CLXXXI.

FAIR INES.

SAW ye not fair Ines?
She's gone into the west,

To dazzle when the sun is down,
And rob the world of rest:

She took our daylight with her,
The smiles that we love best,

With morning blushes on her cheek,

And pearls upon her breast.

O turn again, fair Ines,

Before the fall of night,

For fear the moon should shine alone,

And stars unrivalled bright;

And blessed will the lover be

That walks beneath their light,

And breathes the love against thy cheek

I dare not even write !

Would I had been, fair Ines,
That gallant cavalier,

Who rode so gaily by thy side,

And whispered thee so near!

Were there no bonny dames at home,

Or no true lovers here,

That he should cross the seas to win

The dearest of the dear?

I saw thee, lovely Ines,
Descend along the shore,

With bands of noble gentlemen,
And banners waved before;

And gentle youth and maidens gay,
And snowy plumes they wore ;—

It would have been a beauteous dream,
-If it had been no more!

Alas, alas! fair Ines,

She went away with song,

With Music waiting on her steps,

And shoutings of the throng;

But some were sad and felt no mirth,

But only Music's wrong,

In sounds that sang 'Farewell, farewell,

To her you've loved so long.'

Farewell, farewell, fair Ines,

That vessel never bore

So fair a lady on its deck,

Nor danced so light before,—

Alas! for pleasure on the sea,

And sorrow on the shore;

The smile that blest one lover's heart

Has broken many more!

Ο

CLXXXII.

WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED, 1802-1839.

TIME'S SONG.

'ER the level plains, where mountains greet me as I

go,

O'er the desert waste, where fountains at my bidding flow,
On the boundless beam by day, on the cloud by night,
I am riding hence away: who will chain my flight?

War his weary watch was keeping,-I have crushed his

spear;

Grief within her bower was weeping,-I have dried her

tear;

Pleasure caught a minute's hold,—then I hurried by,
Leaving all her banquet cold, and her goblet dry.

Power had won a throne of glory: where is now his fame? Genius said 'I live in story:' who hath heard his name? Love beneath a myrtle bough whispered 'Why so fast?' And the roses on his brow withered as I past.

I have heard the heifer lowing o'er the wild wave's bed; I have seen the billow flowing where the cattle fed; Where began my wanderings? Memory will not say ! Where will rest my weary wings? Science turns away!

CLXXXIII.

G

FUIMUS!

O to the once loved bowers;

Wreathe blushing roses for the lady's hair : Winter has been upon the leaves and flowers,They were!

Look for the domes of kings;

Lo! the owl's fortress, or the tiger's lair;
Oblivion sits beside them; mockery sings
They were !

Waken the minstrel's lute;

Bid the smooth pleader charm the listening air :
The chords are broken, and the lips are mute ;-
They were !

Visit the great and brave;

Worship the witcheries of the bright and fair.

Is not thy foot upon a new-made grave ?—
They were !