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Just then, by adverse fate impress'd,
In sleep he seem’d to view
Awoke and found it true.
Ah, muse! forbear to speak
He left poor Bully's beak.
Of such mellifluous tone,
Fast stuck within his own.
On Thracian Hebrus' side
The cruelfdeath he died.
The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a show'r,
Which Mary to Anna conveyed,
And weigh'd down its beautiful head.
And it seem'd to a fanciful view,
On the flourishing bush where it grew.
I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was
For a nosegay, so dripping and drown’d, And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas !
I snapp'd it, it fell to the ground. “And such” I exclaim'd, “is the pitiless part
Some act by the delicate mind, Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart
Already to sorrow resign’d. “ This elegant rose, had I shaken it less,
Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile; And the tear, that is wip'd with a little address,
May be follow'd, perhaps, by a smile."
Man yet mistakes his way,
Are rarely known to stray.
And heard the voice of love;
And sooth'd the list' ning dove:
No time shall disengage,
And constancy sincere,
And mine can read them there;
Shall ne'er be felt by me,
As being shar'd with thee.
When lightnings flash among
the trees, Or kites are hov'ring near, I fear lest thee alone they seize,
And know no other fear. “ 'Tis then I feel myself a wife,
And press thy wedded side,
Death never shall divide.
And scorn thy present lot.
Or kites with cruel beak;
This widow'd heart would break."
Soft as the passing wind; And I recorded what I heard,
A lesson for mankind.
A FABLE. A RAYEN, while with glossy breast Her new-laid eggs she fondly press’d, And, on her wickerwork high mounted, Her chickens prematurely counted, (A fault philosophers might blame If quite exempted from the same), Enjoyed at ease the genial day; 'Twas April, as the bumpkins say, The legislature call'd it May. But, suddenly a wind as high, As ever swept a winter sky, Shook the young leaves about her ears, And fill'd her with a thousand fears,
Lest the rude blast should snap the bough,
and the brood is safe ;"
A COMPARISON. THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream ; The silent pace, with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, no pray’rs persuade to stay ; Alike irrevocable both when past, And a wide ocean swallows both at last,
Though each resemble each in ev'ry part,
ANOTHER. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maidSilent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng; With gentle yet prevailing force,
her destin'd course; Graceful and useful all she does, Blessing and blest where'er she goes, Pure-bosom’d as that wat’ry glass, And heav'n reflected in her face.
THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.
(NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON.
For thee wish'd many a time,
But never yet in rhyme.
More prudent, or more sprightly,
From temper-flaws unsightly.
Can I for thee require,
To thy whole heart's desire ?