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Tf W^f a PS S>1i-JiO<^^ $i :.g(l/: M 4.fL 1 ^'-i t V - .J ..If- » ,■ ;i ■•^. "' Clayton & Van Nordeu, PrinterB. \ \ \ ^ m$0 TO THE HONORABLE \ HENRY DILKES BYNG, CAPTAIN, ROYAL NAVY, f HE FOKLOWINO PACKS ARE ISSCRIBED, AS A SMALL, BUT SINCERE TRIBUTE OF ESTEEM. 3oSUS'^0 ■. % ■ijA& ;. ,-^.^:,:„ t t p — ■»■■ ■■ ■ » " ^1 I OOirTBlTTS. ■ Page The Girl I left behind me, 11 Land, 13 Here*a to the eye of sparkling blue, 16 To Clio, 18 Hove him now no more, 90 Sememberest thou our morning sky, 32 Home, 25 Love and the Swallow, 26 Adieu, 28 Tempua fugit, 30 To Mary, 31 Anacreontic, 3* The Pilgrim returning from Mecca's shrine, 36 Anacreontic, 38 Talk not of parting yet, 40 My Country, * 43 The Soldier's grave 43 Oh, dinnaturn awa', . . . , 46 Say not life is a waste of gloom, 48 Isabel, 50 Nay, dream not that time can unri vet 52 ..*-*is»«w«-«*KZ'^ wmm • • • VUl Pagt 'Tis not whon tlio brow ii bright, 55 The moon ii travelling through thobky, 56 Toujoura tidelle, 5T Why ghould'at thou think my heart is changed, . . . . fiO She U gone to the place of her rest, 62 Sacred Melody, 64 Pensees, 6o Where are the kings of former tiinei, 6" Sacred Melody, ^ The Rose thot buds and blooms, 70 'Tis long since we have met, '* Though the cold hand of sickness, "74 Young Love, one eve, with bosom light, 76 Fill uptlie bowl, 78 Anacreontic, 81 Faro thee well, 82 Dear Mary, check that rising sigh, '84 rd wish to bo, 87 If you love, dear, oh breathe not a word, SO Woman, 92 Auld Robin Gray, Fancy not, dear, lean e'er forget, Oh this is love, Stanzas, Adele, 100 102 104 Cuish 100 Page To , jjjg tivreet ittroanilct, 109 When flritt we mot, ujj Think not, doaroHt, • • . 114 To my Carrier Dove, hq When the poor Pilgrim bent with pain, 118 I iaw two young ro§e trees, ]20 Love blooina upon thy cheeii so fair, 122 When the bee neglects to sip, 124 The days are gone, iSQ The Ring 130 The Portrait, 131 Oh, truer is the courtier's tear, 132 Ah, wherefore reprove , 135 Ladies, good bye, 138 Madrigal, 140 Madrigal, 141 Triolet I40 Triolet I43 Epitophs, 144 Epigrams, 148 To Julia, 152 To the Butterfly, 153 Forget me not, 154 To my Lyre, 15-) I mmsc:: : I THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME. Written off the CoMt of Ireland, 1818. Land of my youth— that far away ] Amid the wave's commotion, Now glances to the sun's last ray, A speck upon the ocean. , . Land of my youth, where'er 1 roam, ] What lot soe'er assign'd me, Still, still I'll love the stranger's home, And the Girl I left behind me. ^ 12 At evening, when with richest dye, The god of day is seiting, How can I look on the western sky, The isle of the west forgetting ! And when I view morn's glowing streak. Of what shall it remind me, But the rosy hlush that o'erspreads the cheek Of the Girl I left behind me ? Ii I Swift bounds our ship — the favouring breeze Blows stronger now and stronger ; And now the keen-eyed seaman sees My native hills no longer. Oh, Erin, when — life's struggle o'er — Near man's long rest I find me, My parting breath shall bless thy shore, And the Girl I left behind me. mm $ 13 LAND. It was a gallant ship From England's coast that sail'd ; But tedious was the trip, And every store had faiPd. No hopes of life were given, No rescue was at hand ; Each eye was fix'd on heaven, Each heart on Land. 2 i 14 Nor longer toilM the crew — But some sat pale with grief, And some half listless grew, Impatient of relief ; Some rav'd in wild despair ; Some stood by fear unmanned ; Somegaz'd on vacant air, And mutterM, Land. i There sprang a gentle breeze As daylight died away, And through the glowing seas The vessel cut her way. With hopeless breast aloft The seaboy took his stand, And o'er the waters oft Look'd out for Land. t 15 But long it mock'd his gaze, Till through the starless night The beacon's warning blaze Burst on his rapturM sight. Loud, loud the urchin cried, As the blest ray he scannM j And the faint crew replied, Echoing, Land. Oh, how that shout arose. Soft, sweet, amid the gloom ! It spoke of balm to woes, Deliverance from the tomb. Grief, doubt, despair and fear Forsook the joyous band, As, with a grateful tear, They welcom'd Land. # 16 HERE'S TO THE EYE OF SPARKLING BLUE. Here's to the eye of sparkling blue, Here's to the breast with feeling warm'd ; The cheek as blooming, the heart as true, As man e'er worshipped, or heaven ere form'd. Here's to the auburn locks that twine Their ringlets around thy brow of snow ; And here's to the magic glance of thine. That can heighten pleasure or banish wo. r' I :,' fUj- . 17 They may tell us of planets with moons more bright, And suns more splendid than those we have here ; But while stars like thee illumine our night, Oh, who could wish for a brighter sphere ? lliey may say that man is the child of grief. But never shall we such charge allow, When from fortune's scowl we can seek relief In the smile of beings so pure as thou. >^i I They may preach that by penance alone, and by fast, Must the soul from the dross of this world be refin'd ; But 'twere folly to suffer regret for the past, To tarnish the moments still left behind. Then be ever as now, nor let sorrow fling Its cold cloud o'er thee while youth's thine own : Remember, life's roses, like those of spring, Will wither the soonest when fullest blown. 