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While I, as oft, in witching thought shall rove
To thee, to friendship, and that land I love,
Where, like the air that fans her fields of green,
Her freedom spreads, unfever'd and serene ;
Where sovereign man can condescend to see
The throne and laws more sovereign still than he !

THE SNAKE.

1801. My love and I, the other day, Within a myrtle arbour lay, When near us from a rosy bed, A little Snake put forth its head. “ See," said the maid, with laughing eyes “ Yonder the fatal emblem lies ! Who could expect such hidden harm Beneath the rose's velvet charm? Never did mortal thought occur

In more unlucky hour than this;
For oh! I just was leading her

To talk of love and think of bliss.
I rose to kill the snake, but she
In pity pray'd, it might not be.
"No," said the girl and many a spark

Flash'd from her eyelid, as she said it“ Vader the rose, or in the dark,

One might, perhaps, have eause to dread it; But when its wicked eyes appear,

And when we know for what they wink so, One must be very simple, dear,

To let it sting one-don't you think so ?''

Nor long did the soul of the stranger remain

Unbless'd by the smile he had languish'd to meet : Though scarce did he hope it would soothe him

again, Till the threshold of home had been kiss'd by his

feet! But the lays of his boy-hood had stol'n to their ear, And they lov'd what they knew of so humble a

name, And they told him, with flattery welcome and dear, That they found in his heart something sweeter

than famne! Nor did woman-oh, woman! whose form and whose

soul
Are the spell and the light of each path we pursue!
Whether sunn'd in the tropics or chill'd at the pole,

If woman be there, there is happiness too!
Nor did she hor enamouring magic deny,

That magic his heart had relinquish'd so long,
Like eyes he had loved was her eloquent eye,

Like them did it soften and weep at his song.
Oh! bless'd be the tear, and in memory oft

May its sparkle be shed o'er his wandering dream!
Oh! blest be that eye, and may passion as soft,

As free from a pang, ever mellow its beam!
The stranger is gone—but he will not forget,
When at home he shall talk of the tcil he has

known,
To tell, with a sigh, what endearments he met.

As he stray'd by the wave of the Schuylkill alone!

LINES,

THE FALL OF HEBE.

A DITHYRAMBIC ODE.

'Twas on a day
When the immortals at their banquet lay;

The bowl
Sparkled with starry dew,
The weeping of those myriad urns of light,
Within whose orbs, the almighty Power,

At Nature's dawning hour,

WRITTEN ON LEAVING PHILADELPHIA.

Τηνει την πολιν φίλως
E17wv* $**ž* yup.

Sophocl. (Edip. Colon v. 758.

1 Though I call this a Dithyrambic Ode, I cannot presume ALONE by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd,

to say that it possesses, in any degree, the characteristics of And bright were its flowery banks to his eye ; that species of poetry. The nature of the ancient Dithy. But far, very far were the friends that he lov'd, rambie is very imperfectly known. According to M. Bu

relte, a licentious irregularity of metre, an extravagant And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh!

research of thought and expression, and a rude embarrassed Oh, nature ! though blessed and bright are thy rays,

construction, are among its most distinguishing features.

He adds, "Ces caractères des dilyrambes se font sentir à O'er the brow of creation enehantingly thrown, ceux qui lisent attentivement les odes de Pindare." MeYet faint are they all to the lustre that plays

moires de l'Acad. vol. x. p. 306. And the same opinion may

be collected from Schmidt's dissertation upon the subjeci. In a smile from the heart that is dearly our own! But I think if the Dithyrambics of Pindar were in our poe

session, we should find, thal, however wild and fanciful,

they were by no means the tasteless jargon they are reprequisbes the present demagogues of the United States, and sented, and that even their irregularity was what Boileau has become indeed too generally the characteristic of their calls "un beau désordre." Chiabrera, who has been styled countrymen. But there is another cause of the corruption the Pindar of Italy, and from whom all its poetry upon the of private morals, which, encouraged as it is by the govern-Greek model was called Chiabreresco (ns Crescimbeni inment, and identified with the interests of the community, forms us, Lib. i. cap. 12.) has given amongst his Venilem seems to threaten the decay of all honest principle in Ame- mie, a Dithyrambic, " all' uso de' Greci:" it is full of those rica: I allude to those fraudulent violations of neutrality compound epithets which, we are told, were a chief characto which they are indebted for the most lucrative part of ter of the style (our SoTous so negars storov. Suid A. Supz yao their commerce, and by which they have so long infringed 80808;) such as and counteracted the maritime rights and advantages of this country. This unwarrantable trade is necessarily a bet

