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TO A BOY, WITH A WATCH.
WRITTEN FOR A FRIEND.
Is it not sweet, beloved youth,
To rove through Erudition's bowers,
And gather Fancy's brilliant flowers ?
To feel thy parents' hearts approving,
The dear, the endless debt of loving ?
With this idea toil is lighter ;
And makes the flowers of Fancy brighter!
May sometimes teach thy soul to ponder,
Should ever tempt that soul to wander;
Can ne'er be chain'd by man's endeavour;
While heaven and virtue bloom for ever!
TO A LADY, WITH SOME MANUSCRIPT POEMS.
ON LEAVING THE COUNTRY.
WHEN, casting many a look behind,
I leave the friends I cherish here-
But surely finding none so dear-
Which votive thus I've traced for thee,
And steal a moment's thought for me.
Whose hearts are not of gentle mould,
With feeling tear, my song behold.
With pity, never melt with love;
And all my loying lays reprove.
But if, perhaps, some gentler mind,
Which rather loves to praise thau blame,
And linger kindly on my name ;
By female lips my name be blest :
So sweetly as in woman's breast ?-
Her eye indulgent wanders o'er,
And bolder flights of fancy soar;
And friendship oft his numbers move;
His sweetest song was given to LOVE !
TO THE LARGE AND BEAUTIFUL
IN ALLUSION TO SOME PARTNERSHIP IN A LOTTERY SHARE.
Where in blanks and in prizes we deal ;
Should so long have remained in the wheel ?
To me such a ticket should roll,
For what could I do with the whole ?
IN ALLUSION TO SOME ILLIBERAL CRITICISMS.
Wuy, let the stingless critic chide
If some fond feeling maid like thee,
Though Fate, my girl, may bid us part,
Our souls it cannot, shall not, sever; The heart will seek its kindred heart,
And cling to it as close as ever. But must we, must we part indeed ?
Is all our dream of rapture over ?
To leave so dear, so fond a lover?
Perhaps she weeps our blisses fleeting :
If Julia's heart like mine is beating? I oft have loved the brilliant glow
Of rapture in her blue eye streamingBut can the bosom bleed with woe,
While joy is in the glances beaming ? 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 be 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 !
And do I then wonder that Julia deceives me,
When surely there's nothing in nature more common? She vows to be true, and while vowing she leaves me –
But could I expect any more from a woman? Oh, woman ! your heart is a pitiful treasure ;
And Mahomet's doctrine was not too severe, When he thought you were ly materials of pleasure,
And reason and thinking were out of your sphere. By your heart, when the fond sighing lover can win it,
He thinks that an age of anxiety's paid ;
If he live but a day, he'll be surely betrayed,
SWEET seducer ! blandly smiling ;
Why that little wanton blushing,
Grow to my lip, thou sacred kiss,
On which my soul's beloved swore
When she would mock my hopes no more;
In sighs at morn, and dreams at night,
Till thou'rt absolved by rapture's rite.
Sweet hours that are to make me blest,
Oh ! fly, like breezes, to the goal,
And let my love, my more than soul, Come panting to this fevered breast; And while in every glance I drink
The rich o'erflowings of her mind, Oh ! let her all impassioned sink,
In sweet abandonment resigned Blushing for all our struggles past, And murmuring, 'I am thine at last !'
A NIGHT THOUGHT.
Obscures yon bashful light,
Along the waste of night!
Obscure with malice keen
To live and die unseen!
Sic juvat perire.
How heavenly soft their slumbers lie !
To those who weep and long to die? Saw you the soft and grassy bed,
Where flowerets deck the green carth's breast ? 'Tis there I wish to lay my head,
'Tis there I wish to sleep at rest ! Oh ! let not tears embalm my tomb,
None but the dews by twilight given ! Oh! let not sighs disturb the gloom,
None but the whispering winds of Heaven !