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A TALE OF ROMANCE.
How strangely the order of destiny falls !
Had long been remember'd with awe and dismay; When a sunbeam was seen to glance over the calls,
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,
Oft, oft did she pause for the toll of the bell,
And heard but the breathings of night in the air ;
Long, long did she gaze on the watery swell, "Oh! when shall this horrible darkness disperse!"
And saw but the foam of the white billow there.
As she look'd at the light of the moon in the
She thought 'twas his helmet of silver she saw,
Poor Rose, on the cold dewy margent reclined,
There wept till the tear almost froze in her eye,
in the wind !
shade, 1 l walks o'er the flow'ns of the mountain and lawn. A form o'er the waters in majesty glide;
That wrinkle, when first I espied it
At once put my heart out of pain ;
Disturbid my ideas again.
Weep on, weep on,
1 This alludes to a curious gem, upon which Claudian has as this that I saw at Vendôm left us some very elaborate epigrams. It was a drop of pure pretend is a tear that our Savis water enclosed within a piece of crystal. See Claudian. Epi- gathered up by an angel, wh gram. “ de Crystallo cui aqua inerat." Addison mentions a and made a present of it to curiosity of this kind at Milan; and adds, “ It is such a rarity Remarks on several Parts of
IN ALLUSION TO SOME ILLIBERAL CRITICISM8.
Wey, let the stingless critic chide
My fates had destined me to rovo
all this young devotion
TO A LADY,
TO JULIA. Mocz me no more with Love's beguiling dream,
Haply the little simple page,
Which votive thus I've traced for thee, May now and then a look engage,
And steal one moment's thought for me
A dream, I find, illusory
One smile of friendship, nay, of cold esteem,
Par dearer were than passion's bland deceit!
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 wo, 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 eyo so gay,
If Julia's heart like mine is beating?
I oft have loved that sunny glow
Of gladness in her blue eye gleamingBut can the bosom bleed with wo,
While joy is in the glances beaming ?
In vain we fondly strive to trace
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 bo 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 !