Briglindorato Pegaso ter by such a system of collusion, imposture, and perjury,

Nubicalpestator. is cannot fail to spread rapid contamination around it. But I cannot supposo that Pindar, even amidst all the li

R

Stor'd the rich fluid of ethereal soul!

The Olympian cup
Around,

Burn'd in the hands
Soft odorous clouds, that upward wing their flight Of dimpled Hebe, as she wing'd her feet
From eastern isles

Up (Where they have bathed them in the orient ray,

The empyreal mount,
And with fine fragrance all their bosoms fill'd,) To drain the soul-drops at their stellar fount;'
In circles flew, and, melting as they flew,

And still,
A liquid day-break o'er the board distilld!

As the resplendent rill
AN, al was luxury

Flamed o'er the goblet with a mantling heat,

Her graceful care
All must be luxury, where Lyæus smiles!

Would cool its heavenly fire
His locks divine

In gelid waves of snowy-feather'd air,
Were crown'd

Such as the children of the pole respire,
With a bright meteor-braid,

In those enchanted lands? Which, like an ever-springing wreath of vine,

Where life is all a spring and north winds never blow! Shot into brilliant leafy shapes,

But oh!
And o'er his brow in lambent tendrils play'd !

Sweet Hebe, what a tear
While 'mid the foliage hung,

And what a blush were thine,
Like lucid grapes,

When, as the breath of every Grace
A thousand clustering blooms of light,

Wafted thy fleet career Cullid from the gardens of the galaxy !

Along the studded sphere, Upon his bosom Cytherea's head

With a rich cup for Jove himself to drink, Lay lovely, as wnen first the Syrens sung

Some star, that glitter'd in the way,
Her beauty's dawn,

Raising its amorous head
And all the curtains of the deep, undrawn,

To kiss so exquisite a tread,
Reveald her sleeping in its azure bed.

Check’d thy impatient pace!
The captive deity

And all Heaven's host of eyes
Languish'd upon her eyes and lip,

Saw those luxuriant beauties sink
In chains of ecstacy!

In lapse of loveliness, along the azure skies !3
Now in his arm,

Upon whose starry plain they lay,
In blushes she reposed,

Like a young blossom on our meads of gold, And, while her zone resign'd its every charm,

Shed from a vernal thorn To shade his burning eyes her hand in dalliance stole;

Amid the liquid sparkles of the morn!
And now she raised her rosy mouth to sip

Or, as in temples of the Paphian shade,
The nectar'd wave

The myrtled votaries of the queen behold
Lyæus gave,

An image of their rosy idol, laid
And from her eyelids, gently closed,

Upon a diamond shrine!
Shed a dissolving gleam,

The wanton wind,
Which fell, like sun-dew, in the bowl!

Which had pursued the flying fair,
While her bright hair, in mazy flow

And sweetly twin'd
Of gold descending

Its spirit with the breathing rings
Along her cheek's luxurious glow,

Of her ambrosial hair,
Waved o'er the goblet's side,
And was reflected by its crystal tide,

1 Heraclitus (Physicus) held the soul to be a spark of the

stellar essence. "Scintilla stellaris essentiæ."- Macrobius, Like a sweet crocus flower,

in Somn. Scip. Lib. i. cap. 14. Whose sunny leaves, at evening hour,

? The country of the Hyperboreans; they were supposed With roses of Cyrene blending,

to be placed so far north, that the north wind could not affect them; they lived longer than any other mortals; passed

their whole time in music and dancing, etc. etc. But the cense of dithyrambics, would ever have descended to ballad- most extravagant fiction related of them is that to which the language like the following:

two lines preceding allude. It was imagined, that instead

of our vulgar atmosphere, the Hyperboreang breathed Bella Filli, e bella Clori Non piu dar pregio a tue bellezze e taci,

nothing but feathers! According to Herodotus and Pliny,

this idea was suggested by the quantity of snow which was Che se Bacco fa vezzi allo mie labbra

observed to fall in those regions; thus the former: Ta ony Fo le fiche a' vostri baci. esser vorrei Coppier,

πτερα εικαζοντας την χιονα τους Σκυθας τε και τους τι

proixouş Somew 2:7600.- Herodot. lib. iv. cap. 31. Ovid tells E se troppo dosiro

the fable otherwise. See Metamorph. lib. xv. Deh fossi io Bottiglier.

