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. STANZAS TO A LADY, WITH THE POEMS OF CAMOENS. THIS Votive pledge of fond esteem, Who blames it but the envious fool, In single sorrow doomed to fade? Then read, dear girl! with feeling read, For thou wilt ne'er be one of those; He was in sooth a genuine bard; LINES ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY As the author was discharging his pistols in a garden, two ladies passing near the spot were alarmed by the sound of a bullet hissing near them, to one of whom the following stanzas were addressed the next morning. DOUBTLESS, Sweet girl, the hissing lead, Has filled that breast with fond alarms. Surely some envious demon's force, Yes, in that nearly fatal hour The ball obeyed some hell-born guide; Yet, as perchance one trembling tear Say, what dire penance can atone For such an outrage done to thee? Might I perform the judge's part, The sentence I should scarce deplore; Which but belonged to thee before. The least atonement I can make, But thou, perhaps, mayst now reject Come then, some other mode elect; Choose then, relentless! and I swear Let it be aught but banishment. ΤΟ Он! yes, I will own we were dear to each other; But friendship can vary her gentle dominion, The attachment of years in a moment expires; Like love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion, But glows not, like love, with unquenchable fires. Full oft have we wandered through Ida together, And blest were the scenes of our youth I allow; In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather, But winter's rude tempests are gathering now. No more with affection shall memory blending The wonted delights of our childhood retrace: When pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbending, And what would be justice appears a disgrace. However, dear S—, for I still must esteem you I will not complain, and though chilled is affection, You knew that my soul, that my heart, my existence, You knew but away with the vain retrospection! For the present, we part-I will hope not for ever, TO LESBIA. LESBIA! since far from you I've ranged, Your polished brow no cares have crost; Or told my love, with hope grown bolder. Sixteen was then our utmost age, Two years have lingering past away, love! And now new thoughts our minds engage, At least I feel disposed to stray, love! "Tis I that am alone to blame, I, that am guilty of love's treason; Since your sweet breast is still the same, Caprice must be my only reason. I do not, love! suspect your truth, With jealous doubt my bosom heaves not; Warm was the passion of my youth, One trace of dark deceit it leaves not. No, no, my flame was not pretended, My bosom still esteems you dearly. |