2* IB TO CLIO. If now 1113' nights be void of rest, They were not always spent in care : If now affliction rule my breast, It did not always rankle there. There was a time — long, long ago, When my bright moments seem'd to fly : But now they move so dark and slow, They almost pause in passing by. There was a time when free 1 rang'd Thro' life's serenest paths — ^but now^ i^ 19 All, all who lov'd me once are changM, And all have fled but only thou. Well, they may change— nor shall the pain I else might feel, affect my heart, If thou amid the wreck remain, Dear, pure and bright as now thou art : Dear as the beam that shines to save— - Pure as the evening's parting light- Bright as the sparkles on the wave. When all around is cloth'd in night. V nafW^*"-' 20 I LOVE HIM NOW WO MORE. He vow'd for me alone to live, He swore to love me, and deceived : I knew 'twas folly to believe, Yet, like a lover, I believed. But I have felt his perfidy, And I have prov'd how false he swore No more his vows have charms for me, I love him now no more, oh no, I love him now p.o more. Should chance at times across my way The footsteps of th' inconstant guide. ft 21 I turn in haste, lest I betray The feelings which 1 fain would hide : For still unconsciously 1 sigh, And still my cheek is crimson'd o'er ; I watch him with admiring eye, But love him now no more, oh no, l^lovehimnow no more. Here is the billet kept with care, In which he callM me first his love -, And here the little braid of hair Which once in playful mood I wove. How soon those moments pass'd away ! Oh, could they wear, as once they wore, Their smiles but for a single day— But no— I love no more, oh no, I love him now no more. 22 remembp:rest thou our morning sk\ Hememberest thou our morning sky, Ere clouds had overcast, When each new sun that flitted by Seem'd brighter than the last : When, tho' some clouds might gather there, And tho' some drops might flow, Still those were not the clouds of care, Nor these the drops of wo ? 23 oft do I muse vt'iih fond delight On all that cheerM me then, And in the shadowy dreams of night, Live o'er those days again : And oft in memory's glass, as now, Thy passing form I see ; As sweet thy smile, as calm thy brow As they were wont to be. And as I gaze, and dread to pari With what is fancy all, Oh, many a sigh would rend my heart. And many a tear would fall — But that so true thy charms appear. 'Twere pity, ere they die, To stain the mirror with a tear, Or dim it with a sigh. n 24 Peace be to thee, who shin'st as far Above the vulgar crowd, As yonder solitary star^ O'er every passing cloud. Peace be to thee — may virtue's rays Long, long thy path adorn, And may the evening of thy days Be pure as was their morn. 25 HOME. When far from thee, my native isle, Along the Diamond Cape I roam. Though grand the scene — my heart the while Loves hest the heath-clad hills at home And when upon that hright cape's side I view the great Saint Lawrence foam. My heart prefers the simple tide That laves its pebbly bed at home. Quebec, 3 .tfl^^ "V^ „v..> 26 LOVE AND THE SWALLOW. When summer foliage glitters, And summer suns are bright, The Swallow round us twitters, And sports him in their light. But when the blast has o'er them past, And summer suns grow dim, Away he flies to brighter skies — 'Tis summer still with him. 27 And Love is like the Swallow : — When beauty's brow is gay, Her glittering train he'll follow, And sport him in the ray. But when the frost of age has crost The splendour of her eyes, He spreads his wings, and off he springs In search of brighter skies. Those summer suns reburning, Will gild the landscape o'er ; The Swallow then returning, Will twitter as before. And will not Love, where'er he rove, To gain his cage endeavour ? No, no — when he once wanders free, Good-bye to him for ever. 28 ADIEU. Adieu to thee, so fond and fair ; Adieu to thee for whom alone This breast could beat, but it must bear The trial firmly as thine own. Adieu to thee, so fond and fair, 'Tis peace of mind whichbidsmeshun thy view Adieu, adieu. Adieu — ^perhaps for life we part- Adieu — ^perhaps for but a day ; And still shall friendship rule the heart Which love for thee must never sway. Adieu — perhaps for life we part — Till thou the flame that wastes us canst subdue, Adieu, adieu. Adieu — I speak it with regret — Adieu — my pen has trac'd the word ; My soul was wavering even yet, When from my lips its doom was heard. Adieu — 1 speak it with regret, But 1 must fly from these dear scenes and you i Adieu, adieu. S* Ji.,.f~.^.^f::;, 30 TEMPUS FUGIT. Less constant than the wind or wave. For these their proper limits have, The stream of time rolls on ; The wind resumes its former track, The wave flows in its channel back, But time's for ever g'^ne, * ■ Why ponder then on future ill, Or dream of past enjoyment still / Let's taste the present hours ; And if this world, as sages say, Be but to other worlds the way, Let's strew the way with flow'rs. '-■,-*»»i"«*"W*ti*.- -r^ivm*-- 31 TO MARY. Oh Mary, life has been, dear, A waste since last I met thee ; And all that I have seen, dear, But makes me more regret thee. While round me flies the social bowl, And all is mirth and glee, love, I turn aside with sickening soul To think on home and thee, love. V 32 V When morn's first beam is breaking Upon the eastern billow, From frenzied dreams awaking, I leave my restless pillow. But ah, from memory's pangs away In vain I strive to flee, love ; Where'er I rove — by night, by day — My thoughts are all on thee, love. Oh Mary, ere we parted, Nor grief nor care had known me ; But now, sad, broken hearted. Even thou might'st well disown me. Tho' thousand beauties meet my eye, Yet what are they to me, love ? Unprais'd, unmark'd, I pass them by — My thoughts are still on thee, love. ■j0tfir'^»^llii*>'^''^>^Ma^fi;r^ ,,«lrfr'^(ta!i«»~«^ 33 Pve been upon the ocean When every wave was sleeping ; When with slow, sluggish motion, Our bark her way was keeping : I've seen the tempest's dreaded form, Dark brooding o'er the sea, love ; And in the calm, or 'mid the storm, My thoughts were all on thee, love. How swift the hours seem'd winging When sweet affection bound us ! Each day, each moment, bringing The friends we lov'd around us. Those friends are far — those days are gone- And gone no more to be, love ; But still while time rolls darkly on, I think on them and thee, love. 34 , / f 1 ■ ;. .ii;i'*,. ^/.c , .. .» » :j %: 3,\ '■ I r: AUtr ii-jiif! I WISH to live, remote from strife, a A life of ease and pleasure ; ff So strove to find what sort of life 2 Affords the greatest measure. I ask'd th' opinion of mj friends, Love, Bacchus, and Apollo : But each a different course commends, And which do you think I follow ? 1 35 Love bids me pay my homage still To beauty night and morning, And Bacchus hiccups " drink thy fill, i A fig for woman's scorning ;" ;ij : Apollo hints that nought but song The wings of time can cripple; So, just to please them, all day long T love, and sing, and tipple. ■i*>*jr#,'i,.v^/' ''/'■"' ■»/' /Vi.. 1'^; ■:n>iv"-l ■!:>f?r;.^ Vt,; -'rf '-J-V^J ,;j' '> ^ ' - '-) •"■ ' .-.• .:■•■ r,.:) ..W-.- ,,!^"^*16- ^■^*=S3Jij^,4y* 36 .1 s, ' I"J ,.r ■{:•': '.;■ ! I ( " '■•'>' !'. ' *f? -'.n viTT, .>;■' >>V » " I . .■■\^ If I ') J f 5 *' THE PILGRIM RETURNING FROM MECCA'S SHRINE. « I l.i. The Pilgrim, returning from Mecca's shrine, Still bears to his home away Some relic to keep by its power divine His footsteps from turning astray. But not the richest display of art, Nor the rarest relic could be More dear to that Pilgrim wanderer's heart, Than this lock of thy hair to me. ■ .ws-iJP^^flWl'- -,. < - 37 The seaman whose ship for a moment veers From the track of her destinM shore, But looks to the star, by which he steers, And it leads to his course once more. So, should I forget thee an instant, and e'er Withdraw me from virtue then, I'll but look on this simple tress of thy hair, And turn to her paths again. 38 ANACREONTIC. Give me wine and give me love, What can rank those joys above ? When the heart grows cold to bliss. . How shall we its fire renew ? Warm it then with woman's kiss, Bathe it with the goblet's dew Give me wine and give me love, What r^n rank those joys above ? 39 Give me love and give me wine, Both are dear and both divine ; This can rouse us — that can tame- Lover, drunkard, time about, With the one 1 raise a flame, With the other put it out. Give me love and give me wine, Both are dear and both divine. 40 TALK NOT OF PARTING YET. i.f - Talk not of parting yet, While rapture holds its sway ; Nor tinge those moments with regret, That flit so swift away. There's not a cloud to-night Betwixt us and the moon, And the stars are hright, thy path to lights Then wherefore part so soon ? Talk not of parting yet, But let us, while we may, The cold unfeeling world forget ; 'Tis ne'er too late to say, I Adieu. 41 Talk not of parting yet, While every thought is bliss ; Oh why should time his limits set To hours so sweet as this ! There's not a zephyr near To chill thy gentle brow ; Nor can thine ear a murmur hear, Save his who whispers now, Talk not of parting yet, But stay — one moment stay — 'Twere better never to have met Than thus so soon to say, Adieu. 4* ,"» .ii».^% - ,. ^%^<. i 42 MY COUNTRY. She pledgM her faith, she broke the phghted vow, And there is nothing left but to forget her ; 'Twas but with her that life was sweet — and now Not long will death permit me to regret her. My Country, thou shalt be my only bride, Thou wilt be true, though all are false beside. i ; '■ New oaths shall bind me soon than those of love : And if a fickle girl could once deceive me, Now, while my country's banner waves above, Glory at least will never, never leave me. My Country, thou art now my only bride, Thou wilt be true when all are false beside. % A -- ■ * . . 