And very strange it seem'd to me, That, after having kiss'd so grand a Dame as Lady Trabigzanda, By any chance he Could take a fancy To a nymph, with such a copper front as And now, as through the gloom so dark, * * * And two lines more had just completed it : But, at the moment I repeated it, Our stage, (Which good Brissot with brains so critical And sage, Calleth the true "machine political")‡ *The lively and varying illumination, with which these fire-flies light up the woods at night, gives quite an idea of enchantment. "Puis ces mouches, se dévelloppant de l'obscurité de ces arbres et s'approchant de nous, nous les voyions sur les orangers voisins, qu'ils mettaient tout en feu, nous rendant la vue de leurs beaux fruits dores que la nuit avait ravie," etc. etc. See l'Historie des Antilles, Art. 2, chap. iv. liv. 1. For the Sonnet, see page 122. "The American stages are the true political carriages." Brissot's Travels, Letter 6th.-There is nothing more amusing than the philosophical singeries of these French travellers. In one of the letters of Claviere, prefixed to those of Brissot, upon their plan for establishing a republic of philosophers in some part of the western world, he intreats Brissot to be particular in choosing a place "where there are no musquetoes: forsooth, ne quid respubli ca detrimenti caperet! With all its load of uncles, scholars, nieces Together jumbled, Tumbled Good night!-my bed must be, Object to sleep with fellow-travellers # Saints protect the pretty quaker, TO A FRIEND. When next you see the black ey'd Caty, Say, that I hope, when winter's o'er * Among the West-Indian French at Norfolk, there are some very interesting Saint Domingo-girls, who, in the day, sell millinery, etc. and at night assemble in little cotillion parties, where they dance away the remembrance of their unfortunate country, and forget the miseries which "les amis des noirs" have brought upon them, I should not like the gloss were past, However frail, however light, "Twill do, at least, to wear at night : And so you'll tell our black-ey'd Caty——The loving, languid girl of Hayti! "Errare malo cum Platone, quam cum aliis recte ́sentire." Cicero. I would rather think wrongly with Plato, than rightly with any one else. FANNY, my love, we ne'er were sages, Whate'er the heartless world decree, Than live and die a saint with them! 1802. SONG. I NE'ER on that lip for a minute have gaz'd, And I've thought, as the dear little rubies you rais'd, How delicious 'twould be—if you'd let me ! VOL. II. 24 Then be not so angry for what I have done, Nor say that you've sworn to forget me; They were buds of temptation too routing to shun, And I thought that-you could not but let me! When your lip with a whisper came close to my cheek, Oh think how bewitching it met me! And plain as the eye of a Venus could speak, Your eye seem'd to say you would let me! Then forgive the transgression, and bid me remain, For in truth, if I go, you'll regret me ; Or, oh!-let me try the transgression again, And I'll do all you wish-will you let me ? FROM THE GREEK.* I've prest her bosom oft and oft; But as for more the maid's so coy, That saints or angels might have seen us; She's now for prudence, now for joy, Minerva half, and half a Venus. * Μαζας χερσιν εχω, στόματι, στομα, δε περι δειρήν Ούπω δ' αφρογενειαν όλεν έλον· αλλ' επικαμνων Paulus Silentiar{us When Tenus makes her bless me near, ON A BEAUTIFUL EAST-INDIAN. IF all the daughters of the sun Have loving looks and eyes of flame, Go, tell me not that she is one 'Twas from the wintry moon she came ! Oh! for a sunbeam, rich and warm To see thee burn-to faint and sigh To I KNOW that none can smile like thee, When we were left alone to-day, When every curious eye was fled, And all that love could look or say, We might have look'd we might have said: |