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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 !
When lightly thou didst fly to meet
SONG. SWEET seducer! blandly smiling; Charming still, and still beguiling! Of I swore to love thee never, Yet I love thee more than ever! Why that little wanton blushing, Glancing eye, and bosom flushing ? Flushing warm, and wily glancingAll is lovely, all entrancing! Turn away those lips of blisses I am poison'd by thy kisses ! Yet, again, ah! turn them to me: Ruin 's sweet, when they undo me! Oh! be less, be less enchanting ; Let some little grace be wanting; Let my eyes, when I'm expiring, Gaze awhile without admiring!
EPIGRAM.' Your mother says, my little Venus, There's something not correct between us,
And you're in fault as much as I: Now, on my soul, my little Venus, I think 't would not be right between us,
To let your mother tell a lie !
TO JULIA THOUGH Fate, my girl, may bid us part,
Our souls it cannot, shall not, sever; The heart will seek its kindred heart,
And cling to it as close as ever. 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 weeps our blisses fleeting: But why is Julia's eye so gay,
If Julia's heart like mine is beating ? I oft have loved the brilliant glow
Of rapture in her blue eye streamingBut can the bosom bleed with woe,
While joy is in the glances beaming ?
A FRAGMENT. In vain we fondly strive to trace The soul's reflection in the face; In vain we dwell on lines and crosses, Crooked mouth, or short proboscis; Boobies have look'd as wise and bright As Plato or the Stagyrite : And many a sage and learned skull Has peep'd through windows dark and da Since then, though art do all it can, We ne'er can reach the inward man, Nor inward woman, from without (Though, ma'am, you smile, as if in doubt) I think 't were well if Nature could (And Nature could, if Nature would) Some pretty short descriptions writo, In tablets large, in black and white, Which she might hang about our throttles, Like labels upon physic-bottles. There we might read of all-But stayAs learned dialectics say, The argument most apt and ample For common use, is the example. For instance, then, if Nature's care Had not arranged those traits so fair, Which speak the soul of Lucy L-nd-n, This is the label she'd have pinn'd on.
Within this vase there lies enshrined The purest, brightest gem of mind'
1 I believe this epigram is originally French.-E.
Though Feeling's hand may sometimes throw But your lip, love! is only St. Peter,
And keeps but the key to your heaven!
TO JULIA. That Nature wrote a second label,
Mock me no more with love's beguiling dream, They 're her own words—at least suppose som A dream, I find, illusory as sweet : And boldly pin it on Pomposo.
One smile of friendship, nay of cold esteem,
Is dearer far than passion's bland deceit! When I composed the fustian brain
I've heard you oft eternal truth declare ; Of this redoubted Captain Vain,
Your heart was only mine, I once believed. I had at hand but few ingredients,
Ah! shall I say that all your vows were air ? And so was forced to use expedients.
And must I say, my hopes were all deceived ? I put therein some small discerning,
Vow, then, no longer that our souls are twined, A grain of sense, a grain of learning;
That all our joys are felt with mutual zeal: And when I saw the void behind,
Julia ! 't is pity, pity makes you kind; I fill'd it up with—froth and wind !
You know I love, and you would seem to feel. But shall I still go revel in those arms
On bliss in which affection takes no part?
No, no! farewell! you give me but your charms, TO MRS. M
When I had fondly thought you gave your heart Sweet lady! look not thus again :
Those little pouting smiles recalA maid remember'd now with pain, Who was my love, my life, my all!
IMPROMPTU. Oh! while this heart delirious took
Look in my eyes, my blushing fair ! Sweet poison from her thrilling eye,
Thou 'lt see thyself reflected there ; Thus would she pout, and lisp, and look,
And, as I gaze on thine, I see And I would hear, and gaze, and sigh!
Two little miniatures of me:
Thus in our looks some propagation lies,
For we make babies in each other's eyes !
Does the harp of Rosa slumber?
Once it breathed the sweetest number: Alas! I think the lovely wile
Never does a wilder song Again might steal my heart away.