Mr. O'Halloran, and some other Irish Antiquarians, have Rime del Chiabrera, part ii. p. 352.

been at great expense of learning to prove that the strange 1 This is a Platonic fancy; the philosopher supposes, in country, where they took snow for feathers, was Ireland, his Timæus, that, when the Deity had formed the soul of the and that the famous Abaris was an Irish Druid. Mr. Rowworld, he proceeded to the composition of other souls ; in land, however, will have it at Abarig was a Welshman, which process, says Plato, he made use of the same cup, and ihnt his name is only a corruption of Ap Rees! though the ingredienis he mingled were not quite so pure as 3 I believe it is Servius who mentions this unlucky trip for the former; and having refined the mixture with a little which Hebe made in her occupation of cup-bearer; and of his own essence, he distributed it amongst the stars which Hoffman tells it after him; "Cum Hebe pocula Jovi admiserved as reservoirs of the fiuid.

Txut' SITI *** **21*nistrans, perque lubricum minus caute incedens, cecidisset 196 TOY a potepow xpx72* HY W TRU TOU TAVT05 Yuxnv xa-revolutisque vestibus"-in short, she fell in a very awkward parvus uitys, *.T.A.

manner, and though (as the Encyclopédistes think) it would 2 We learn from Theophrastus, that the roses of Cyrene have amused Jove at any other time, yet, as be happened were particularly fragrant. Evoc HIT&T* 1* Si Tu av Kv-to ho out of temper on that day, the poor girl was dismissed

fron ver employment.

*

Soar'd as she fell, and on its ruffling wings,

When round him, in profusion weeping, (Oh wanton wind !)

Dropp'd the celestial shower, Wafted the robe, whose sacred flow,

Steeping
Shadow'd her kindling charms of snow,

The rosy clouds, that curl'd
Pure, as an Eleusinian veil

About his infant head,
Hangs o'er the mysteries !!

Like myrrh upon the locks of Cupid shed !

· But, when the waking boy
* the brow of Juno Aushed-

Waved his exhaling tresses through the sky,
Love bless'd the breeze!

O morn' of joy!
The Muses blush'd,

The tide divine,
And every cheek was hid behind a lyre,

All glittering with the vermeil dye
While every eye was glancing through the strings.

It drank beneath his orient eye,
Drops of ethereal dew,

Distill'd in dews upon the world,
That burning gush'd,

And every drop was wine, was heavenly WINE
As the great goblet flew
From Hebe's pearly fingers through the sky!

Bless'd be the sod, the flow'ret blest, Who was the spirit that remember'd Man

That caught, upon their hallow'd breast, In that voluptuous hour?

The nectar'd spray of Jove's perennial springs ! And with a wing of Love

Less sweet the flow'ret, and less sweet the sod Brush'd off your scatter'd tears,

O'er which the Spirit of the rainbow Alings As o'er the spangled heaven they ran,

The magic mantle of her solar god!'
And sent them floating to our orb below !?
Essence of immortality!

The shower
Fell glowing through the spheres

TO
While all around new tints of bliss,

That wrinkle, when first I espied it,
New perfumes of delight,

At once put my heart out of pain,
Enrich'd its radiant flow!

Till the eye that was glowing beside it
Now, with a humid kiss,

Disturb'd my ideas again!
It thrill'd along the beamy wire
Of Heaven's illumin'd lyre,'

Thou art just in the twilight at present

When woman's declension begins, Stealing the soul of music in its flight !

