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For I have thought of former hours,
When be who first thy soul possessid,
Like me was loved, like me was blest!
Upon his name thy murmuring tongue
Perhaps hath all as sweetly dwelt;
In ecstasy, as purely felt!
And many a rose-leaf, culla by Love,
To heal his lip when bees have stung it!
Which answers when the tongue is loth,
Aod hold'st thy playful hands for both.
The world would see them blended oft;
The Wreath would make the Chain so soft!
That (Fleaven alone can tell the reason)
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?
From other wreaths, to fill their place!
For him-yet why the past recal
To wither blooms of present bliss?
And Heaven can grant no more than this!
I would be first, be sole to thee;
The hour that gave thy heart to me.
Thy book of life till then effaced,
Love should have kept that leaf alone,
That thou wert, soul and all, my own!
FROM TUE CITY OF WASHINGTON.
The timid girl now hung her acad,
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,
Nor o'er their pathway writien, as they ran,
Rose, like a phænix, from the fires of time,
To wing its way unguided and alone,
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!
Ob! nothing but that soul which God has given, Already has the child of Gallia's school,
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
Already has she pour'd her poison here
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
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.
Thị , 1 lit
Have proved at length the mineral's tempting hue, One high pulsation of the zeal for man,
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
One leaf to mingle there!
If every rose with gold were tied,
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!
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
Must keep its tears for me!
Che con le lor bojie pajon divini.
I do confess, in many a sigh
But, oh my Forbes! while thus, in flowerless song,
Nay-look not thus, with brow reproving;
# 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,
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
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
And these, oh Prince! are richly thine!
Of things sublime, of Nature's birth,
Yet, yet, when Friendship sees thee trace,
In emanating soul expressid,
On which her eye delights to rest;
The smile of peace, the bloom of youth,
The eye, that tells the bosom's truth;
Her soul with fond attentiou roves,
Could imitate the form it loves;
And owns it with a purer zeal,
Yes, dearest Lamp! by every charm
On which thy midnight beam has hung;'
Across the brow of ivory tlung;
The sever'd lops' delicious siglas,
Along the cheek of roses lies :
By these, by all that bloom untold,
And long as all shall charm my heart,
My Lamp and I shall never part !
And often, as she smiling said,
lo fancy's hour, tly gentle rays
Shall guide my visionary tread
Through poesy's enchanting maze!
Thy flame shall light the page refined,
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 !
Or, o'er thy humbler legend shine,
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
Pluck'd from the greenest tree that shades
The crystal of Castalia's wave.
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,
And every mystic path pursue,
Where Nature, far from vulgar eyes,
Through labyrinths of wonder flies!
'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
Is changed before the fall of night!
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.