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The present moments, and regret the past ; Deprived of every joy I valued most, My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost, Call not this gloom I wear, this anxious mien, The dull effect of humour or of spleen ! Still, still I mourn, with each returning day, Him snatched by fate in early youth away; And her through tedious years of doubt and pain, Fixed in her choice and faithful—but in vain ! Whose eye ne'er yet refused the wretch a tear; O prone to pity, generous, and sincere, Whose heart the real claim of friendship knows, Nor thinks a lover's are but fancied woes ; See me—ere yet my destined course half done, Cast forth a wanderer on a world unknown ! See me neglected on the world's rude coast, Each dear companion of my voyage lost ! Nor ask why clouds of sorrow shake my brow, And ready tears wait only leave to flow! Wby all that soothes a heart from anguish free, All that delights the happy-palls with me!




T cave,

magic lyre, whose fascinating sound

Drew rocks and trees, and forms uncouth around,

And bade wild Hebrus hush his listening wave;

No more the undulating warblings flow
O'er Thracian wilds of everlasting snow !
Awake to sweeter sounds, thou magic lyre,

And paint a lover's bliss—a lover's pain !
Far nobler triumphs now thy notes inspire,

For see, Eurydice attends thy strain ;
Her smile, a prize beyond the conjurer's aim,
Superior to the cancelled breath of fame.
From her sweet brow to chase the gloom of care,

To check the tear that dims the beaming eye,
To bid her heart the rising sigh forbear,

And flush her orient cheek with brighter joy,
In that dear breast soft sympathy to move,
And touch the springs of rapture and of love.
Ah me! how long bewildered and astray,

Lost and benighted, did my footsteps rové,
Till sent by heaven to cheer my pathless ray,

A star arose—the radiant star of love.
The god propitious joined our willing hands,
And Hymen wreathed us in his rosy bands.
Yet not the beaming eye, or placid brow,

Or golden tresses, hid the subtle dart;
To charms superior far than those I bow,

And nobler worth enslaves my vanquished heart, The beauty, elegance, and grace combined, Which beam transcendent from that angel mind. While vulgar passions, meteors of a day,

Expire before the chilling blasts of age, Our holy flame with pure and steady ray,

Its glooms shall brighten, and its pangs assuage ; By Virtue (sacred vestal) fed, shall shine, Aud warm our fainting souls with energy divine.


more shall hapless Celia's ears

Be fluttered with the cries
Of lovers drowned in floods of tears,

Or murdered by her eyes ;
No serenades to break her rest,
Nor songs her slumbers to molest,

With my fa, la, la.

The fragrant flowers that once would bloom

And flourish in her hair,
Since she no longer breathes perfume

Their odours to repair,
Must fade, alas ! and wither now,
As placed on any common brow,

With my fa, la, la.

Her lip, so winning and so meek,

No longer has its charms;
As well she might by whistling seek

To lure us to her arms ;
Affected once, 'tis real now,
As her forsaken gums may show,

With my fa, la, la.

The down that on her chin so smooth

So lovely once appeared,
That, too, has left her with her youth,

Or sprouts into a beard ;
As fields, so green when newly sown,
With stubble stiff are overgrown,

With my fa, la, la.

Then, Celia, leave your apish tricks,

And change your girlish airs,
For ombre, snuff, and politics,

Those joys that suit your years ;
No patches can lost youth recall,
Nor whitewash prop a tumbling wall,

With my fa, la, la.


"HE sparkling eye, the mantling cheek,

How seldom we behold in one ! Glossy locks, and brow serene, Venus' smiles, Diana's mien,

All meet in you, and you alone. Beauty, like other powers, maintains Her empire, and by union reigns ;

Each single feature faintly warms; But where at once we view displayed Unblemished grace, the perfect maid

Our eyes, our ears, our heart alarms. So when on earth the god of day Obliquely sheds his tempered ray,

Through convex orbs the beams transmit, The beams that gently warmed before, Collected, gently warm no more,

But glow with more prevailing heat.


N the green margin of the brook

Despairing Phyllida reclined, Whilst every sigh, and every look,

Declared anguish of her mind.

Am I less lovely then? (she cries,

And in the waves her form surveyed);

I see my languid eyes,
My faded cheek, my colour fled ;
These eyes no more like lightning pierced,
These cheeks grew pale, when Damon first

His Phyllida betrayed.

The rose he in his bosom wore,

How oft upon my breast was seen !
And when I kissed drooping flower,

Behold, he cries, it blooms again !
The wreaths that bound my braided hair,
Himself next day was proud to wear

At church, or on the green.

While thus sad Phyllida lamented,

Chance brought unlucky Thyrsis on : Unwillingly the nymph consented,

But Damon first the cheat begun. She wiped the fallen tears away, Then sighed and blushed, as who should say,

Ah ! Thyrsis, I am won.

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