43 THE SOLDIER'S GRAVE. I STOOD where commenceth the Christian's pride, And the world's poor pageant closeth ; Where prince and peasant lie side by side, And foe v/ith foe reposeth. ^ 1 stood at the grave — the grave where lay, By its kindred earth-worms courted, The dust of him, who but yesterday In life's gayest sunbeam sported. With fame as spotless, and spirit as light As the plume on his helmet dancing ; 44 And wit as keen, and honour as bright, As the steel from his scabbard glancing. And fast fell the tears of vain regret For the true and the gallant-hearted. As I thought on the hour when first we met. And the moment when last we parted. The moon from cloud to silvery cloud O'er the azure vault was stealing. With soften'd charms from beneath her shroud Her pure, pallid form revealing. So the vestal beams, when — a stranger nigh — She drops with reluctant duty The veil which shadows her flashing eye, But which cannot conceal its beauty. i j-f^' •■»v.»B->tf 45 And still as she pass'd, and her ray so bright She threw where the warrior lay sleeping, She seemM to my fancy a spirit of light, Her watch o'er the dear turf keeping. Peace to thine ashes, young, generous, brave- Fallen in the prime of thy glory ; Thy country's sorrow shall hallow thy grave, And thy name shall live in her story. ftl* 46 OH, DINNA TURN AW A'. Oh dinna turn awa', And leave me thus to pine ; My cot, my gear, I'd barter a' For ae sweet smile o' thine. Though lairds hae sought thy han', We should na therefore part ; For lairds may offer mair o' Ian', But nae sae true a heart. Then dinna turn awa'. VP" I f^~. p I 47 Thine e'c will lose its power — Thy cheek will lose its hue ; Thy laird will seek a fairer flower, And bid thee, love, adieu. Though humble as my sang, I boast a purer flame ; For years hae pass'd — may pass alfing- Thou'lt find me aye the same. Then dinna turn awa'. # I -iff- .---♦■--■ T^y-^iy.-- 48 \^i Ll' ^ SAY NOT LIFE IS A WASTE OF GLOOM. Say not life is a waste of gloom, Where no stars break forth, and no flow' rets bloom. If the stars that have lighted Thy path be gone, If the flowers be blighted That round thee shone, Come then, dearest, come unto me, I'll be the stars and the flowers to thee. VWpavMBaMi^iMMVSBiiqVMa 49 ^ay not love in thy soul is o'er, Or that friendship never can charm thee more. If the voice that could waken Love's thrill be at rest, And if death have taken The friend of thy breast, Come then, dearest, come unto me, ril be the lover, the friend to thee. 5 50 ISABEL. The sword was sheath'd — the war was o'er- And soon beyond the western main Again I trod my native shore, I breath'd my native air again. T reach'd my own beloved bower, Where every flower possess'd a spell To bind my heart — for every flower Reminded me of Isabel. >' l » ■ I " ' r» *0— »■<>— 51 The roses still as brightly bloom'd As when mine eye beheld them last ; As sweet the violet perfiim'd The wings of zephyr as he pass'd ; The streamlet flow'd as softly now As in those days remember'd well ; The very breeze that fann'd my brow. Itseem'd to breathe of Isal cl. And where was she ? — I saw her not — Alas, I ne'er can see her there ! Time, which had spar'd that fairy spot. Had blighted all that made it fair. For this, for this the world I spurn'd, And bade its once lov'd scenes farewell On Heaven alone my thoughts are turn'd. My heart is still with Isabel. 52 NAY, DREAM NOT THAT TIME CAN UNRIVET. Nay, dream not that time can unrivet The chains which afifection hath twin'd ; Or that love, like the vane on its pivot, Will twirl with each changeable wind. Though sunder'd and sad we move on, love. Yet heart still is coupled to heart, And the cords but the firmer are drawn, love, I'he further we journey apart. •xfaMMfB-V^Mla ««»»■-«— wy Ml. iw i m i r. 53 The beacon is dear to the seaman, Which guides him across the dark sea ; And liberty's dear to the freeman, But thou art still dearer to me. Thine accents of peace, wert thou nigh, love, Like balm on my spirit would fall ; Not a cloud should then darken my sky, love, Thy kind glance would scatter them all. Some breasts are like sand in the river, Where every form we may trace. While as quickly its ripples for ever Those short-liv'd impressions efface. But mine's like the stubborn rock, love. Engraved with o?ie image so fair ; And the surge and the tempest's rude shock, love, But stamp it indelibly there. 5* ft^S^a. 54 The last ray the setting sun darted, How brightly it gilded the plain ! Even now, though that sun is departed. The tints of his splendour remain. And thus o'er my memory shone, love, Thy last parting beams of regret ; The planet which shed them is gone, love, But their mild halo lingers there yet. Thca dream not that constancy faltei . If distance be measured between ; Or that love, little innocent, alters His plume with the altering scene. Oh no — for where'er we move on, love, Still heart is united to heart. And the links bu^ ' le firmer are drawn, love, The further we journey apart. * ■jLXa..^ i 55 'TIS NOT WHEN THE BROW IS BRIGHT. f, n 'Tis not when the brow is bright That the heart is still most light ; 'Tis not when 'tis clouded o'er That the heart still feels the more. Tears may flow, Though not of sadness ; Smiles may glow, Though not of gladness ; There are sweetest joys which lie Far too deep for other's eye ; \ There are keenest pangs of wo None but they who feel can know. 56 THE MOON IS TRAVELLING THROUGH THE SKY The moon is travelling through the sky. Without a cloud to dim her path ; A thousand lamps are lit on high, And each a mimic rival hath In the clear wave reflected bright. Oh, often, when, on such a night, Pve floated o^er its breast, and gazM Upon the star that o'er me blaz'd. And then in pensive mood have turned To that which far beneath me burn'd — Fve thought the one was like the beaming Of promisM jojrs still brightest seeming ; The other, twinkling through its tears, Like memory of departed years. •if ^ . . . ., 4- - ^ jLBitA V ^^. ■■wi™...ci:-r' "•^'t.