ΤΟ

I.

WELCOME, dear Heart, and a most kind good

morrow;

The day is gloomy, but our looks shall shine:Flowers I have none to give thee, but I borrow Their sweetness in a verse to speak for thine.

II.

Here are red roses, gather'd at thy cheeks,
The white were all too happy to look white:
For love the rose, for faith the lily speaks;
It withers in false hands, but here 'tis bright!

III.

Dost love sweet Hyacinth? Its scented leaf Curls manifold,-all love's delights blow double: 'Tis said this flow'ret is inscribed with grief,— But let that hint of a forgotten trouble.

IV.

I pluck'd the Primrose at night's dewy noon; Like Hope, it show'd its blossoms in the night

'Twas, like Endymion, watching for the Moon! And here are sunflowers, amorous of light!

V.

These golden Buttercups are April's seal,-
The Daisy stars her constellations be:
These grew so lowly, I was forced to kneel,
Therefore I pluck no Daisies but for thee!

Here's Daisies for the morn, Primrose for gloom,
Pansies and Roses for the noontide hours:-
A wight once made a dial of their bloom,—
So may thy life be measured out by flowers!

ΤΟ

COMPOSED AT ROTTERDAM.

I GAZE upon a city,-
A city new and strange,
Down many a watery vista
My fancy takes a range;
From side to side I saunter,
And wonder where I am;
And can you be in England,
And I at Rotterdam!

Before me lie dark waters
In broad canals and deep,
Whereon the silver moonbeams
Sleep, restless in their sleep;
A sort of vulgar Venice
Reminds me where I am;
Yes, yes, you are in England,
And I'm at Rotterdam.

Tall houses with quaint gables, Where frequent windows shine,

And quays that lead to bridges.
And trees in formal line,

And masts of spicy vessels
From western Surinam,

All tell me you're in England,
But I'm in Rotterdam.

Those sailors, how outlandish
The face and form of each!
They deal in foreign gestures,
And use a foreign speech;
A tongue not learn'd near Isis,
Or studied by the Cam,

Declares that you 're in England,
And I'm at Rotterdam.

And now across a market

My doubtful way I trace,

Where stands a solemn statue,

The Genius of the place;

And to the great Erasmus

I offer my salaam ;

Who tells me you're in England,

But I'm at Rotterdam.

The coffee-room is open-
I mingle in its crowd,-
The dominos are noisy-
The hookahs raise a cloud;
The flavour now of Fearon's,

That mingles with my dram,
Reminds me you're in England,
And I'm at Rotterdam.

Then here it goes, a bumper-
The toast it shall be mine,
In schiedam, or in sherry,
Tokay, or hock of Rhine;
It well deserves the brightest,

Where sunbeam ever swam-
"The Girl I love in England
I drink at Rotterdam!

March, 1835.