Oh! trust me, when I swear thee this, That little cage I would not part, Still, my beloved! still keep in mind, And though ungenial ties have bound That arm, which clasps thy bosom round, No, no! that heart is only mine, By ties all other ties above, For I have wed it at a shrine Where we have had no priest but Love! SONG. A CAPTIVE thus to thee, my girl, To wanton up and down my cage! When Death shall envy joy like this, And come to shade our sunny weather, Be our last sigh the sigh of bliss, And both our souls exhaled together! SONG. WHERE is the nymph, whose azure eye Was that her footstep on the hill-- No; 'twas the wind, and all is still: Come to me, love, I've wandered far, REUBEN AND ROSE. A TALE OF ROMANCE. THE darkness which hung upon Willumberg's walls Though the valleys were brightened by many a beam, 'Oh! when shall this horrible darkness disperse ?' And who was the bright star of chivalry then? Though Youth had scarce written his name on her page. Must Rose, then, from Reuben so fatally sever? She flew to the wizard-' And tell me, oh tell! Of the mouldering abbey, your Reuben shall rise!' Twice, thrice he repeated, Your Reuben shall rise !' Her hero could smile at the terrors of death, When he felt that he died for the sire of his Rose ! How strangely the order of destiny falls ! All, all but the soul of the maid was in light, There sorrow and terror lay gloomy and blank: Two days did she wander, and all the long night, In quest of her love cu the wide river's bank. Oft, oft did she pause for the toll of the bell, And she heard but the breathings of night in the air; Long, long did she gaze on the watery swell, And she saw but the foam of the white billow there. And often as midnight its veil would undraw, As she looked at the light of the moon in the stream, She thought 'twas his helmet of silver she saw, As the curl of the surge glittered high in the beam. And now the third night was begemming the sky, When,-hark! 'twas the bell that came deep in the wind. She startled, and saw, through the glimmering shade, She knew 'twas her love, though his cheek was decayed, Was this what the seer of the cave had foretold? Dim, dim through the phantom the moon shot a gleam; 'Twas Reuben, but ah! he was deathly and cold, And flitted away like the spell of a dream! Twice, thrice did he rise, and as often she thought From the bank to embrace him, but never, ah! never! SONG. ON THE BIRTHDAY OF MRS. WRITTEN IN IRELAND. Of all my happiest hours of joy,- Such hours as this I ne'er was given, Young Love himself looks down from heaven, Then, oh! my friends, this hour improve, Be thus with joy remembered ever! Oh! banish every thought to-night, We'll e'en for once forget the Union! And every union else we sigh for: Then, oh my friends, this hour improve, Be thus with joy remembered ever! In every eye around I mark The feelings of the heart o'erflowing, From every soul I catch the spark Of sympathy in friendship glowing! Oh! could such moments ever fly; Oh! that we ne'er were doomed to lose 'em, And all as bright as Charlotte's eye, And all as pure as Charlotte's bosom. But oh! my friends, this hour improve, For me-whate'er my span of Or live, as now, for mirth and loving- Wherever Fate may cast your rover; And drink a health to bliss that's over!' And thought I wafted on my wing With olive branch I bound thy head, Which was to bloom through all thy years; Nor yet did I forget to bind Love's roses, with his myrtle twined, Such was the wild but precious boon, How blest around thy steps I'd play! Thy life should softly stcal along, But all be sunshine, peace, and love! The wing of Time should never brush To bid its roses withering die; MORALITY. A FAMILIAR EPISTLE. ADDRESSED TO J. AT-NS-N, ESQ., M.R.I.A. THOUGH long at school and college, dozing Though long with those divines at school, Tell us, for Heaven or money's sake, |