XIII. THE RAPIDS OF LOVE.

[Courier. Charleston.]

THERE are rapids in Love, but they fail as they flow,
Thus pleasure inhabits the borders of wo;

And the tears of their union, though sun-beams illume,
They meet in the rainbow, and part in the gloom.
There are rapids in Love, but they must be passed o'er,
By those who would not be confined to the shore ;
For danger has charms, when it points to delight,
And morning is lovely, for following night.

Let us risk the descent, our barques shall combine,
Our hopes and our hearts shall together incline;
Love beckons us on, to the perilous wave,
One moment shall ruin us both, or shall save.
Protect us! ye stars of the fond and the true,
The dangers of lovers are sacred to you;
The rapids are over-surviving secure,
In the sea of delight our barques we will moor.

XIV. LOVE AT THE CAPUCHIN CHAPEL.
[From the same.]

LOVE went into the Capuchin Church,
But soon came out again;
For after all his eager search,

He saw there only men.

Oh church of grief! Oh shrine of tears!
Where woman has no place-

To lift her snow-white soul in prayers,
And sweetly sue for grace.

There cannot be for man a heaven,
And not for woman too;

For woman to the earth was given,
To bless it, and renew.

In virgin forms do saints abide,
In virgin voices pray;
And all upon the earth beside,
Is worthless, lovely clay.

XV. LOVE AT THE RACES.

[From the same.]

LOVE went out to see the race:
I marvel if there be a place

Where Love goes not; unless it be
Some place unknown to you and me.

Love did not in a sulky go,-
The surly equipage of wo;
Nor rode he in a coach and four,
By vulgar eyes gazed o'er and o'er :

Nor travell'd like the common throng,
Who mutter as they trudge along ;
Nor like the dandy, turning round,
To look contemptuous on the ground.
Part of the ceiling of the sky
Happening to fall when Love was nigh,
He made of it an azure car,

And placed on either side a star.

His chariot open'd from above,

For Love sees heaven, and heaven sees Love
But when a tete-a-tete he chose,

Love bade it like a violet close.

He harness'd Hope and young Desire,

And, lest the generous steeds should tire,
With kisses he supplied their fare,

And baited them with capillaire.

Love's wheels were of the sandal tree,
Sweet circles of perfumery;

Each spoke entwin'd with jessamine flowers,
Like Love's sweet dial of the hours.

Dreams curtain'd little Love around,
And Zephyrs played, and Pleasures crowned.
The seats were myrtle-only three-
For Love himself, for you and me.

Love marvelled, when the race was o'er,
How short the conflict did endure ;
He turned contemptuous from the sight,
And plumed his wings with self-delight.
"Why, we, ourselves, can better do ;"
So said Love, to me and you:
There's not a steed beneath the sun,
That Love in rapture can't outrun.

XVI. LOVE AT THE JOCKEY-CLUB BALL. [From the same.]

METHINKS, said Love, as I went to the race,
I'll go to the ball, where each smiling Grace,
Like a band of sylphs, in their mystic round,
Will lightly dance to the music's sound.

I'll wear me a sash of the violet's hue,
As bright as a hare-bell, bathed in dew,
And I'll go as a harper, and get from P.*
His tuneful lyre of minstrelsy.

And I'll sweep its melodious silver string,
That rival beauty and youth may bring
A chaplet of bays for his brow, that he
May remember them, when he thinks of me.
So said Love-and away he flew,

For P's gold harp; for full well he knew,
That the muses had destin'd his hand to bear
To their favoured bard, a gift so fair.

XVII. LOVE ASLEEP.
[From the same.]

WAKE him not-he dreams of bliss,
His little lips put forth to kiss ;
His arms entwined in virgin grace,
Seem linked in beautiful embrace.
He smiles, and on his opening lip
Might saints refresh and angels sip :
He blushes-'tis the rosy light,
That morning wears on leaving night.
He sighs-'tis not the sigh of wo,
He only sighs that he may know,
If kindred sighs another move,
For mutual sighs are signs of love.
He speaks-it it his dear one's name-
He whispers still it is the same—
The imprisoned accents strive in vain,
They murmur through his lips again.
He wakes--the silly little boy,
To break the mirror thus of joy!
He wakes to sorrow, and in pain-
Oh Love renew thy dreams again.

=

XVIII. LOVE'S BILLET-DOUX.
[Erom the same.]

LOVE wrote a billet-what do you think
Was Love's paper, pen and ink?

Not such things as mortals use;

Ink of sable, quill of goose,
Pewter stand, and paper wove
Out of rags, won't do for Love.

*Dr. James Percival.

He cut the heart of a dove in two,
And mixed the drops with honey dew;
In an amber vase be plac'd them then,
And went to seek for a lover's pen.

He plucked a ray from the setting sun,
A plume of light, as the day is done,
For Love is warm, though night invades,
And Love is bright among the shades.

He waited till the stars arose,
Ere he his billet would compose;
He wrote on rose leaves, newly blown,
Because their fragrance is his own.
A glass of capillaire he quaffed,
Then laughing wrote, and writing laughed.
"We were for each other born,
"We are from each other torn;
"Where we should, then let us be,
"I with you, and you with me."
Love copied then his billet-doux,
One for me and one for you ;

He sealed them with his own dear kiss,
And sent them by the mail of bliss.

The rose of youth is blowing, Love,
The tide of health is flowing, Love,
Then let me be

Entwin'd with thee

As elms and vines are growing, Love.
A chain of flowers has twined us, Love,
And blest the hours shall find us, Love,
Then heart from heart

No more shall part,

Till age and death unbind us, Love.

XX. LOVE'S BENEDICTION.
[From the same.]

BE as thou art-forever young,

Still on thy cheek the vernal bloom;
The honey's essence on thy tongue,
And on thy lips the rose-perfume.

Be as thou art-forever fair,

Still beam with love, those eyes of thine; Forever wave thy yellow hair,

And round thy graceful bosom twine.

Those coral lips, those teeth of pearl,

Those smiles, those glances, and those sighs
Heaven save them long, my charming girl,
To bless this heart, to bless these eyes.

For all of thee, thank heaven, is mine:
And I am happier made by thee;
As when the oak surplants the vine,
'Tis glad, and looketh cheerfully.

XXI. THE CORAL GROVE.
[From the same.]

DEEP in the wave is a Coral Grove,
Where the purple mullet, and gold-fish rove,
Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue,
That never are wet with falling dew.
But in bright and changeful beauty shine,
Far down in the green and glassy brine.

The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow;
From coral rocks the sea plants lift

Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow;