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For I have thought of former hours,

When be who first thy soul possessid,
Like me awaked its witching powers,

Like me was loved, like me was blest!

Upon his name thy murmuring tongue

Perhaps hath all as sweetly dwelt;
For him that snowy lid hath hung

In ecstasy, as purely felt!

And many a rose-leaf, culla by Love,

To heal his lip when bees have stung it!
Come, tell me which the tie shall be
To bind thy gentle heart to me.
Yes, yes, I read that ready eye,

Which answers when the tongue is loth,
Thou likest the form of either tie,

Aod hold'st thy playful hands for both.
Ah!--if there were not something wrong,

The world would see them blended oft;
The Chain would make the Wreath so strong!

The Wreath would make the Chain so soft!
Then might the gold, the flow'rets be
Sweet fetters for my love and me!
But, Fanny, so unblest they twine,

That (Fleaven alone can tell the reason)
When mingled thus they cease to shine,

Or shine but for a transient season! Whether the Chain may press too much,

Or that the Wreath is slightly braided, Let but the gold the flow'rets touch,

And all their glow, their tints, are faded! Sweet Fanny, what would Rapture do,

When all her blooms had lost their grace?
Might she not steal a rose or two

From other wreaths, to fill their place!
Oh! better to be always free,
Than thus to bind my love to me.

For him-yet why the past recal

To wither blooms of present bliss?
Thou 'rt now my own, I clasp thee all,

And Heaven can grant no more than this!
Forgive me, dearest, oh! forgive;

I would be first, be sole to thee;
Thou shouldst but have begun to live

The hour that gave thy heart to me.

Thy book of life till then effaced,

Love should have kept that leaf alone,
On which he first so dearly traced

That thou wert, soul and all, my own!

EPISTLE VI.
TO LORD VISCOL'NT FORBES.

FROM TUE CITY OF WASHINGTON.

The timid girl now hung her acad,
And, as she turn'd an upward glance,

KAI MH OATMAZHİE MHT' EI MAKPOTEPAN I saw a doubt its twilight spread

ΓΕΓΡΑΦΑ ΤΗΝ ΕΠΙΣΤΟΛΗΝ, ΜΗΔ' ΕΙ ΤΙ Along her brow's divine expanse.

ΠΕΡΙΕΡΓΟΤΕΡΟΝ Η ΠΡΕΣΒΥΤΙΚΩΤΕΡΟΝ Just then the garland's dearest rose

EIPHKAMEN EATTH. Gave one of its seducing sighs

Isocrat. Epist. iv. Oh! who can ask how Fanny chose, That ever lookd in Fanny's eyes !

IF former times had never left a trace .« The wreath, my life, the wreath shall be

Of human frailty in their shadowy race,
The tie to bind my soul to thee!»

Nor o'er their pathway writien, as they ran,
One dark memorial of the crimes of man;
If every age, in new unconscious prime,

Rose, like a phænix, from the fires of time,
TO

To wing its way unguided and alone,
And hast thou mark'd the pensive shade,

The future smiling and the past unknown; That many a time obscures my brow,

Then ardent man would to himself be new, 'Midst all the blisses, darling maid,

Earth at his foot and heaven within his view; Which thou canst give, and only thou? Well might the novice hope, the sanguine scheme

Of full perfection prompt his daring dream, Oh! 't is not that I then forget

Ere cold Experience, with her veteran lore, The endearing charms that round me twine- Could tell him, fools had dream'd as much before! There never throbb'd a bosom yet

But tracing, as we do, through age and clime, Could feel their witchery, like mine!

The plans of virtue 'midst the deeds of crime,

The thinking follies and the reasoning rage When bashful on my bosom hid,

Of man, at once the idiot and the sage, And blushing to have felt so blest,

When still we see, through every varying frame Thou dost but lift thy languid lid,

Of arts and polity, bis course the same, Again to close it on my breast!

And know that ancient fools but died to make

A space on earth for modern fools to take ; Oh! these are minutes all thine own,

"Tis strange, how quickly we the past forget; Thine own to give, and mine to feel,

That Wisdom's self should not be tutor'd yet, Yet, even in them, my heart has known

Nor tire of watching for the monstrous birth The sigh to rise, the tear to steal.

of pure perfection 'midst the sons of earth!

every social

Ob! nothing but that soul which God has given, Already has the child of Gallia's school,
Could lead us thus to look on earth for licaven; The foul Philosophy that sins by rule,
O'er dross without to shed the flame within,

With all her train of reasoning, damning arts, And dream of virtue while we gaze on sin!

Beyot by brilliant heads or worthless hearts,

Like things that quicken after Nilus' flood, Even here, beside the proud Potowmac's stream, The venom d birth of sunshine and of mud ! Might sages

still
pursue the flattering theme

Already has she pour'd her poison here
Of days to come, when man shall conquer Fate, O'er every charm that makes existence dear,
Rise o'er the level of his mortal state,

Already blighted, with her blackening trace, Belie the monuments of frailty past,

The opening bloom of

grace, And stamp perfection on this world at last!

And all those courtesies that love to shoot « Here, » might they say, «shall Power's divided reign Round Virtue's stem, the flow'rets of her fruil! Evince that patriots lave not bled in vain. Here god-like Liberty's herculean youth,

Oh! were these errors but the wanton tide Cradled in peace, and nortured up by truth

of young luxuriance or unchasten'd pride; To full maturity of perve and mind,

The fervid follies and the faults of such Shall crush the giants that bestride mankind!' As wrongly fecl, because they feel too inuch ; llere shall Religion's pure and balıny drauglit,

Then might experience make the fever less, In form no more from cups of state be quaffd,

Nay, graft a virtue on each warm excess; But tlow for all, through nation, rank, and seci, But no; 't is licartless, speculative ill, Free as that heaven its tranquil waves retlect.

All youth's transgression with all age's chill, Around the columns of the public shrine

The apathy of wrong, the bosom's ice, Shall growing arts their gradual wreath entwine, A slow and cold stagnation into vice! Nor breathe corruption froin their flowering braid, Nor mine that fabric which they bloom to shade. Long has the love of gold, that meanest rage No longer here shall Justice bound her view,

And latest folly of man's sinking age, Or wrong the many, while she rights the few;

Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, But take her range through all the social frame, While nobler passions wage their heated strife, Pure and pervading as that vital flame

Comes skúlking lasi, with selbshness and fear, Which warms at once our best and meanest part, And dies, collectiog lumber in the rear! And thrills a hair while it expands a heart!»

Long has it palsied every grasping hand

And greedy spirit through this bartering land, Oh golden dream! what soul that loves to scan Turn'd life to traffic, set the demon gold The brightness rather than the shades of man,

So loose abroad, that Virtue's self is sold, That owns the good, while smarting with the ill, And conscience, truth, and honesty, are made And loves the world with all its frailty still

To risp and fall, like other wares of trade!! What ardent bosom does not spring to meet The generous hope with all that heavenly beat, Already in this free, this virtuous state, Which makes the soul unwilling to resign

Which, Frenchimen tell us, was ordain'd by Fate, The thoughts of growing, even on earth, divine! To show the world what high perfection spring Yes, dearest Forbes, I see thee glow to think

From rabble senators and merchant kingsThe chain of ages yet may boast a link

Even here already patriots learn to steal Of purer texture than the world has known,

Their private perquisites from public weal, And fit to bind us to a Godhead's throne!

And, guardians of the country's sacred tire,

Like Afric's priests, they let the tlame for hire ! But, is it thus? doth even the glorious dream

Those vaunted demagogues, who nobly rose Borrow from truth that dim uncertain gleam,

From England's debtors to be England's foes, ? Which bids us give such dear delusion scope,

Who could their monarch in their purse forget, As kills not reason, while it nurses hope?

And break allegiance but to cancel debi, 3 believe me, 't is not so--rveu now, While yet upon Columbia's rising brow

No, no,

memorial may be found in PorcuPixE's Works, rol. i. p. The showy smile of young presumption plays,

remains a striking monument of republican intrigue en

and republican prothgary on the other; and I would recomme ller bloom is poison d and her heart decays!

perusal of it to every honest politician, who may labur uoler. 12 Even now, in dawn of life, her sickly breath

ment's di losion with respect to the purity of American patristsen. Burns with the taipt of empires near their death, 1. Nous voyons que dans les pays où l'on n'est affrete se tu And, like the nymphıs of her own withering clime,

l'empre de commerce, on tratique de toutes les actious he***

et de toutes les virtus morales. - MONTESQUIEU, de l'Esprit de lui. She's old in youth, she's blasted in her prime!?

liv. 21), chap.?.

? I trust Isbell not be suspected of a wish in justify thousands Thus Morse. Here the sciences and the arts of civilized life are trary steps of the Lalish Government wbich the Colonies * to receive their lugliest improvements; bere asıl and religious liberty an necessary tot resist; my only obijret here is to expose the sex are to flourisli, unchecked by the cruil band of civil or celesiastical motives of some of the leados American demagogues. tyranny: here (ennus, diled lis ill the impements of former ages, 3 The most persevering enemy to the interests of this man is to be exerted in bumizing markinul, texpanding and onrihang amongst the politicians of the western world, has been Vimond their minds sith religious and poli.sophical knordic . cic. etc. p. 56g. incrchant, whe, finding it easier to settle his conscience than

3. What will be the old age of this government, if it is thus early debts, was one of the first to raise the standard against Grest decrepiti. Sub has the remark of FAUCET, the Frencli minister at tuin, and bus permet onderoured to revenge upon the other Plilulelphia, in that farno na risport litt historiament whining (country the obligations about he lies vader to intercepted by one olur

in the tiroi.

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Have proved at length the mineral's tempting hue, One high pulsation of the zeal for man,
Which makes a patriot, can unmake him too." Which few can feel, and bless that few who can!
Oh! Freedom, Freedom, how I hate thy cant!

Oh! turn to him, beneath whose kindred eyes Not Eastern bombast, nor the savage rant

Thy talents open and thy virtues rise, Of purpled madmen, were they number'd all

Forget where Nature has been dark or dim, From Roman Nero down to Russian Paul,

And proudly study all her lights in him! Could grate upon my ear so mean, so base,

Yes, yes, in him the erring world forget, As the rank jargon of that factious race,

And feel that man may reach perfection yet! Who, poor of heart and prodigal of words, Born to be slaves and struggling to be lords, But pant for licence, while they spurn control, And shout for rights, with rapine in their soul!

SONG. Who can, with patience, for a moment see

Tue wreath you wove, the wreath you wove The medley mass of pride and misery,

Is fair-but oh! how fair, Of whips and charters, manacles and rights,

If Pity's hand had stolen from Love
Of slaving blacks and democratic whites, a

One leaf to mingle there!
And all the pye-bald polity that reigns
In free confusion o'er Columbia's plains ?

If every rose with gold were tied,
To think that man, thou just and gentle God!

Did gems for dew-drops fall, Should stand before thee, with a tyrant's rod

One faded leaf where Love had sigh'd O'er creatures like himself, with soul from thee,

Were sweetly worth them all!
Yet dare to boast of perfect liberty :
Away, away-1'd rather hold my neck

The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove By doubtful tenure from a sultan's beck,

Our emblem well may be; In climes where liberty has scarce been named,

Its bloom is yours, but hopeless love
Nor any right but that of ruling claim'd,

Must keep its tears for me!
Than thus to live, where bastard freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves ;
Where (motley laws admitting no degree

LYING.
Betwist the vilely slaved and madly free)
Alike the bondage and the license suit,

Che con le lor bojie pajon divini.
The brute made ruler and the man made brute!

MAURO D'ARCANO.

I do confess, in many a sigh
My lips have breathed you many a lie,
And who, with such delights in view,
Would lose them for a lie or two?

