Then, only then, can heaven decree,
That you should live for only me,

Or I for you, as night and morn

We've swearing kiss'd, and kissing sworn!

And now, my gentle hints to clear,
For once, I'll tell you truth, my dear!
Whenever you may chance to meet
A loving youth, whose love is sweet,
Long as you're false, and he believes you,
Long as you trust, and he deceives you,
So long the blissful bond endures;
And while he lies, his heart is yours:
But oh! you've wholly lost the youth,
The instant that he tells you truth!

WHEN I LOV'D YOU."

To..

WHEN I lov'd you, I can't but allow
I had many an exquisite minute;
But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it!
Thus, whether we're on or we're off,
Some witchery seems to await you;
To love you is pleasant enough,

And oh! 'tis delicious to hate you!

WELL-PEACE TO THY HEART.

WELL-peace to thy heart, though another's it be,

And health to thy cheek, though it bloom not. for me!

To-morrow, I sail for those cinnamon groves,*

* When I wrote these lines, I had some idea of leaving Bermuda, and visiting the West India islands.

Pinkerton has said "that a good history and description of the Bermudas might afford a pleasing addition to the geographical library;" but there certainly are not materials for such a work. The island, since the time of its discovery, has experienced so very few vicissitudes, the people have been so indolent, and their trade so limited, there is but little which the historian could amplify into importance; and, with respect to the natural productions of the country, the few which the inhabitants can be induced to cultivate are so common in the West Indies, that they have been described by every naturalists, who has written an account of those islands.

The women of Bermuda, though not generally handsome, have an affectionate languor in their look and manner, which is always interesting. What the French imply, by their epithet aimante, seems very much the character of the Bermudian girls-that predisposition to loving, which, without being awakened by any particular object, diffuses itself through the general manner, in a tone of tenderness, which nev. er fails to fascinate. The men of the island, I confess, are not very civilized; and the old philosophers who imagined that, after this life, men would be changed into mules, and women into turtle-doves, would find the metamorphosis in some degree anticipated at Bermuda.

Where nightly the ghost of the Caribee roves; And, far from thine eye, oh! perhaps, I may yet Its seduction forgive, and its splendour forget? Farewell to Bermuda,* and long may the bloom Of the lemon and myrtle its valleys perfume; May spring to eternity hallow the shade,

Where Ariel has warbled, and Waller has stray'd!

And thou-when, at dawn, thou shalt happer

to roam

Through the lime-covered alley that leads to thy

home,

Where oft, when the dance and the revel were done,

And the stars were beginning to fade in the sun, I have led thee along, and have told by the way, What my heart all the night had been burning to say

Oh! think of the past-give a sigh to those times,

And a blessing for me to that alley of limes!

* The inhabitants pronounce the name as if t were written Bermooda. See the commentators on the words "still vex'd Bermoothes," in the Tempest. I wonder it did not occur to some of those all-reading gentlemen, that, possibly the discoverer of this "Island of hogs and devils" might have been no less a personage than the great John Bermudez, who about the same period (the beginning of the sixteenth century) was sent patriarch of the Latin church at Ethiopia, and has left us most wonderful stories of the Amazons and the griffins which he encountered. Travels of the Jesuits, Vol. I. I am afraid, however, it would take the patriarch rather too much out of his way.

THE STEERSMAN'S SONG.

RITTEN ABOARD THE BOSTON FRIGATE, 28TH APRIL.*

HEN freshly blows the northern gale,
And under courses snug we fly;
When brighter breezes swell the sail,
And royals proudly sweep the sky;
'Longside the wheel, unwearied still
I stand, and as my watchful eye
Doth mark the needle's faithful thrill,
I think of her I love, and cry,

Port, my boy! port.

When calms delay, or breezes blow
Right from the point we wish to steer;
When by the wind close-haul'd we go,
And strive in vain the port to near!
I think 'tis thus the fates defer

My bliss with one that's far away,
And while remembrance springs to her,
I watch the sails, and sighing, say,
Thus, my boy! thus.

*I left Bermuda in the Boston, about the middle of April, in company with the Cambrian and Leana, aboard the latter of which was the Admiral, Sir Andrew Mitchell, who divides his year between Halifax and Bermuda, and is the very soul of society and good fellowship to both. We separated in a few days, and the Boston, after a short cruise proceeded to New-York.

But see, the wind draws kindly aft,
All hands are up, the yards to square,
And now the floating stu'n-sails waft

Our stately ship through waves and air.
Oh! then I think that yet for me

Some breeze of fortune thus may spring, Some breeze to waft me, love, to thee! And in that hope I smiling sing, Steady, boy! so.

GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE.

AIR-"The Maid of the Valley."

Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me.
When the praise thou meetest;
To thine ear is sweetest,

Oh! then remember me.
Other arms may press thee,
Dearer friends caress thee,
All the joys that bless thee,
Sweeter far may be ;

But when friends are nearest,
And when joys are dearest,
Oh! then remember me.

When, at eve, thou rovest,
By the star thou lovest,

Oh! then remember me.
Think, when home returning,