Had Fortune aided Nature's care, But had the goddess clearly seen, His form had fix'd her fickle breast; ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY,* HUSH'D are the winds, and still the evening gloom, Within this narrow cell reclines her clay, That clay where once such animation beam'd; Oh! could that King of Terrors pity feel, Or Heaven reverse the dread decrees of fate! Not here the mourner would his grief reveal, Not here the muse her virtues would relate. But wherefore weep? her matchless spirit soars And shall presumptuous mortals heaven arraign, Yet is remembrance of those virtues dear, Yet fresh the memory of that beauteous face; Still they call forth my warm affection's tear, Still in my heart retain their wonted place. TO EMMA.‡ SINCE now the hour is come at last, One pang, my girl, and all is over. Alas! that pang will be severe, Which bids us part to meet no more,. Which tears me far from one so dear, Departing for a distant shore. • Miss Parker. Well: we have pass'd some happy hours, Where from the gothic casement's height, O'er fields through which we used to run, Whilst I, admiring, too remiss, It dared to give your slumbering eyes. See still the little painted bark, In which I row'd you o'er the lake, These times are past-our joys are gone, Who can conceive, who has not proved, You bid a long adieu to peace. This is the deepest of our woes, For this these tears our cheeks bedew; AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE. DELIVERED PREVIOUS TO THE PERFORMANCE OF SINCE the refinement of this polish'd age To these stanzas, which are from the private volume, the following note ts present state, to making either addition or alteration." • This poem is inserted from the private volume. Drooping, alas! we fall to rise no more. Not one poor trembler only fear betrays, TO WHICH THE AUTHOR OF THESE PIECES SENT THE FOLLOWING REPLY. § Он, factious viper! whose envenom'd tooth Or round our statesman wind her gloomy veil. TO M. S. G.* WHENE'ER I view those lips of thine, Whene'er I dream of that pure breast, How could I dwell upon its snows? Yet is the daring wish represt, For that, would banish its repose. A glance from thy soul-searching eye I would not force a painful tear. I ne'er have told my love, yet thou Hast seen my ardent flame too well; And shall I plead my passion now, To make thy bosom's heaven a hell? No! for thou never canst be mine, Mine, my beloved, thou ne'er shalt be. Then let the secret fire consume, I will not ease my tortured heart, Each thought presumptuous I resign. Yes! yield those lips, for which I'd brave Yes, yield that breast to seek despair, And hope no more thy soft embrace, Which to obtain my soul would dare, All, all reproach, but thy disgrace. At least from guilt shalt thou be free, No matron shall thy shame reprove, Though cureless pangs may prey on me, No martyr shalt thou be to love. TO CAROLINE.† THINK'ST thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Though keen the grief thy tears exprest, When love and hope lay both o'erthrown; Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast Throbb'd with deep sorrow as thine own. Only printed in the private volume. † Printed only in the private volume. 419 Then read, dear girl! with feeling read, For thou wilt ne'er be one of those; To thee in vain I shall not plead In pity for the poet's woes. He was in sooth a genuine bard; THE FIRST KISS OF LOVE.* « Α Βαρβιτος δε χορδαῖς Έρωτα μουνον ἠχει.” Anacreon. AWAY with your fictions of flimsy romance Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove; Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove, From what blest inspirations your sonnets would flow, Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love! If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse, Or the Nine be disposed from your service to rove, Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse, And try the effect of the first kiss of love. I hate you, ye cold compositions of art, Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove, I court the effusions that spring from the heart Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love. Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes, Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move : Arcadia displays but a region of dreams; What are visions like these to the first kiss of love? Oh! cease to affirm that man since his birth, § From Adam till now, has with wretchedness strove; Some portion of paradise still is on earth, When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past For years fleet away with the wings of the doveThe dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love. • These stanzas were printed in the private volume, and in the first edition of Hours of 1 tleness, but omitted in the second. ↑ "Those tissues of fancy Moriah' has wove."-Private volume. "Your shepherds, your pipes, &c.-Private volume. "Oh! cease to affirm that man, from his birth," &c.-Private volume. "Moriah, the Goddess of Folly." TO MARY. OH! did those eyes, instead of fire, With bright but mild affection shine, Though they might kindle less desire, Love, more than mortal, would be thine. For thou art form'd so heavenly fair, Howe'er those orbs may wildly beam, We must admire, but still despair; That fatal glance forbids esteem. When nature stamped thy beauteous birth, So much perfection in thee shone, She fear'd that too divine for earth, The skies might claim thee for their own. Therefore, to guard her dearest work, Lest angels might dispute the prize She bade a secret lightning lurk Within those once celestial eyes. These might the boldest sylph appal, When gleaming with meridian blaze, Thy beauty must enrapture all, But who can dare thine ardent gaze? 'Tis said that Berenice's hair In stars adorns the vault of heaven : But they would ne'er permit thee there, Thou wouldst so far outshine the seven. For did those eyes as planets roll, Thy sister-lights would scarce appear: E'en suns, which systems now control, Would twinkle dimly through their sphere. 1806. TO WOMAN. WOMAN! experience might have told me Oh, Memory thou choicest blessing When join'd with hope, when still possessing, But how much cursed by every lover When hope is filed and passion's over. Woman, that fair and fond deceiver, How prompt are striplings to believe her! How throbs the pulse when first we view "Woman, thy vows are traced in sand." • The last line is almost a literal translation from a Spanish proverb. TO M. S. G. WHEN I dream that you love me, you'll surely forgive, Extend not your anger to sleep; For in visions alone your affection can live,- Then, Morpheus! envelope my faculties fast, Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last, They tell us that slumber, the sister of death, To fate how I long to resign my frail breath, Ah! frown not, sweet lady, unbend your soft brow, If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now, Though in visions, sweet lady, perhaps you may Oh! think not my penance deficient! Awake, with it my fancy teems; Alas! again no more we meet, TO A BEAUTIFUL QUAKER.* SWEET girl! though only once we met, What though we never silence broke, : † Morven, a lofty mountain in Aberdeenshire: "Gormal of snow," is an expression frequently to be found in Ossian. This will not appear extraordinary to those who have been accustomed to the mountains; it is by no means uncommon on attaining the top of Bene-vis Ben-y-bourd, &c., to perceive between the summit and the valley, clouds pouring down rain, and occasionally accompanied by lightning, while the Thy form appears through night, through day spectator literally looks down upon the storm, perfectly secure from is effecta. • These lines were published in the private volume, and the first edition of Hours of Idleness, but subsequently omitted by the author. Breasting the lofty surge.-Shakspeare. The Dee is a beautiful river, which rises near Mar Lodge, and hile inte the sea at New Aberdeen. |