LINES FOR A LADY'S ALBUM.
When Spring enamels with each early flower, The fern-clad common, and the leafless bower; Or giddy fashion lures her joyous train,
To rustic revels at the summer main;
Here may our Petrarchs many a Laura charm,
Praise the soft dimple, or the fine-turn'd arm;
Here may our Sapphos many a flow'ret bring,
From Tempe's valley, or Castalia's spring;
And when the Fates prepare their awful spear,
Nor youth nor beauty can the bosom cheer;
As Nature whispers "from the stage retire,”
Nor love nor friendship can the minstrel fire;
Should former dreams of happiness return,
(When at pale midnight, wintry tapers burn ;)
If pensive thoughts o'er his cold relics stray,
Recall the festive scenes, of many a blissful day.
AFTER READING THE NINETEENTH CANTO OF ARIOSTO.
"Was but the cover of a fairer mind."
"Past times rush in upon me, with that face,
"And many a thought of happiness gone by;
"Doth flash across the brain."
WHEN Medor carv'd Angelica's fair name,
In groves responsive to their mutual flame;
In shady thickets whose impervious bough,
Heard the soft whisper, and the murmur'd vow;
The Cyprian Queen well knew such records fail,
Swept by the storm, or shatter'd by the gale;
Torn from the fragile bark, by jealous Time,
The rival's anger, or the wint'ry clime.
Yet knew, engrav'd upon the faithful breast,
Like adamant, those firm impressions rest;
Of temper, manners, and of virtue join'd,
The graceful person with the cultur'd mind;
Which closely view'd,-the brighter still appear,
By fond rememb'rance youthful joys endear;
And long surviving beauty's swift decay,
Cheer our dark passage to the realms of day.
Such are the feelings which by instinct swell,
As on that portrait fancy loves to dwell;
Recalls the softness Nature form'd to please,
In many an hour of social mirth and ease;
With hasty wing, tho' all those pleasures flew,
Forbear to sigh, despondingly—adieu !
Rememb❜ring still the blissful moments past,
On Friendship's tablet stamp them to the last;
While Hope's bright Goddess shall the future gild,
And to our closing scene, some fairy palace build.
ADDRESSED BY A LADY TO A GENTLEMAN,
EMBARKING FOR INDIA, UPON WHOSE HIGHLAND UNIFORM SHE HAD DROPPED A RING.
"Che dolce piu, che piu giocondo stato,
"Saria di qual d'un amoroso core.
"Che viver piu felice, e piu beato,
"Che retrovarsi in servitu d'Amore ?"
THE tune of a ballad, or scent of a flower,
May recall the remembrance of some festive hour;
Or perchance will awaken, by touching the chain,
Events that for ages reposed in the brain.
Oh! regard then with pity, a poor forlorn maid,
Who of some jealous beauty, or rival afraid;
LINES ADDRESSED BY A LADY
Dropp'd a ring-gallant youth! the best signal of love,
When sanction'd by truth, and approv'd from above;
It reveals she would quit both each parent and friend,
Your health to enliven, your sickness attend;
Thro' Scotia's wild mountains and forests would roam,
Where Spey's rapid torrents, and water-falls foam;
And at War's fatal trumpet would never repine,
On Quebec's foreign lake, or in crossing the Line.
She would comfort and solace, when youth is no more,
When the tumult of camps, and of senates is o'er;
When the trophies you gain'd in Iberia and Gaul,
Shall adorn the proud towers of your forefathers' hall;
Each companion in arms, a warm welcome should find,
And the vet'ran give sorrow and care to the wind.
Or to cheer the poor remnant of life that remains,
She would join the fleet chase thro' your ancient domains;
Delighted, would wander, the rock to survey,*
Where Bothwell convey'd his unfortunate prey;
Where Wallace, for vengeance, once marshall'd his clan;
Or the Bruce, his triumphant resistance began.
*The ruins of Dunbar Castle, where Bothwell conveyed Queen Mary.
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