-ui^-ioii ";:jMt.'»f^'A •K. iA„ 57 TOUJOURS FIDELLE. * ToujouRs fidelle, the warrior cried, As he seiz'd his courser's rein, And bending over his weeping bride, He whisper'd the hope which his heart v-anied, That thej soon might meet again. And fear not, he said, though the wide, wide Betwixt us its billows swell ; Believe me, dearest, thy knight will be To France and to honour— to love and to thee. Toujours fidelle. sea w 58 Then proudly her forehead that lady rears, And proudly she thus replied — Nay, think not my sorrow proceeds from fears — And the glance which she threw, though it shone through tears, Was the glance of a soldier's hride. Not mine is the wish to bid thee stay, Though I cannot pronounce, " farewell ;" Since glory calls thee — away, away — And still be thy watch-word on battle day. Toujours fidelle. ' One moment he gaz'd — the lingering knight — The next to the field he sped : Why need I tell of the deadly fight, But to mark his fate ? — for his country's right He battled — and he bled. ■ """^^^'r. -^,.1 ^m.^^'' .11 --■j^- 59 Yet he died as the brave alone can die— The conqueror's shout his knell ; His sleep was the slumber of victory— And for her whom he lov'd his latest sigh. Toujours fidelle. / i 60 iii WHY SHOULD'ST THOU THINK MY HEART IS 1 CHANGED. ■ Why should'st thou think my heart is cliang'd : Why should'st thou say I love thee not : Can love like mine be e'er estrang'd : Can truth like thine be e'er forgot ? Have I not still through wo and weal, Watch'd o'er thee with a brother's care ? Had'st thou a grief I did not feel, Have I a joy thou dost not share ? The subject of my nightly dream, The burthen of my waking thought ; By night, by day, my constant theme — How could'st thou think I lov'd thee not ? 'W. f/l 61 ' '■•»•.> ■/■ i. For thee, when brightest flowers I meet, The blushing garland still I twine ; Whene'er my lips their song repeat, The name they murmur still is thine ; And when my pencil seeks to trace Some angel form, beneath its touch Still spring to life that fairy grace. Those features I have lov'd so much. 1 mourn thee absent — feel wlicii near A rapture none can rank above ; If this be not to love thee, dear. Oh, tell me what it is to love ! 6 62 SHE IS GONE TO THE PLACE OF HER REST. She is gone to the place of her rest, Where sorrow can reach her never; She is flown to the realms of the blest, She is lost to our view for ever. Her dust hath return'd to the earth, Ere the canker of age decay'd it ; And, pure as it came at her birth, Her spirit to Him who made it. ■■^mmmr. J 68 There riseth no marble fair O'er her grave, its memorial keeping: But for her who reposeth there Still many an eye is weeping. There needeth no idle stone To tell of the worth that hath perish'd ; On our hearts 'tis engraven alone, Where her memory long will be cherish'd. r 64 SACRED MELODY Oh Lord, thou hast searched my ways, And hast watch'd o'er my nights and my days, And thou know'st, ere my tongue can impart. The innermost thoughts of my heart. Whither can I turn for a spot Where thy presence, thy sp'rit, is not ! If to Heaven's high courts I repair, Or to Hell's lowest depths — thou art there. On the wings of the morn, if I flee To the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there will thy guidance be found — Thy providence compass me round. K t. 65 Should I aay, " I'll in darkness abide. For surely the darkness can hide ;" Around me thy sunshine shall play, And the night shall be bright as the day : For oh, to thine a//-piercing sight Alike are the darkness and light. But wherefore, my God, should I try From the light of thy presence to fly ? 'Tis to tliee my existence I owe, And the joys from existence that flow ; And His thou that prolongest my days— Oh, let them be spent in thy praisr ! G* Evils surround thee from th/ birth, Vain man — thine hours how few they be ! To-day thou coverest the earth, The earth to-morrovy covers thee. rn : '■' X iME blots out benefits, alas, While injuries his power withstand ; The latter we record on brass — The former register in sand. 67 WHERE ARE THE KINGS OF FORMER TIMES. Where are the kings of former times, The conquerors of the earth, Who stain'd the sceptre with their crimes, Or grac'd it with their worth ? Where are thej now ? — the hand of death Haih crush'd them in their pride ; Their power departed with their hreath — They liv'd — and they have died. w 68 SACRED MELODY. Not unto us, oh Lord, but thee, From whom our various blessings flow, Let praise and glory ever be. Throughout the wond'ring worlds below. Thou reign'st unrivall'd and alone — No arm to stay, no power to bind ; Earth for thy footstool — Heaven thy thronc- The clouds thy car — thy paths the winH. W" Thine is the sun that flames on high, The moon that sheds her milder light . 69 And thine those hrilliants of the skj That sparkle on the brow of night. Thine are the tenants of the stream, The bird whose note all nature thrills ; The insect sporting in the beam, The cattle on a thousand hills. Then not to us of mortal frame, Not unto us be songs of praise : But thee, unchangeably the same, The Ancien* of Eternal dajs. 70 j r •■!, .; ■/'/ 97 By night the storm was gone, The wave had sunk to rest ; / The trembling beam reflected shone On ocean's tranquil breast. Oh thus, cried I, in peace May our night pass away, And thus may all our sorrows cease — My ain auld Robin Gray. 9 98 FANCY NOT, DEAR, I CAN E»ER FORGET. t Tancy not, dear, I can e'er forget Thy smile in the beauties that round me I see : My heart for a moment may wander — ^but yet It returns still the fonder, the truer to thee. The cheeks of our maidens are blooming with youth. And the brightest of eyes in our firmament shine ; But those cannot match the pure blushes of truth. Nor these the intelligent lustre of thine. Then fancy not, dc^r, I can e'er forget Thy smile in the beauties that round me I see ; My heart for a moment may wander — ^but yet It returns still the fonder, the truer to thee. i t 99 r 1 Oh what were the landscape display'd to our sight Though rich as the pencil of nature e'er drew, Were it not for the sunbeam that pierces its night, And calls forth each slumbering beauty to view. 'T would lightly be held— and as lightly we prize, Though aided by all which the heart might control. The fairest of cheeks, or the brightest of eyes, If they be not lit up by the beams of the soul. Then fancy not, dear. I can e'er forget Thy smile in the beauties that round me I see ; My heart for a moment may wander — but yet It returns still the fonder, the truer to thee. 100 r OH, THIS IS LOVE. Oh, this is love — warm, faithful love. Which never knows decay, But still where'er our footsteps i >ve, Adorns and lights our way. Which blooms alike in wo and weal As fearlessly and well ; Which only fondest hearts can feel. And those who feel can tell. I •"T ii 'rr— '" — > ■ ' ' ^ " i ■ ' ■■■ - - W^.V'V4-4» ««.ai'^lik.i.*' 101 Unchanging as the flame that glows In breasts of seraph birth ; And spotless as descending snows Ere stain'd by touch of earth — And bright as yonder arch above, As yonder beacon true ; Oh, this is love— warm, faithful love— The love I bear to you. » - . . ( . 9* ' _.^-r •>^''< ^u-J^^'" ,-^^ iirr\\\''K' ".'Hi v''!;!'"!; *"-!i):iA/' ■■[-> <>': b ':'•';•,.' 1 (j;ii v^/ J'>.;'h'i i 104 ADELE. Oh, long have 1 lov'd my Adele, And her heart paid me still in return Till now she has bid me farewell, Though fondly as ever I burn. I wish to despise her neglect — I wish to become as untrue ; I wish— but whene'er I reflect, I forget what 1 wish'd to do. 1 d 1 105 I wish from her presence to fly ; I wish to remember no more My love or the treachery Of her whom I once could adore. I wish— and if she were not near, Some other, perhaps, I might woo I wish— let Adele but appear, I forget all I wisli'd to do. On my ear when her soft accents break They add to my trouble and pain ; In vain I endeavour to speak, I sigh, and in silence remain. I wish— when I'm far from her spell, That hke her I could cease to be true I wish— but when near my Adele I forget what I wish'd to do. I 106 ml( CUISH LA MA CHREE. When in youth's sunny prime l^houghtless and free, Nature in every clime Burning to see — Erin, I left thy shore muif Roaming each region o'er, 'Twas but to love thee more, Cuish la ma chree. i I'. ' 107 What though on foreign soil Hapless I be, Still doth it sweeten toil Thinking of thee. And when life's ebbing sand Points out its close at hand, Once more I'll seek thy strand, Cuish la ma chree. Thus yonder orb of day Eastward we see, (iild with his morning ray iVIountain and lea ; But at the hour of rest Still turns he tow'rd ttie west, Seeking thy peaceful breast, Cuish la ma chree. I' ': 108 TO i If ever yet a gleam of mirth From my sad bosom banish'd The cares which bow it down to earth, To you alone it owed its birth, And oh, with you it vanish'd. So, while the summer sunbeams play Upon some darkhng river, It warmly flashes back the ray ; But if the beam be turn'd away The tide is dark as ever. , 109 SWEET STREAMLET. Sweet streamlet, flowing on thy way, How much my loi resembles thine ; Thou from thy course dost never stray. And I am constant still to mine. How silently thy waters glide — As silently my moments move ; How pure the crystal of thy tide — As pure for Emma is my love. 10 #- *•■ ,»,„ A ^ '^^"% 110 The storms that vex the prouder wave Thy humble current ruffle not ; So I the storms of fortune brave — They pass me by and are forgot. I I When Emma wanders near to thee Thy breast reflects the portrait fair ; Look into mine, and thou wilt see Her form as truly pictur'd there. Thou hast no deep, deceitful place, And I no deep, deceitful art ; The bottom of thy bed we trace, And read the bottom of my heart. Thy waters still with gentle force Flow onward to their goal — the main, P i Ill Till winter's power arrest their course And