THE WATER-NYMPH APPEARING TO THE SHEPHERD.
'Twas pleasant; and I loosen'd from my neck
The pipe you gave me, and began to play.
Oh that I ne'er had learnt the tuneful art!
It always brings us enemies or love.
Well, I was playing, when above the waves
Some swimmer's head methought I saw ascend;
I, sitting still, survey'd it, with my pipe
Awkwardly held before my lips half-closed,-
Gebir! it was a Nymph! a Nymph divine!
I cannot wait describing how she came,
How I was sitting, how she first assum'd
The sailor; of what happen'd there remains
Enough to say, and too much to forget.
The sweet deceiver stept upon this bank
Before I was aware; for with surprise
Moments fly rapid as with love itself.
Stooping to tune afresh the hoarsen'd reed,
I heard a rustling, and where that arose
My glance first lighted on her nimble feet.
Her feet resembled those long shells explored
By him who to befriend his steed's dim sight
Would blow the pungent powder in the eye.
Was not of wonted woof nor vulgar art;
Her mantle show'd the yellow samphire-pod,
Her girdle the dove-colour'd wave serene.
"Shepherd," said she, "and will you wrestle now,
And with the sailor's hardier race engage?"
I was rejoiced to hear it, and contrived
How to keep up contention; could I fail,
By pressing not too strongly, yet to press?
"Whether a shepherd, as indeed you seem,
Or whether of the hardier race you boast,
I am not daunted; no, I will engage!"
"But first," said she, "what wager will you lay !"
"A sheep," I answered; "add whate'er you will."
"I cannot," she replied, "make that return ;
Our hided vessels in their pitchy round
Seldom, unless from rapine, hold a sheep.
But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue
Within, and they that lustre have imbibed
In the sun's palace-porch, where when unyoked
His chariot-wheel stands midway in the wave:
Shake one and it awakens; then apply
Its polisht lips to your attentive ear,
And it remembers its august abodes,
And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there.
And I have others given me by the nymphs,
Of sweeter sound than any pipe you have.
But we, by Neptune! for no pipe contend,-
This time a sheep I win, a pipe the next."
THE REPROACH OF THE BEREAVED.
Rod. Julian, thy gloomy soul still meditatesPlainly I see it-death to me: pursue
The dictates of thy leaders; let revenge
Have its full sway; let Barbary prevail,
And the pure creed her elders have embraced :
Those placid sages hold assassination
A most compendious supplement to law.
Jul. Thou knowest not the one, nor I the other. Torn hast thou from me all my soul held dear;
Her form, her voice, all hast thou banisht from me, Nor dare I, wretched as I am! recal
Those solaces of every grief erewhile.
I stand abased before insulting crime,
I falter like a criminal myself;
The hand that hurl'd thy chariot o'er its wheels,
That held thy steeds erect and motionless
As molten statues on some palace-gate,
Shakes as with palsied age before thee now.
Gone is the treasure of my heart for ever,
Without a father, mother, friend, or name.
Daughter of Julian!-Such was her delight-
Such was mine too! what pride more innocent,
What surely less deserving pangs like these,
Than springs from filial and parental love!
Debarr'd from every hope that issues forth
To meet the balmy breath of early life,
Her sadden'd days, all cold and colourless,
Will stretch before her their whole weary length
Amid the sameness of obscurity.
She wanted not seclusion to unveil
Her thoughts to heaven, cloister, nor midnight bell;
She found it in all places, at all hours:
While to assuage my labours, she indulged
A playfulness that shunn'd a mother's eye,
Still to avert my perils there arose
A piety that even from me retired.
SWEET nurslings of the vernal skies,
Bath'd in soft airs, and fed with dew,
What more than magic in you lies,
To fill the heart's fond view?
In childhood's sports, companions gay,
In sorrow, on Life's downward way,
How soothing! in our last decay,
Memorials prompt and true.
Relics ye are of Eden's bowers,
As pure, as fragrant, and as fair,
As when ye crown'd the sunshine hours
Of happy wanderers there.
Fall'n all beside the world of life,
How is it stain'd with fear and strife!
In Reason's world what storms are rife,
What passions range and glare!
But cheerful and unchang'd the while
Your first and perfect form ye show,
The same that won Eve's matron smile
In the world's opening glow.
The stars of heaven a course are taught
Too high above our human thought;
Ye may be found if ye are sought,
And as we gaze, we know.
Ye dwell beside our paths and homes,
Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow
And guilty man, where'er he roams,
Your innocent mirth may borrow.
The birds of air before us fleet,
They cannot brook our shame to meet-
But we may taste your solace sweet,
And come again to-morrow.
Ye fearless in your nests abide
Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise,
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