When, fading from all that is pleasant,
And now, amid the breezes bland,

She bids a good night to her sins !
That whisper from the planets as they roll,
The bright libation, softly fann'd

Yet thou still art so lovely to me,
By all their sighs, meandering stole!

I would sooner, my exquisite mother!
They who, from Atlas' height,

Repose in the sunset of thee
Beheld the hill of flame

Than bask in the noon of another!
Descending through the waste of night,
Thought 'twas a planet, whose stupendous frame
Had kindled, as it rapidly revolv'd

ANACREONTIC.
Around its fervid axle, and dissolv'd
Into a flood so bright!

" She never look'd so kind before
The child of day,

Yet why the wanton's smile recall!
Within his twilight bower,

I've seen this witchery o'er and o'er,
Lay sweetly sleeping

'Tis hollow, vain, and heartless all!". On the flush'd bosom of a lotos-flower;"

Thus I said, and, sighing, sipp'd

The wine which she had lately tasted; 1 The arcane symbols of this ceremony were deposited in The cup, where she had lately dipp'd the cista, where they lay religiously concealed from the eyes of the profane. They were generally carried in the proces

Brcath, so long in falsehood wasted. sion by an ass; and hence the proverb, which one may so often apply in the world, "asinus portat mysteria." See

I took the harp, and would have sung the Divine Legation, Book ii. sect. 4.

As if 'twere not of her I sang; 2 In the Geoponica, Lib. ii. cap. 17, there is a fable some what like this descent of the noctar to earth. Ev

oupxVw των θεων ευωχούμενων, και του νεκταρος πολλοί παρά::μ:: Isid. et Ogir. Observing that the Iotos showed its head

Plutarch. περι τα μη χραν έμμετρ. See also his treatise wow, *v*7*0PT70** %oprive Tou Ep T* *** πτερο του κρατηρος την βασιν, και περιτρεψαι μεν αυτον: above water at sun-rise, and sark again at his getting, they TO So I*T*P 915 Tavahu exmubov, *. T. A.' See Auctor. de conceived the idea of consecrating it to Osiris, or the sun. Re Rust, edit. Contab. 1704.

This symbol of a youth sitting upon a lotos, is very fro

Se Mont 3 The constellation Lyra. The astrologers attribute quent on the Abraxases, or Basilidian stones. great virtues to this sign in ascendenti, which are enume- jaucon, Tom. ii. planche 158, and the Supplement. etc. rated by Pontano, in his Urania:

Tom. ii. lib. vii. chap. 5.

1 The ancients esteemed those flowers and trees tho -Ecce novem cum pectine chordas

sweetest upon which the rainbow had appeared to rest; and Emodulans, muleet que novo vaga sidera cantu, the wood they chiefly burned in sacrifices, was that which Quo caple nascentum animæ concordia ducunt

the smile of Iris bad consecrated.-- Plutarch Sympos. Lib Pectora, etc.

iv. cap. 2, where (as Vossius remarks) ****, instead of 4 The Egyptians represented the dawn of day by a young mansri, is undoubtedly the genuine reading. See Vossius, boy soated upon a lotos. E.- Augustss expaxw5 sepsene for some curious particularities of the rainbow, De Origin av2TO485 * *18500 voogoor y pzpont *SITI AWT" ** $olouevov. Jet Progress, Idololat. Lib. ii. cap. 13.

But still the notes on Lamia hung

On whom but LAMIA could they hang! That kiss, for which, if worlds were mine,

A world for every kiss I'd give her; Those floating eyes, that floating shine

Like diamonds in an eastern river ! That mould so fine, se pearly bright,

Of which luxurious Heaven hath cast her, Through which her soul doth beam as white

As flame through lamps of alabaster! Of these I sung, and notes and words

Were sweet as if 'twas Lamia's hair That lay upon my late for chords,

And Lamia's lip that warbled there! But when, alas ! I turn'd the theme,

And when of vows and oaths 1 spoke,
Of truth, and hope's beguiling dream-

The chord beneath my finger broke!
False harp! false woman —such, oh! such

Are lutes too frail and maids too willing;
Every hand's licentious touch

Can learn to wake their wildest thrilling ! And when that thrill is most awake,

And when you think heaven's joys await you, The nymph will change, the chord will break

Oh Love! oh Music ! how I hate you !

