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Was ever witchery half so sweet !
A KISS A L'ANTIQUE. BEHOLD, my love, the curious gem
Within this simple ring of gold; 'Tis hallowed by the touch of them
Who lived in classic hours of old. Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps,
Upon her hand this gem displayed, Nor thought that Time's eternal lapse
Should see it grace a lovelier maid. Look, darling, what a sweet design!
The more we gaze, it charms the more: Come,- closer bring that cheek to mine,"
Thou seest, it is a simple youth
By some enamoured nymph embracedLook, Nea love ! and say in sooth
Is not her hand most dearly placed? Upon his curled head behind
It seems in careless play to lie, Yet presses gently, half inclined
To bring his lip of nectar nigh! O happy maid ! too happy boy!
The one so fond and faintly'loth, The other yielding slow to joy
Oh rare indeed, but blissful both! Imagine, love, that I am he,
And just as warm as he is chilling; Imagine, too, that thou art she,
So may we try the graceful way
In which their gentle arms are twined, And thus, like her, my hand I lay
Upon thy wreathed hair behind : And thus I feel thee breathing sweet,
And thus our lips together meet,
And_thus I kiss thee--O my love!
.... Meßavorw ÉLKADEV, óri ároljevov évopalvel.
Aristot. Rhetor. lib, üi. cap. 4.
My soul hath e'er forgot ;
Which I remember not !
From that beguiling tongue
Like something heaven had sung !
All, all that haunts me som
The loved remembrance go!
Its faithful pulse decay,
Consumed in sweets away!
TO JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ.
'Twas thus, by the shade of a calabash tree,
Oh! say, do you thus, in the luminous hour
Last night, when we came from the calabash tree,
And oh! such a vision as haunted me then
Oh, magic of love ! unembellished by you, Has the garden a blush or the herbage a hue? Or blooms there a prospect in nature or art Like the vista that shines through the eye to the heart !
Alas! that a vision so happy should fade!
But see, through the harbour, in floating array,
LOVE AND REASON.
When hearts and Aowers are both in season,
One early dawn, but Love and Reason !
* A ship ready to sail for England,
Love told his dream of yester-night,
While Reason talked about the weather ; The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright,
And on they took their way together. The boy in many a gambol flew,
While Reason like a juno stalked, And from her portly figure threw
A lengthened shadow, as she walked. No wonder Love, as on they passed,
Should find that sunny morning chill, For still the shadow Reason cast
Fell on the boy, and cooled him still. In vain he tried his wings to warm,
Or find a pathway not so dim, For still the maid's gigantic form
Would pass between the sun and him ! " This must not be," said little Love
“The sun was made for more than you." So, turning through a myrtle grove,
He bid the portly nymph adieu ! Now gaily roves the laughing boy
O’er many a mead, by many a stream ; In every breeze inhaling joy,
And drinking bliss in every beam. From all the gardens, all the bowers,
He culled the many sweets they shaded, And ate the fruits and smelled the flowers,
Till taste was gone and odour faded ! But now the sun, in pomp of noon,
Looked blazing o'er the parched plains ; Alas! the boy grew languid soon,
And fever thrilled through all his veins ! The dew forsook his baby brow,
No more with vivid bloom he smiledOh! where was tranquil Reason now
To cast her shadow o'er the child ?
Beneath a green and aged palm
His foot at length for shelter turning, He saw the nymph reclining calm,
With brow as cool as his was burning!
“Oh! take me to that bosom cold,”
In murmurs at her feet he said ; And Reason oped her garment's fold,
And Aung it round his fevered head.
He felt her bosom's icy touch,
And soon it lulled his pulse to rest ; For ah ! the chill was quite too much,
And Love expired on Reason's breast !
While in these arms you lie,
From that beloved eye!
The path where many rove ;
Are quite enough for love !
Between your arms and mine?
Two loving arms entwine?
Along your temples curled,
All, all the worthless world!
My only worlds I see ;
May frown or smile for me !
There, as the listening statesman hung