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6 PSYCHE am I, who love to dwell
In these brown shades, this woody dell,
Where never busy mortal came,
Till now, to pry upon my shame.
At thy feet what thou dost see
The waters of repentance be,
Which, night and day, I must augment
With tears, like a true penitent,
If haply so my day of grace
Be not yet past; and this lone place,
O’er-shadowy, dark, excludeth hence
All thoughts but grief and penitence.
• Why dost thou weep, thou gentle maid !
And wherefore in this barren shade-
Thy hidden thoughts with sorrow feed ?
Can thing so fair repentance need ?"
660! I have done a deed of shame, And tainted is my virgin fame, And stained the beauteous maiden white In which my bridal robes were dight.' 6 And who the promised spouse? declare: And what those bridal garments were.”
“ Severe and saintly righteousness Composed the clear white bridal dress; Jesus, the Son of Heaven's high King, Bought with his blood the marriage ring.
A wretched sinful creature, I
Deemed lightly of that sacred tie,
Gave to a treacherous WORLD my heart,
And played the foolish wanton's part.
Soon to these murky shades I came,
To hide from the sun's light my shame.
And still I haunt this woody dell,
And bathe me in that healing well,
Whose waters clear bave influence
From sin's foul stains the soul to cleanse;
And night and day, I them augment,
With tears, like a true penitent,
Until, due expiation made,
And fit atonement fully paid,
The Lord and Bridegroom me present,
Where in sweet strains of high consent,
God's throne before the Seraphim
Shall chant the ecstatic marriage hymn."
66 Now Christ restore thee soon"-I said, And thenceforth all my dream was fled.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN A MOTHER AND
“ O LADY, lay your costly robes aside,
No longer may you glory in your pride."
Wherefore to-day art singing in mine ear
Sad songs were made so long ago, my dear?
This day I am to be a bride, you know,
Why sing sad songs, were made so long ago ?
O mother, lay your costly robes aside,
For you may never be another's bride.
That line I learned not in the old sad song.
I pray thee, pretty one, now hold thy tongue, Play with the bride-maids; and be glad, my boy, For thou shalt be a second father's joy.
One father fondled me upon his knee.
One father is enough, alone, for me.
On a bank with roses shaded,
Whose sweet scent the violets aided-
Violets whose breath alone
Yields but feeble smell or none,
(Sweeter bed Jove ne'er reposed on
When his eyes Olympus closed on,)
While o'er head six slaves did hold
Canopy of cloth o' gold,
And two more did music keep,
Which might Juno lull to sleep,
Oriana, who was queen
To the mighty Tamerlane,
That was lord of all the land
Between Thrace and Samarchand,
While the noon-tide fervour beamed,
Mused herself to sleep, and dreamed.
Thus far, in magnific strain, A
young poet soothed his vein, But he had nor prose nor numbers To express a princess' slumbers. Youthful Richard had strange fancies, Was deep versed in old romances, And could talk whole hours upon The Great Cham and Prester John
Tell the field in which the Sophi
From the Tartar won a trophy-
What he read with such delight of,
Thought he could as easily write of -
But his over-young invention
Kept not pace with brave intention.
Twenty suns did rise and set,
And he could no further get;
But, unable to proceed,
Made a virtue out of need,
And, his labours wiselier deemed of,
Did omit what the queen dreamed of.
NOTING THE DIFFERENCE OF RICH AND POOR, IN THE
WAYS OF A RICH NOBLE'S PALACE AND A POOR WORKHOUSE.
To the Tune of the " Old and Young Courtier.”
In a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold ;
In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold;
There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire,
Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their de-