No more to Tempé's distant vale

In holy musings shall we roam,
Through summer's glow, and winter's gale,

To bear the mystic chaplets home!'
'Twas then my soul's expanding zeal,

By nature warm'd and led by thee,
In every breeze was taught to feel

The breathings of a deity!
Guide of my heart! to memory true,

Thy looks, thy words, are still my ows
I see thee raising from the dew,

Some laurel, by the wind o'erthrown,
And hear thee say, “This humble bough

Was planted for a doom divine,
And, though it weep in languor now,

Shall flourish on the Delphic shrine !
Thus, in the vale of earthly sense,

Though sunk awhile the spirit lies,
A viewless hand shall cull it thence,

To bloom immortal in the skies !"

TO MRS.

ON SOME CALUMNTES AGAINST HER CHARACTER.

Is not thy mind a gentle mind?
Is not thy heart a heart refin'd?
Hast thou not every blameless grace,
That man should love, or Heaven can trače?
And oh! art thou a shrine for Sin
To hold her hateful worship in ?
No, no, be happy-dry that tear-
Though some thy heart hath harbour'd near
May now repay its love with blame!
Though man, who ought to shield thy fame,
Ungenerous man, be first to wound thee!
Though the whole world may freeze around thee.
Oh! thou'lt be like that lucid tear,
Which, bright, within the crystal's sphere
In liquid purity was found,
Though all had grown congeal'd around;
Floating in frost, it mock'd the chill,
Was pure, was soft, was brilliant still.

Thy words had such a melting flow,

And spoke of truth so sweetly well, They dropp'd like heaven's serenest snow,

And all was brightness where they fell!
Fond soother of my infant tear!

Fond sharer of my infant joy!
Is not thy shade still lingering here?

Am I not still thy soul's employ?
And oh! as oft, at close of day

When, meeting on the sacred mount,
Our nymphs awak'd the choral lay,

And danc'd around Cassotis' fount;
As then, 'twas all thy wish and care,

That mine should be the simplest mien,
My lyre and voice the sweetest there,

My foot the lightest o’er the green ;
So still, each little grace to mould,

Around my form thine eyes are shed,
Arranging every snowy fold,

And guiding every mazy tread!
And, when I lead the hymning choir,

Thy spirit still, unseen and free,
Hovers between my lip and lyre,

And weds them into harmony !
Flow, Plistus, flow! thy murmuring wave

Shall never drop its silvery tear
Upon so pure, so blest a grave,

To memory so divinely dear!

RINGS AND SEALS.

Ωσπερ σφραγιδες τα φιλη ματα. . HYMN OF A VIRGIN OF DELPHI,

Achilles Tatius, Lib. ii. AT THE TOMB OF HER MOTHER. OH! lost, for ever lost 10 more

“Go!" said the angry weeping maid, Shall Vesper light our dewy way

"The charm is broken !-once betray'd, Along the rocks of Crissa's shore, To hymn the fading fires of day!

a rarity as this that I saw at Vendôme in France, which they there pretend is a tear that our Saviour shed over La.

zarus, and was gathered up by an angel, who put it in a little 1 This alludes to a curious gem, upon which Claudian crystal viul and made a present of it to Mary Magdalene." has left us some pointless epigrams. It was a drop of pure - Addison's Remarks on several Parts of Italy. water inclosed within a piece of crystal. See Claudian. 1 The laurel, for the common uses of the temple, for Epigram. de Chrystallo cui aqua inerat. Addison men- adorning the altars and sweeping the pavement, was suplions a curiosity of this kind at Milan. He says, “It is such plied by a trce near the fountain of Castalia. But upon au

2

Oh! never can my heart rely

“Oh! why should fairy Fancy keep On word or look, on oath or sigh.

These wonders for herself alone?"
Take back the gifts, so sweetly given,

I knew not then that Fate had lent
With promis'd faith and vows to Heaven;
That little ring, which, night and morn,

Such tones to one of mortal birth;
With wedded truth my hand hath worn;

I knew not then that Heaven had sent That seal which oft, in moment blest,

A voice, a form like thine on earth! Thou hast upon my lip imprest,

And yet, in all that flowery maze And sworn its dewy spring should be

Through which my life has lov'd to tread, A fountain seal'd' for only thee!

