And now the priest has joined their | And all the night the demon lay

hands,

The hours of love advance!

Rupert almost forgets to think

Upon the morn's mischance.

Within the bed fair Isabel

In blushing sweetness lay,

Cold-chilling by his side,

And strained him with such deadly

grasp,

He thought he should have died!

But when the dawn of day was near,
The horrid phantom fled,

Like flowers half-opened by the dawn, And left the affrighted youth to weep

And waiting for the day.

And Rupert, by her lovely side,
In youthful beauty glows,
Like Phoebus, when he bends to cast
His beams upon a rose !

And here my song should leave them
both,

Nor let the rest be told,
But for the horrid, horrid tale
It yet has to unfold!

Soon Rupert, 'twixt his bride and him,
A death-cold carcase found;
He saw it not, but thought he felt

Its arms embrace him round.

He started up, and then returned,

But found the phantom still;
In vain he shrunk, it clipped him round,
With damp and deadly chill!

And when he bent, the earthy lips

A kiss of horror gave;

"Twas like the smell from charnel vaults,
Or from the mouldering grave!
Ill-fated Rupert, wild and loud
Thou criedst to thy wife,

'Oh! save me from this horrid fiend,
My Isabel! my life!'

But Isabel had nothing seen,

She looked around in vain; And much she mourned the mad conceit

That racked her Rupert's brain. At length from this invisible

These words to Rupert came; (Oh God! while he did hear the words, What terrors shook his frame !) 'Husband! husband! I've the ring Thou gav'st to-day to me; And thou'rt to me for ever wed, As I am wed to thee !'

By Isabel in bed.

All, all that day a gloomy cloud
Was seen on Rupert's brows;
Fair Isabel was likewise sad,

But strove to cheer her spouse.

And, as the day advanced, he thought
Of coming night with fear:
Ah! that he must with terror view
The bed that should be dear!

At length the second night arrived

Again their couch they pressed;
Poor Rupert hoped that all was o'er,
And looked for love and rest.

But oh! when midnight came, again
The fiend was at his side,
And, as it strained him in its grasp,
With howl exulting cried,—

'Husband! husband! I've the ring,
The ring thou gav'st to me;
And thou'rt to me for ever wed,
As I am wed to thee !'

In agony of wild despair,

He started from the bed;
And thus to his bewildered wife
The trembling Rupert said:
'Oh Isabel! dost thou not see
A shape of horrors here,
That strains me to the deadly kiss,
And keeps me from my dear?'

'No, no, my love! my Rupert, I

No shape of horrors see;
And much I mourn the phantasy

That keeps my dear from me!'

This night, just like the night before,
In terrors passed away,
Nor did the demon vanish thence
Before the dawn of day.

SONG.

THINK on that look of humid ray,
Which for a moment mixed with mine,
And for that moment seemed to say,
'I dare not, or I would be thine!'

Think, think on every smile and glance,
On all thou hast to charm and move;
And then forgive my bosom's trance,
And tell me 'tis not sin to love!

Oh not to love thee were the sin;
For sure, if Heaven's decrees be done,
Thou, thou art destined still to win,
As I was destined to be wor.

SONG.

FLY from the world, O Bessy! to me,
Thou'lt never find any sincerer ;
I'll give up the world, O Bessy! for thee,
I can never meet any that's dearer !
Then tell me no more, with a tear and a sigh,
That our loves will be censured by many;
All, all have their follies, and who will deny
That ours is the sweetest of any !

When your lip has met mine, in abandonment sweet, Have we felt as if virtue forbid it ?

Have we felt as if Heaven denied them to meet ?No, rather 'twas Heaven that did it!

So innocent, love! is the pleasure we sip,

So little of guilt is there in it,

That I wish all my errors were lodged on your lip,
And I'd kiss them away in a minute!

Then come to your lover, oh! fly to his shed,
From a world which I know thou despisest;
And slumber will hover as light on our bed,
As e'er on the couch of the wisest !

And when o'er our pillow the tempest is driven,
And thou, pretty innocent! fearest,

I'll tell thee, it is not the chiding of Heaven,
'Tis only our lullaby, dearest !

And, oh! when we lie on our death-bed, my love!
Looking back on the scene of our errors,

A sigh from my Bessy shall plead them above,
And Death be disarmed of his terrors !

And each to the other embracing will say,
'Farewell! let us hope we're forgiven!'
Thy last fading glance will illumine the way,
And a kiss be our passport to heaven!

THE SHRINE.

TO.

My fates had destined me to rove
A long, long pilgrimage of love;
And many an altar on my way
Has lured my pious steps to stay;
For, if the saint was young and fair,
I turned and sung my vespers there.
This, from a youthful pilgrim's fire,
Is what your pretty saints require:
To pass, nor tell a single bead,
With them would be profane indeed!-
But, trust me, all this young devotion,
Was but to keep my zeal in motion;
And, every humbler altar past,

I now have reached THE SHRINE at last!

THE CATALOGUE.

'COME, tell me,' says Rosa, as, kissing and kissed, One day she reclined on my breast;

'Come, tell me the number, repeat me the list
Of the nymphs you have loved and caressed.'
Oh, Rosa! 'twas only my fancy that roved,
My heart at the moment was free;

But I'll tell thee, my girl, how many I've loved,
And the number shall finish with thee !

My tutor was Kitty; in infancy wild
She taught me the way to be blest;

She taught me to love her, I loved like a child,
But Kitty could fancy the rest.

This lesson of dear and enrapturing lore

I have never forgot, I allow;

I have had it by rote very often before,

But never by heart until now!

Pretty Martha was next, and my soul was all flame,

But my head was so full of romance,

That I fancied her into some chivalry dame,
And I was her knight of the lance!

But Martha was not of this fanciful school,
And she laughed at her poor little knight;
While I thought her a goddess, she thought me a feol,
And I'll swear she was most in the right.

My soul was now calm, till, by Cloris's looks,
Again I was tempted to rove;

But Cloris, I found, was so learned in books,
That she gave me more logic than love!
So I left this young Sappho, and hastened to fly
To those sweeter logicians in bliss,

Who argue the point with a soul-telling eyc,
And convince us at once with a kiss !

Oh! Susan was then all the world unto me,
But Susan was piously given;

And the worst of it was, we could never agree
On the road that was shortest to heaven!
'Oh, Susan' I've said, in the moments of mirth,
'What's devotion to thee or to me?

I devoutly believe there's a heaven on earth,
And believe that that heaven's in thee!'

ΤΟ

REMEMBER him thou leav'st behind,
Whose heart is warmly bound to thee,
Close as the tenderest links can bind
A heart as warm as heart can be.

Oh! I had long in freedom roved,

Though many seemed my soul to share ;
'Twas passion when I thought I loved,
'Twas fancy when I thought them fair.

E'en she, my Muse's early theme,

Beguiled me only while she warmed;
'Twas young desire that fed the dream,
And reason broke what passion formed.

But thou-ah! better had it been
If I had still in freedom roved,

If I had ne'er thy beauties seen,

For then I never should have loved!

Then all the pain which lovers feel

Had never to my heart been known;
But, ah! the joys which lovers steal,
Should they have ever been my own?