bind them with its icy chain. So flow my hopes unceasing on — My Emma's love their only goal ; So will they flow till life be done And icy death arrest my aoul. 112 WHEN FIRST WE MET. When first we met — when first we met — In ringlets curl'd thy jetty hair, And sorrow's tear had never wet Thy cheek, to stain the roses there. But roses there no longer blow, And blanch'd are now those locks of jet. For sorrow's tear hath learn'd to flow Since first we met — since first we met. pm 113 When first we met — when first we met — Thine eye was like the falcon's bright ; And care had never dared to set His seal upon thy brow of light. Those eyes, so dim and wasted now, Their former power almost forget ; And care hath furrow'd o'er that brow Since first we met — since first we met. When first we met — when first we met — Thy heart could feel another's grief ; And feels it not as warmly yet — As warmly glows to grant relief? It does, it does — that generous tear^- Then why thy fleeting charms regret, Since thou art still as truly dear As when we met — when first we met. 10* >:, .•-)! «,. ^^._-OI-. #-♦ .^ ^ 114 THINK NOT, DEAREST. Think not, dearest, that my love Is but light and ranging ; Every change it soars above, In itself unchanging. Sorrow may my heart depress, Pleasure may elate it ; This can ne'er my love increase — That shall ne'er abate it, dear, That shall ne'er abate it. § When our prospects bode no ill Then may love seem weakest ; 115 But his strongest, purest still When our hopes are bleakest — As those meteors which illume Heaven's horizon nightly, From amid the deepest gloom Sparkle forth most brightly, dear, Sparkle forth most brightly. And as age but makes the vine, Whose young tendrils wander Round the sapling's stem, entwine Fonder there and fonder — So my breast for thee retains The Jirsl love that bound it ; Time can onl> twine the chains Still more firmly round it, dear. Still more firmly round it. {i li •> 116 TO MY CARRIER-DOVE. *' On Saint Valentine's eve every true knij^lit will dream of liiii Ladyo-lovc, and every Ladye uf her truBtie Knight; moreover, they will whiBpo' from their sleepe the names of the persons so dreamo( of."— Uftfoy on Dreams- i Away, away, my carrier-dove, Thy lord's behest to bear ; To-night love rules below, above, Arc'ind and every where. 117 The youth will dream with pure delight Of ti.e maid whom he loves so well ; And th' unconscious maid will reveal to-night What to-morrow she'd blush to tell. Away, away, my carrier-dove, Nor stay thy snow-white wing Till you reachthecouch where my own dear love Lies sweetly slumbering. And when from amid her tranquil rest She breathes to Saint Valentine The name of him whom she loves the best. Oh, list if she whisper mine. t" ". -:if -:"'?/j.. ij t 118 WHEN THE POOR PILGRIM, BENT WITH PAIN. When the poor pilgrim, bent with pain, Foresees his parting moments nigh, He seeks to reach that sacred fane Which heard his earliest vows — to die. He stops not in his path — though there The brightest flowers their sweets display ; Though richest altars court his pray'r He turns not from his constant way ; But worn with toil, and weak with fast, And wasted by meridian fires, He gains the sacred fane at last, And bending at its shrine — expires. 119 Thus I, whose course of joy is o'er, Havf sought, ere life be spent, to bow Before that spotless shrine once more Where first I breath'd my morning vow. Though altars that might well have vied Even with mine own around me shone, My heart hath never turn'd aside ; But, restless still, I've wander'd on. Till now in all its pomp divine The wish'd-for fane at length I see. And lowly bending at its shrine, Breathe forth my soul — adoring thee. ■'•CRssaNvsar-' 120 I SAW TWO YOUNG ROSE TREES. t f ', HBikJ I SAW two young rose trees, that wav'd in the blast. Their briars and their blossoms so fondly entwine ; I saw them, the moment the tempest swept past, Part coldly for ever, nor seem to repine. And I thought of the hearts that had flourishM like them, And like them too, in wo had united their frame As closely as if they had sprung from one stem — Their joys, and their hopes, and their sorrows the same : Yet, soon as adversity's trial was o'er, Had parted as widely, as coldly as those ; ^^ kh^- 121 Forgotten each tie that had bound them before, And from dearest of friends become rankest of foes* And I could not but marvel that they whom the hour Of peril had mov'd not — thus calmly should part •, But it is not the tempest that cankers the flow'r, And it is not affliction that changes the heart. Nojtheflow'retwill live through the cold dews of night. And bloom forth at morning more blushing and fair ; But if noon pour around it its fulness of light, It will pine on the stem, and lie withering there. And the soft joys of pleasure that breast will disarm Which had never been quell'd by adversity's fears : As the mist that unshaken has weather'd the storm, By the first gleam of sunshine is tum'd into tears. 11 '"Tn-mrTiri— 122 r>>. LOVE BLOOMS UPON THY CHEEK SO FAIR. L ' t ^ Love blooms upon thy cheek so fair. And sparkles in thine eye ; He wantons in thy flowing hair, And breathes in every sigh. He gives thy voice its melting tone — He gives thy mien its grace ; But in thine icy heart alone He never finds a place. 