When I have heard the sweetest lays Take, take them back, the gift and vow,

From lips of dearest lustre shed; All sullied, lost, and hateful, now!"

When I have felt the warbled word I took the ring--the seal I took,

From Beauty's mouth of perfume sighing, While oh! her every tear and look

Sweet as music's hallow'd bird
Were such as angels look and shed,

Upon a rose’s bosom lying !
When man is by the world misled!
Gently I whisper'd, “ Fanny, dear!

Though form and song at once combin'd
Not half thy lovers gifts are here:

Their loveliest bloom and softest thrill, Say, where are all the seals he gave

My heart hath sigh'd, my heart hath pin'd To every ringlet's jetty wave,

For something softer, lovelier still ! And where is every one he printed

Oh! I have found it all, at last, Upon that lip, so ruby-tinted

In thee, thou sweetest, living lyre, Seals of the purest gem of bliss,

Through which the soul hath ever pass'd Oh! richer, softer, far than this !

Its harmonizing breath of fire! "And then the ring—my love! recall

All that my best and wildest dream, How many rings delicious all,

In Fancy's hour, could hear or see His arms around that neck hath twisted,

Of Music's sigh or Beauty's beam
Twining warmer far than this did!

Are realiz'd, at once, in thee!
Where are they all, so sweet, so many
Oh! dearest, give back all, if any."
While thus I murmur'd, trembling too

LINES,
Lest all the nymph had vow'd was true,
I saw a smile relenting rise

WRITTEN AT THE COHOS, OR FALLS OF 'Mid the moist azure of her eyes,

THE MOHAWK RIVER.
Like day-light o'er a sea of blue,
While yet the air is dim with dew!

Gia cra in loco ove s'udia 'l rimbombo
She let her cheek repose on mine,

Dell'acqua.

Dante.
She let my arms around her twine-
Oh! who can tell the bliss one feels
In thus exchanging rings and seals!

From rise of morn till set of sun,
I've seen the mighty Mohawk run,

And as I mark'd the woods of pine
TO MISS SUSAN B-CKF-D.

Along his mirror darkly shine,

Like tall and gloomy forms that pass
HER SINGING.

Before the wizard's midnight glass ;
I MORE than once have heard, at night,

And as I view'd the hurrying pace A song, like those thy lips have given,

With which he ran his turbid race, And it was sung by shapes of light,

Rushing, alike untir'd and wild, Who seem'd, like thee, to breathe of heaven! Through shades that frown'd, and flowers that

smil'd, But this was all a dream of sleep,

Flying by every green recess And I have said, when morning shone,

That woo'd him to its calm caress,

Yet, sometimes turning with the wind, mportant occasions, they sent to Teipe for their laurel. We tiod in Pausanias, that this valloy supplied the branches, As if to leave one look behind ! of which the temple was originally consiructed; And Plutarch says, in his Dialogue on Music, “The youth who brings the Tempic laurel to Delphi is always attended by a 1 There is a dreary and savage character in the country player on the flute." ALAZ Hemväxo TW **Tánowo Coutonuidi inmediately above these Falls, which is much more in harτην Τιμπιαην δαφνην εις Δελ.φες παρομαρτει αυλη της. mony with the wildness of such a scene, than the cultivated

1" There are gardens, supposed to be those of King Solo- lands in the neighbourhood of Niagara. See the drawing mon, in the neighbourhood of Bethlehem. The friars show of them in Mr. Weld's book. According to him, the peru fountain which they say is the sealed fountain,' to which pendicular height of the Cohos Falls is lify feet; but the the holy spouse in the Canticles is compared ; and they pre- Marquis de Chastellux makes it seventy-six. tend a tradition, that Solomon shut up these springs and put The fine rainbow, which is continually forming and disdis signet upon the door, to keep them for his own drinking." solving as the spray rises into the light of the sun, is per- Maundrell's Travels. See also the Noles to Mr. Good's haps the most interesting beauty which these wonderful Translation of the Song of Solomon.

cataracts exhibit.

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