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LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE.

Her attachment may differ from yours in degree,

Provided they are both of one kind; But Friendship how tender so ever it be

Gives no accord to Love, however refin'd.

Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature

revealing, Grows asham'd of itself, and demurs: If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling,

You must lower down your state to hers.

NAMES.

I ASKED my fair, one happy day,
What I should call her in my lay ;

By what sweet name from Rome or Greece;
Lalage, Neæra, Chloris,
Sappho, Lesbia, or Doris,

Arethusa or Lucrece.

“ Ah!” replied my gentle fair,
“ Beloved, what are names but air?

Choose thou whatever suits the line;
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage or Doris,

Only, only call me thine."

DESIRE.

WHERE true Love burns, Desire is Love's pure
It is the reflex of our earthly frame, [flame;
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.

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- O Fair is Love's first hope to gentle mind!

As Eve's first star thro' fleecy cloudlet peeping;
And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind,
O’er willowy meads and shadow'd waters creeping,
And Ceres' golden fields ;—the sultry hind
Meets it with brow uplift, and stays his reaping.

NOT AT HOME.

That Jealousy may rule a mind

Where Love could never be
I know; but ne'er expect to find

Love without Jealousy.

She has a strange cast in her e'e,

A swart sour-visaged maid-
But yet Love's own twin-sister she

His house-mate and his shade.

Ask for her and she'll be denied :

What then ? they only mean
Their mistress has lain down to sleep,

And can't just then be seen.

TO A LADY,

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT

WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS.

Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave ?

I said, you had no soul, 'tis true! For what you are, you cannot have :

'Tis I, that have one since I first bad you!

WHY LOVE IS BLIND.

I HAVE heard of reasons manifold

Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold

His eyes are in his mind.

What outward form and feature are

He guesseth but in part;
But what within is good and fair

He seeth with the heart.

LINES

SUGGESTED BY THE LAST WORDS OF BERENGARIUS.

OB. ANNO DOM. 1088.

No more 'twixt conscience staggering and the Pope
Soon shall I now before my God appear,
By him to be acquitted, as I hope ;
By him to be condemned, as 1 fear.-

REFLECTION ON THE ABOVE.

Lynx amid moles! had I stood by thy bed,
Be of good cheer, meek soul! I would have said :
I see a hope spring from that humble fear.
All are not strong alike through storms to steer
Right onward. What! though dread of threaten'd

death
And dungeon torture made thy hand and breath
Inconstant to the truth within thy heart?
That truth, from which, through fear, thou twice

didst start,

Fear haply told thee, was a learned strife,
Or not so vital as to claim thy life:
And myriads had reached heaven, who never knew
Where lay the difference 'twixt the false and true !

Ye, who secure 'mid trophies not your own,
Judge him who won them when he stood alone,

And proudly talk of recreant Berengare-
O first the age, and then the man compare!
That age

how dark ! congenial minds how rare!
No host of friends with kindred zeal did burn !
No throbbing hearts awaited his return !
Prostrate alike when prince and peasant fell,
He only disenchanted from the spell,
Like the weak worm that gems the starless night,
Moved in the scanty circlet of his light:
And was it strange if he withdrew the ray
That did but guide the night-birds to their prey ?

The ascending day-star with a bolder eye
Hath lit each dew-drop on our trimmer lawn!
Yet not for this, if wise, shall we decry
The spots and struggles of the timid dawn;
Lest so we tempt th' approaching noon to scom
The mists and painted vapours of our morn.

SANCTI DOMINICI PALLIUM;
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN POET AND FRIEND,

FOUND WRITTEN ON THE BLAXK LEAF AT THE BEGINNING OF

BUTLER'S BOOK OF THE CHURCH.

POET.

I note the moods and feelings men betray,
And heed them more than aught they do or say;
The lingering ghosts of many a secret deed
Still-born or haply strangled in its birth ;

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