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From Sabine cask thy nectar pour,
To beguile the weary hour,

Cause the sparkling goblets shine,

With four

years old Falernian wine.

The cares of life, the pangs of love,
Leave them to the gods above,

Who calm the storm, and still the breeze,
Contending with the stormy seas,
When the dark cypress groves are still,
And the old beeches 'neath the hill.

What cares sit on to-morrow's brow,
Leave off to seek the sequel now;
What length of days to thee are given,
Contented wait the will of heaven.

Fond youth, disdain not love's advances,
When proffer'd thee, nor yet the dances,
Till crabbed age above thee hover,
And thy hey-days of youth are over.

Now Campus Martius, and the streets
Of ancient Rome (where each whisper meets
The ear, when evening shadows lower),
Are sought again at the appointed hour;
And the coy maid's light-hearted smile,
Her feign'd retreats too soon beguile.—
On her arms the bracelets feebly linger,
And the ring on her gently resisting finger.

TO THE ROSE.

ANACREON.-ODE V.

TO THE ROSE.

Το ροδον το των ερωτων.

COME let us mingle with the purpling vine,
The rose of love, the gay-leaf'd blushing rose;
Roses around our temples let us twine,
While laughing merrily, we quaff the wine,
Rich in rose odours till our bosom glows.

Ọ rose, with damask bosom! fairest flower!
Delightful to the gods!-of teeming spring,
Thou art the cherish'd nursling!-every bower,
Balm'd by thy breath, ten thousand odours bring.

Round his fair flowing locks, see Venus' child,
Wreathes roses, whilst the mazy dance is led,
Through the bright rosary by the urchin wild,

And comely graces-heaven is in their tread.

Crown me, great Bacchus, that my willing lyre,
May hymn aloud thy praises!-cover'd o'er
With rosy chaplets, all my soul's desire,

Shall centre round thy altars, while I pour

Glad songs to thee! and with the blooming maid,
Of the deep bosom, tread the dance's maze;
Through rose-bowers fondly tendril'd by the shade

Of mantling vines, we'll spend our summer days.

207

RETROSPECTIVE.

WHEN early scenes and other years,
Dim in the distant vale appears,

Fond thoughts will rush across the mind,
Which memory cannot leave behind;

These cling like ivy round the oak,

Aye fresh and green, though storms have broke
His pride, and branch'd the goodly tree,
A meditative sight to see.

All hail to thee! my native stream,
Parent of many a pleasant dream,
Where first I rudely strung my lyre,
And sung thy praise, with fond desire.
Within the rustling alder grove,
When day was spent, I loved to rove,
And trace the mellow moonlight scene,
Around thy daizy-skirted green.

Or range thy woodland banks along,
Where all around, the wakeful song
Of nature's choristers hath trill'd,
Till Vesperus their task had still'd,
And twilight's milder tints again
Were crimson'd o'er the peaceful scene;
Where-save the hum of water's fall,
Borne on the breeze, 'twas silence all.

Yes, scenes like these are ever fair,
And fresh upon the mind, though the air

SMILE O'ER THEM ALL.

We breath'd (when childhood's moody wiles
Were dimpling round our cheeks in smiles)
Hath lost that summer sunny glow,
That balm'd the valley's breast below,
And tinged each flower with richer dies,
That opened to the clear blue skies.

Yet fond remembrance paints anew
The scenes whence infancy first drew
These rude impressions, and matured
Their semblance into life, and pour'd
The living pictures as they rose,
Swelling with animation's throes,

On the heart's beating chords;-where placed,
They grew, and ne'er could be effaced.

209

SMILE O'ER THEM ALL.

IF to grieve be a folly, then smile if you can;
To indulge melancholy, unsettles the man;

Though the ills of the world like mists hover round thee,
When sorrows are fresh, or ingratitudes wound thee,

Smile o'er them all.

Smile if thou can, though thy eye's glaz'd and hollow,
Warm sunshine the raging tornado may follow;
Smile though thy blooming bride enters the tomb,
On the day thou would'st hail her the wife of thy home:
Smile o'er them all!

Smile though the world wide,-all should deride thee;
Thy bosom's thy own, then rebel should it chide thee;
Smile, though despair strew the path-way before thee,
Where ruin unfurls his pale banner o'er thee:
Smile o'er them all!

Thy smile may recall lingering hope in her flight,
When thy griefs court repose, ere she settles in night;
Kneel down at her shrine, if thy smiles she return, [spurn,
No more mourns the lorn heart,-even thee should she
Smile o'er them all!

Thus the Muse bade me sing, saying hope is asleep,
But soon will she waken, no more must thou weep;
I see a fair sunny scene brightening around,—
Sorrow's clouds are dispelling, hope's all-cheering sound
Whispers, smile o'er them all!

ARABELLA.

Extinctam, omnes crudeli funere, Arabellam,
Flebant.

SAD the mourners pace before,

Memento Mori's, fraught with woe;

Young Arabella blooms no more,
The pride of Gayfield-row.

Yon minute mourning-bell tolls loud;

Its warning, thrilling knell, I know,
Strikes terror through the gazing crowd,

Who mark death's pageant passing slow.

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