But, oh my Forbes! while thus, in flowerless song,
I feebly paint what yet I feel so strong-
The ills, the vices of the land, where first
Those rebel fiends that rack the world were nurst!
Where treason's arm by royalty was nerved,
And Frenchmen learn'd to crush the throne they served -
Thou, gently lull'd in dreams of classic thought,
By bards illamined and by sages taught,
Pant'st to be all, upon this mortal scene,
That bard hath fancied or that sage hath been !
Why should I wake thee? why severely chase
The lovely forms of virtue and of grace,
That dwell before thee, like the pictures spread
By Spartan matrons round the genial bed,
Moulding thy fancy, and with gradual art
Brightening the young conceptions of thy heart!
Forgive me, Forbes--and should the song destroy
One generous hope, one throb of social joy,

Nay-look not thus, with brow reproving;
Lies are, my dear, the soul of loving!
If half we tell the girls were true,
If half we swear to think and do,
Were aught but lying's bright illusion,
The world would be in strange confusion!
If ladies' eyes were, every one,
As lovers swear, a radiant sun,
Astronomy should leave the skies,
To learn her lore in ladies' eyes!
Oh no!-believe me, lovely girl,
When Nature turns your teeth to pearl,
Your neck to snow, your eyes to fire,
Your yellow locks to golden wire,
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!

# See Porcepist's Account of the Pensylvania Insurrection in 1794. In short, see Porcupine's works throughout, for ample corroboration of every sentiment which I have ventured to express. In saying this, I refer less to the cominents of that writer, thaa to the oceurrences bich le has related and the documents which he has preserved. Opraisa may be respected of bias, but faets speak for themselves.

• la Virginia the effects of this system begin to be felt rather seriously. While the master raves of liberty, the slave cannot but catch the contagion, and accordingly there seldom elapses a month itbeat some alarm of insurrection amongst the negroes. The accessues of Louisiana, it is feared, will increase this embarrassment, as the namerous emigrations, wbich are expected to take place from the southern states to this newly-acquired territory, will considerably diminish the white population, and thus strengthen the proportion of begroes is a degree which must ultimately be ruinous.

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 eudures;
And while he lies, his heart is yours:

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Donington Park, 1802. To catch the thought, by painting's spell,

How c'er remote, bowe'er refined, And o'er the magic tablet tell

The silent story of the mind;

FRAGMENT OF A MYTHOLOGICAL HYMN

TO LOVE.
Befst infant of eternity!

Before the day-star learn'd 10 move, I Love and Psyche are bere considered as the action and pansive principles of creation, and the universe is supposed to have received its first harmonizing impulse from the nuptial oyimpathy between these 10 powers.

A marriage is generally the first step in cormofony. Timrus belt arm to be the Cuber, and Matter the mother of the World; Elion and Berouts, I think, ap Sanchoniatho's first spiritual lovers, and Manco-espax and his wife introduced creation amongst the Peruvians. In short, Harlequin wems to have studied cost Gonics, then be said tutto il mondo è fatto con la nostra famiglia,

O'er Nature's form to glance the eye,

And fix, by mimic light and shade, ller morning tinges, ere they fly,

Her evening blushes, cre they fade!

These are the pencil's grandest theme,

Divinest of the powers divine
That light the Muse's tlowery dream,

And these, oh Prince! are richly thine!

Of things sublime, of Nature's birth,
Of all that's bright in heaven or earth,
Oh! think that she, by whom 't was given,
Adores thee more than earth or heaven!»

Yet, yet, when Friendship sees thee trace,

In emanating soul expressid,
The sweet memorial of a face

On which her eye delights to rest;
While o'er the lovely look serene,

The smile of peace, the bloom of youth,
The cheek, that blushes to be seen,

The eye, that tells the bosom's truth;
While o'er each line, so brightly true,

Her soul with fond attentiou roves,
Blessing the hand whose various hue

Could imitate the form it loves;
She feels the value of thy art,

And owns it with a purer zeal,
A rapture, nearer to her heart
Than critic taste can ever feel!

Yes, dearest Lamp! by every charm

On which thy midnight beam has hung;'
The neck reclined, the graceful arm

Across the brow of ivory tlung;
The heaving bosom, partly bid,

The sever'd lops' delicious siglas,
The fringe, that from the snowy lid

Along the cheek of roses lies :

By these, by all that bloom untold,

And long as all shall charm my heart,
I'll love my little Lamp of gold,

My Lamp and I shall never part !