Steal the breezy lyre along, And when the spell that stole my mind
When the wind, in odours dying, On lips so pure as thine I see,
Woos it with enamour'd sighing. I fear the heart which she resign'd
Does the harp of Rosa cease ?
Once it told a tale of peace
Then he was divinely blest!
Ah' but Rosa loves no more,
Therefore Rosa's song is o'er; And, as for myself, I can swear,
And her harp neglected lies; If I fancied that heaven were without it,
And her boy forgotten sighs. I'd scarce feel a wish to go there.
Silent harp-forgotten lover
Rosa's love and song are over ! If Mahomet would but receive me,
And Paradise be as he paints, I'm greatly afraid, God forgive me!
--sine me sit nulla Venus. Sulpicia. When Phillida gives me her lip, As my own little heaven of love?
Our hearts, my love, were doom'd to Oh, Phillis ! that kiss may be sweeter
The genuine twins of Sympathy : Than ever by mortal was given »
They live with one sensation :
But then 't is the creature luxuriant and fresh
That my passion with ecstacy owns : For indeed, my dear madam, though fond of the flesh
I never was partial to bones!
In joy or grief, but most in love,
And thrill with like vibration.
When mine no more is moving ! Since, now, to feel a joy alone Were worse to thee than feeling none :
Such sympathy in loving!
In dewy vernal weather-
"Now, love, we feel together ?"
ON THE DEATH OF A LADY Sweet spirit! if thy airy sleep
Nor sees my tears, nor hears my sighs, Oh! I will weep, in luxury weep,
Till the last heart's-drop fills mine eyes. But if thy sainted soul can feel,
And mingles in our misery,
Thou shalt not hear one sigh from me! The beam of morn was on the stream,
But sullen clouds the day deform: Thou wert, indeed, that morning beam,
And death, alas! that sullen storm. Thou wert not form'd for living here,
For thou wert kindred with the sky; Yet, yet we held thee all so dear,
We thought thou wert not form'd to die !
From yonder oak the ivy sever;
Yet now the oak is fresh as ever. Not so the widow'd ivy shines :
Torn from its dear and only stay, In drooping widowhood it pines,
And scatters all its blooms away! Thus, Julia, did our hearts entwine,
Till Fate disturb'd their tender ties : Thus gay indifference blooms in thine,
While mine, deserted, droops and dies !
TO JULIA. Sweet is the dream, divinely sweet, When absent souls in fancy meet! At midnight, love, I 'll think of thee! At midnight, love! oh think of me! Think that thou givest thy dearest kiss, And I will think I feel the bliss : Then, if thou blush, that blush be mine; And, if I weep, the tear be thine !
Yes, I think I once heard of an amorous youth
Who was caught in his grandmother's bed ; But I own I had ne'er such a liquorish tooth
As to wish to be there in his stead. 'T is for you, my dear madam, such conquests to
Such a poor virtuoso am I.
But the cracks were still plain to the eye:
But turn'd up my nose, and pass'd by! I perhaps might have sigh’d in your magical chain
When your lip had more freshness to deck it: But I'd hate even Dian herself in the wane,
She might then go to hell for a Hecate! No, no! when my heart's in these amorous faints,
Which is seldom, thank Heaven ! the case ;For, by reading the Fathers, and Lives of the Saints,
I keep up a stock of good grace :
WRITTEN IN THE BLANK LEAF OF A
LADY'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK.
Oh! sweet is the tear on that languishing smile,
That smile which is loveliest then ;
Sweet girl! will you never give o'er ? Thou shalt weep them again and again!
And what can I swear to you more?
“Good night! good night!"-and is it so ?
And must I from my Rosa go?
Oh, Rosa ! say“Good night!" once more,
Till the first glance of dawning light
Shall find us saying still, "Good night!"
And still “Good night!" my Rosa say-
But whisper still, " A minute stay;"
And I will stay, and every minute
Shall have an age of rapture in it.
We'll kiss and kiss in quick delight,
And murmur, while we kiss, "Good night!"
