. Was it the moon, or was it morning's ray, 1 "It was imagined by some of the ancients that there is an ethereal ocean above us, and that the sun and moon are Upon my breath thy sigh yet faintly hung; While thus I lay, in this voluptuous calm, Soft o'er my brow, which kindled with their sighs, Thou know'st, my love, beyond our clouded skies, As bards have dream'd, the spirits' kingdom lies. Through that fair clime a sea of ether rolls? Gemm'd with bright islands, where the hallow'd souls, 1 Eunapius, in his life of Jambhchus, tells us of two beautiful little spirits or loves, which Jamblichus raised by enchantment from the warm springs at Gadara; "dicena astantibus (says the author of the Dii Fatidici, p. 160) illos esse loci Genios:" which words however are not in Eunapius. I find from Cellarius, that Amatha, in the neighbourhood of Gardara, was also celebrated for its warm springs, and I have preferred it as a more poetical name than Gadara. Cellarius quotes Hieronymus. "Est et alia villa in vicinia Gadaræ nomine Amatha, ubi calidæ aquæ erumpunt."Geograph. Antiq. Lib. iii. cap. 13. 2 This belief of an ocean in the heavens, or "waters above the firmament," was one of the many physical errors in which the early fathers bewildered themselves. Le P. Baltus, in his "Defense des saints Pères accusés de Platonisme," taking it for granted that the ancients were more correct in their notions, (which by no means appears from what I have |