And often, as she smiling said,
THE PHILOSOPHER ARISTIPPUS

lo fancy's hour, tly gentle rays

Shall guide my visionary tread
TO A LAMP WHICH WAS GIVEN HIM BY LAIS.

Through poesy's enchanting maze!
Dulcis conscia lectuli lucerna.

Thy flame shall light the page refined,
Mantra, lib. xiv. epig. 39.

Where still we catch the Chian's breath, « On! love the Lamp (my mistress said),

Where still the bard, though cold in death,

Has left his burning soul behind !
The faithful lamp that, many a night,
Beside thy Lais' lonely bed

Or, o'er thy humbler legend shine,
Has kept its little watch of light!

Oh map of Ascra's dreary glades !?

To whom the nightly-warbling Nine3 « Full often has it seen her weep,

A wand of inspiration gave, 4
And fix her eye upon its flame,

Pluck'd from the greenest tree that shades
Till, weary, she has sunk to sleep,

The crystal of Castalia's wave.
Repeating her beloved's name!

Then, turning to a purer lore,

We'll call the sages' heavenly store, « Oft has it known her cheek to burn

From Science steal her golden clue,
With recollections, fondly free,

And every mystic path pursue,
And seen her turn, impassion d turn,

Where Nature, far from vulgar eyes,
To kiss the pillow, love! for thee,

Through labyrinths of wonder flies!
And, in a murmur, wish thee there,
That kiss to feel, that thought to share!

'Tis thus my heart shall learn to know

The passing world's precarious flight, « Then love the Lamp- 't will often lead

Where all that meets the morning glow
Thy step through Learning's sacred way;

Is changed before the fall of night!
And, lighted by its happy ray,
Whene'er those darling eyes shall read

I'll tell thee, as I trim thy fire,

« Swift, swift the tide of being runs, * It was not very diffeult to become a pbilosopher amongst the ancieals. A moderate store of learning, with a considerable portion • The ancients had their lucernæ cubicularie, or bed-chamber of confidence, and wit enough to produce an occasional apophthegm, lamps, which, as the Emperor GALIenes sad, si cras meminere ;• were all the necessary qualifications for the purpose. The principles and with the same commendation of sterecy, Praxagora addresses her of moral science were so very imperfectly understood, that the lamp, ia AustOrnases, Exxans. We may judge how fanciful they founder of a des sect, in forming his ethical code, magbt consult were in the use and embellistunent of their lamps, from the famous either fancy or temperament, and adapt it to his own passions au symbolie Lucerna which we find in the Romanum Museum Mica. propensities; ss that Mahomet, with a litle more learning, might Ass. C.cat, p. 137. have tourished as a philosopher in those days, and would have re- • Hauor, who tells os ia melancholy terms of his father's flight to quired but the polish of the schools to become the rival of Aristippos the wretebed village of Asera. Epy. xu 'Huep. v. 351. in morality. In the science of nature too, though they discovered

'Εννυχιαι δειχον, περικαλλέα οσσαι

tiga.some valuable truths, yet they seemned not to know they were truths.

Theog. v. 10. or at least were as well satisfied with errors; and Xenophanes, who mesented that the stars were igneous clouds, lighted up every night

• Και μοι σκηπτρον εδον, δαφνης εριθηλεα οζον.and extinguished agaia in the morning. was thought and styled . | Id. v. 3o. pbilosopber, as generally as he who anticipated Newton in developing • 'Pay Ta önce Trota pou dixny, as expressed among the the arrangement of the universe.

dogmas of HasCLITOS the Ephesian, and with the same image by For this opinion of Xenophanes, see PLUTARCH.de Placit. Philosoph, SENECA, in whom we find a beautiful diffasion of the thought. läb. ii. cap. 13. It is impossible to read this treatise of Plutarch . Nemo est man, qui fuit pridie. Corpora bostra rapiuntur fluminum without alternately admiring and smiling at the genius, the ab- more: quicquid vides currit cum tempore. Nihil ex his quae videmus vardities of the philosophers.

manet. Ego ipse, dum loquor mutari ipsa, mutatus sum,. ele.

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