“Good night!" you 'll murmur with a sigh, And not miss a saint on my way.
And tell me it is time to fly:
And I will vow to kiss no more,
Yet kiss you closer than before;
Till slumber seal our weary sight-
And then, my love! my soul! "Good night!"
TO ANY PHILLIS OR CHLOE.
That wishing and the crime are one,
And Heaven punishes desires
As much as if the deed were done.
Are damn'd to all our heart's content;
Come then, at least we may enjoy
Some pleasure for our punishment !
WRITTEN DURING ILLNESS.
The wisest soul, by anguish torn,
Will soon unlearn the lore it knew;
The gem within will tarnish too.
But love's an essence of the soul,
Which sinks not with this chain of clayAt a meeting of rapture like this,
Which throbs beyond the chill control When the glooms of the past, and the sorrow of years, Of withering pain or pale decay. Have been paid by a moment of bliss ?
And surely when the touch of death
Dissolves the spirit's mortal ties,
Love still attends the soaring breath,
Oh, Rosa! when, to seek its sphere,
My soul shall leave this orb of men ! 1 I believe Mr. Little alluded here to a famous question That love it found so blissful here among the early schoolmen : "how many thousand angels
Shall be its best of blisses then! could dance upon the point of a very fine needle, without joatling one another ?" If he could have been thinking of
And, as in fabled dreams of old, the schools while he was writing this song, we cannot say " canit indoctum."
Some airy genius, child of time!
The stain that on thy virtue lies,
Wash'd by thy tears may yet decay ; As clouds that sully morning skies
May all be swept in showers away. Go, go—be innocent, and live
The tongues of men may wound thee sore But Heaven in pity can forgive,
And bids thee “Go, and sin no more !"
Presided o'er each star that rollid,
And track'd it through its path sublime ; So thou, fair planet, not unled,
Shalt through thy mortal orbit stray; Thy lover's shade, divinely wed,
Shall linger round thy wandering way. Let other spirits range the sky,
And brighten in the solar gem; I'll bask beneath that lucid eye,
Nor envy worlds of suns to them!
To mingle with a mortal frame,
Hide, hide from Heaven the unholy flame. No!—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.
in lacrymis verterat omne merum.
Tib. lib. i. eleg. 5.
Still the question I must party,
Still a wayward truant prove : Where I love, I must not marry,
Where I marry, cannot love. Were she fairest of creation,
With the least presuming mind; Learned without affectation;
Not deceitful, yet refined; Wise enough, but never rigid;
Gay, but not too lightly free, Chaste as snow, and yet not frigid;
Warm, yet satisfied with me : Were she all this, ten times over,
All that Heaven to earth allows, I should be too much her lover
Ever to become her spouse. Love will never bear enslaving;
Summer garments suit him best : Bliss itself is not worth having,
If we're by compulsion blest.
Press the grape, and let it pour
Illa nisi in lecto nusquam potuere docer.
Ovid. lib. II. eleg. 5.
ANACREONTIQUE. FRIEND of my soul! this goblet sip,
'T will chase that pensive tear; 'Tis not so sweet as woman's lip, But, oh! 't is more sincere. Like her delusive beam,
"T will steal away thy mind; But, like affection's dream,
It leaves no sting behind !
These flowers were cull'd at noon ;-
Its fragrance is not o'er;
The heart can bloom no more!
Give me, my love, that billing kiss
I taught you one delicious nigh, When, turning epicures in bliss,
We tried inventions of delight. Come, gently steal my lips along,
And let your lips in murmurs move,Ah, no !-again—that kiss was wrong,
How can you be so dull, my love? “Cease, cease !" the blushing girl replied
And in her milky arms she caught me “How can you thus your pupil chide;
You know 't was in the dark you taught me!
u Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more !"
St. John, chap. viii.
Oh, woman, if by simple wile
Thy soul has stray'd from honour's track, 'Tis mercy only can beguile,
By gentle ways, the wanderer back.
And in thy breath his pinion dips,
And faints upon thy sighing lips :