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LADY QUITTING ENGLAND.
Or when musing alone, if Mamma should annoy,
groom; “ Tout etoit pour mieux,” in court, pulpit, or stage ; (Like the Optimist drawn in Voltaire's witty page ;)* And you, my sweet girl! will repeat the same tone, If with candour, some twenty years hence, you will
own ; When the Gordian knot has been joyfully tied,
And the matron succeeds to the beautiful bride;
As lovely young ** at first is brought out,
Each belle to eclipse at the concert or rout;
LINES ADDRESSED TO A
When emerg'd from the" Bonne,” from the governess hand, She believes it enchantment, and quite fairy land;
Thinks existence, too fleeting, for all it contains,
When we sink in oblivion, forgot, and unknown,
When a fresh set of actors appear in our room,
your Hebe-like figure is cold in the tomb. Seize then, the brief moments, our treasure and boast,
A few golden seasons, I fear, at the most,
Ere the shadows of Autumn will darken our May,
Or those bright auburn ringlets must fade into grey;
And till hoary December, terrific and old,
LADY QUITTING ENGLAND.
May you brighten with hope, each dark scene of distress,
And an old feudal coronet laid at your feet.
And must that fine figure be turn'd into clay,
“ Dissolv'd like a clod of the valley away ?” Her friends and connexions no longer delight,
But vanish for ever in darkness and night?
Yet a garland of cypress despondingly twine; When recalling the scenes of life's juvenile hour, (Ere Time, that intruder! display'd his vile power ;) And tho’ vain each endeavour to bring to our view, The landscape as brilliant, as Nature first drew; ”Till our spirit returns to the Being who gave, And the earth-worm shall crawl o'er our desolate grave;
LINES TO A LADY QUITTING ENGLAND.
May Providence still each kind blessing extend,
Still forgiveness with mercy harmoniously blend; And each heart-rending image both calm and repel, As sighing, we hear, poor *** 's knell.
FRIEND WISHING TO RETIRE TO ONE OF THE GREEK ISLANDS.*
“ An oaken seat,
“A maple dish, my furniture should be ;
My night-watch--tir'd of the world, and all
What ! leave the sphere by Providence design'd,
Renounce each hope of honourable fame, Renounce each impulse that inspires the mind,
And dying leave an unrecorded name.
* The late Sir F- B-tt, with whom the Author was walking in Kensington Gardens.