ADDRESSED TO A FEMALE RELATION; WITH MADAME DE SEVIGNE'S LETTERS, PREVIOUS TO HER EMBARKATION FOR THE CONTINENT. "Youth wastes away, and withers like a flower, "The lovely phantom of a fleeting hour; "While, unperceived, the silent foot of Age, "Steals on our joys, and drives us from the stage." Hodgson's Juvenal. THESE Letters shew, my young and charming maid, The ardent love a mother once display'd; In them you trace, with manly sense combined, The winning softness of the female mind. 54 LINES ADDRESSED In them observe, with warmest friendship fraught, All proud Versailles's high-bred circle taught; Each year the soldier, with a fainter glow, Each year deprives the poet of his fire, Weakens his genius, and unstrings his lyre; Restrains the lover in his tow'ring flight, Damps all his ardour with the chill of night; TO A FEMALE RELATION. And as gay dreams of future life we view, But why 'midst pleasure such remarks intrude? Dispel each feeling of regret or care, And shine the foremost of the young and fair; Each varied charm of foreign climes explore, The stately palace, or romantic shore; From Seine's green border to Schaffhausen's Fall, Helvetian forests, or the Louvre's hall; Yet when in solitude you fondly roam, How oft will rise the magic thoughts of Home! Or some old convent wakes reflection's train And Albion's star no distance can efface. ; 55 UPON THE DOGANA AT VENICE. "Oh! nostras vita! ch' e' si bella in vista, IN yon bright mansion Commerce calls her own, Where the "Winged Lion" held his sea-girt throne, And proudly swept th' Adriatic main, In search of conquest, or pursuit of gain; View Fortune's goddess, fickle, fair and blind,* Turn with each breeze, and change with every wind; Emblem too true of transitory sway, As dull canals their stagnant weeds display. * Placed as a weather-cock on the Custom House at Venice. LINES UPON THE DOGANA AT VENICE. 57 If, courteous reader, then, a son you claim, (Lik young Alcides musing o'er his choice)— Exposed alike to shipwreck and to fire, In quick descent observe the proudest fall, And though, perchance, to opulence you tower, While manly strength and dignity of mind, May the profession's narrow chain unbind; The nobles scorn you, and the people hate; Should Home, dear Home, and tranquil joys delight, "Gold is your dream from morn to dewy night;" |