SONNETS.

You are not, Kelly, of the common strain,
That stoop their pride and female honor down
To please that many-headed beast the town,
And vend their lavish smiles and tricks for

gain;

By fortune thrown amid the actors' train,
You keep your native dignity of thought;
The plaudits that attend you come unsought,
As tributes due unto your natural vein.

Your tears have passion in them, and a grace
Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow;
Your smiles are winds whose ways we cannot
trace,

That vanish and return we know not how-
And please the better from a pensive face,
A thoughtful eye, and a reflecting brow.

II.

ON THE SIGHT OF SWANS IN KENSINGTON GARDEN.

QUEEN-BIRD that sittest on thy shining nest, And thy young cygnets without sorrow hatchest,

And thou, thou other royal bird, that watchest
Lest the white mother wandering feet molest:
Shrined are your offspring in a chrystal cradle,
Brigitte. Inart.cafyt

Her shelly isou. Tacy sinus
Strong, active, graceia, poslane

To tread the land or walets w! N
Unlike poor human births, conerned in
In grief brought forth, both ou'womaly an
Confessing weakness, error, an inspan sty
Did heavenly creatures own succes,
The births of heaven like to you.'