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Thenwave thy leaves briber, thou Willow ofwoey-- .
I tell thee no rage in 'her looks could I see; 1 cannot, I will not believe it was so—
She was not, she could not be angry with me.
"For well did she know that my heart meant no wrong, It sunk at the thought but of giving her pain;
But trusted its task to a faultering tongue,
Which err'd from the feelings it could not explain.
Yet oh! if indeed I've offended the maid,
If Fanny my humMe monition refuse,
Fan gently her bosom, and plead my excuse.
And thou, stony Grot! in thy arch may'st preserve
And just let them fall at her feet—and they'll serve
Or, lest they unheeded should fall at her feet,
The next time I visit thy moss-covered seat,
So may'st thou, green Willow, for ages thus toss
And thou, stony Grotto, retain all thy moss,
While yet there's a poet to make thee his theme.—
Nay more—May my Fanny still give you her charms
Then, Grotto, be proud to support her white arms,
MINE be a cot beside the hill,
The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch,
Around my ivy'd porch shall spring
The village-church, among the trees,
THIS LIFE IS ALL CHEQUER D.
THIS life is all chequer'd with pleasures and woes,
That chase one another like waves of the deep, Each billow, as brightly or darkly it flows,
Reflecting our eyes, as they sparkle or weep. So closely our whims on our miseries tread,
That the laugh is awak'd, ere the tear can be dried; And as fast as the rain-drop of Pity is shed,
The goose-plumage of Folly can turn it aside. But pledge me the cup—if existence would cloy,
With hearts ever happy, and heads ever wise, Be ours the light grief, that is sister to joy,
And the short brilliant folly, that flashes and dies!
When Hylas was sent with his Urn to the fount,
Thro' fields full of sun-shine, with heart full of play, light rambled the boy over meadow and mount,
And neglected his task for the flowers on the way.
The fountain, that runs by philosophy's shrine,
And left their light urns all as empty as mine!
Her flowerets together, if Wisdom can see
From her fountain divine, 'tis sufficient for me.
WAKEN lards and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day, All the jolly chace is.here, With hawk ami horse, and hunting spear; Hounds are in their couples yelling, . Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily, mingle they, "Wakenlords and ladies gay."
Waken lords and ladies gay,
The mist has left the mountain gray,
Springlets in the dawn are streaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;
And foresters have busy been,
To track the buck in thicket green;
Now we come to chaunt our lay,
"Waken lords and ladies gay."
Waken lords and ladies gay,
Flee.t of foot, and tall of size,
We .can shew the marks he mader
Louder, louder chaunt the lay,
Waken lords and ladies gay!
Tell them youth and mirth and glee,
Run a course as well as we;
Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
Staunch as hound, and fleet as hawk;
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay.
LOVES YOUNG DREAM.
OH! the days are gone, when beauty bright
My heart's chain wove;
Tho,' the bard to purer fame may soar,
When wild youth's past;
To suiilc at last i .