123 MR. I'll bow no more, as I have done, At shrines so cold the knee ; ni sing no more of love for one Who will not list to me. Thus, thus for ever do we part— And thus 1 break the chain Which once you bound around my heart, But ne'er cun bind again. t^'iii_jm I «M II I i !i ' ■I \1 i 124 WHEN THE BEE NEGLECTS TO SIP. When the Bee neglects to sip Sweets from every flow'ret's lip ; When the golden child of day Turns her from the worshippM ray Then farewell to thee, dear ; But till bees no longer rove, And till sun-flowers cease to love. Faithful will I be, dear. :-H 125 When the breeze that o'er her blows Wafts no perfume from the rose ; When the minstrel of the shade Pours not forth his serenade, Then farewell to thee, dear ; But till rosy odours fail. And till mute the nightingale, Faithful will 1 be, dear. When the dove with anxious breast Broods not o'er her downy nest ; When the crystal stream no more Mirrors the o'erhanging shore, Then farewell to thee, dear ; But till then — through joy and wo, Winter's chill and summer's glow, Faithful will I be, dear. i^^ 11* r-H V, r:X.-;-4^.;,., '■ »-^ w I m tmmii m m jf y"* ^SUmB^mtm 126 (, 1 li I } THE DAYS ARE GONE. > <■(,,' The days are gone — for ever gone — Ere fancy taught my heart to rove ; When the pure dame that led me on Was kindled at the shrine of love. When nature wore her brightest smile, And pleasure knew of no alloy ; When every breast was free from guile, And every cheek was flush'd with joy- 127 I mingled with the careless throng, I sported in th' enlivening ray ; To love I tun'd my matin song, To love 1 breath'd my vesper lay. Bright eyes and sunny looks were there. And cheeks unsullied by a tear ; My heart acknowledged all were fair, Yet only one of all was dear. And can I ne'er those hours renew, Life's sweetest hours ? and is there none To love as thou wert wont to do — .^ To cheer as thou wouldst now have done ? No— life is but one dull, dark night Of cloud sand misery — for thou, Brightest of all that made it bright, Even thou hast set in darkness now. ■"w li ■MMWMMi k f. ;* ' 128 And faithful memory, while she grieves At the review of former years, And casts her weary glance o'er leaves Deform'd by blots, or stain'd with tears ; Turns fondly to that sacred spot, That page from stain or error free, Which tells of moments ne'er forgot Of love, and happiness, and thee. Of thee and love too wild to last — Oh tell me not that beams which flow From memory of pleasure past Can shed a light o'er present wo. Alas, those very beams instead But make our present gloom ihe worse ; When joy is flown and hope has fled, Then even memory proves a curse. ' •'. .V V? 129 To feel that beauty once has blest The heart she ne'er can bless again ; That pleasure's cup has once been prest To lips that now are parch'd with pain. That every dear and cherisliM bliss Has vanished like a morning dream ; When memory teaches only this, How sweet were Lethe's fabled stream ! 130 i t '/. r I !: r; '^ \ 1 I THE RING. The ring you gave — that simple ring Might well thine emblem be ; No gems around it glittering In proud array we ; ee : But all is modest to the si&;ht. Yet sterling in degree ; As virtue pure — as honour bright — Like thee, my love, like thee. 131 THE PORTRAIT. When to the Graces' wondering view Young Love, one day, unfolded The portrait of that form so true Which his own hand had moulded. 'Tis mine, His mine, Thalia cries, That air so arch and simple 5 Aglaia claims the laughing eyes— Euphrosyne the dimple. But Love who, with a roguish smile, Had listen'd to each stricture, Thus spoke, their claims to reconcile- It is my Julia's picture. i 132 OH, TRUER IS THE COURTIER'S TEAR. Oh, truer is the courtier's tear Shed o'er a fallen tyrant's bier ; Truer the praises poets sing, Or sighs, or vows — or any thing Above, below — divine or human- Than woman — fickle, faithless woman. Turn from her sparkling orbs of blue. And gaze not on her cheek's soft hue: Within no lights of genius spring — No mental rose is blossoming. 133 So day's warm beams may gild the tomb And sweetest flowers around may breathe. Yet can they not impart their bloom, Their spirit to the dust beneath. Fly from her smile — though bright and wai m 'Tis false as sunbeam 'mid the storm. When the pure, transient gleam is gone More darkly rolls the tempest on ; And thus when woman's smile is o'er, Her frowns grow darker than before. And though her bosom seem to be The dwelling-place of purity, Yet feeble there is reason's ray And passion holds unbounded sway. 12 134 = i So Etna rears her smiling crest And seems all hush'd in sweet repose. While pent within her raging breast The quenchless flame for ever glows. fe'*; lfl!( I, ( Then rather trust the courtier's tear Shed o'er a fallen tyrant's bier, Or praise that hireling poets sing, Or sighs, or vows — or any thing, Above, below — divine or human — Than woman, — fickle, faithless /voman. Or ijH 135 AH WHEREFORE REPROVE. ^ Ah wherefore reprove My words of love, And whisper thus, " fie for shame," my dear ; If shame there be In adoring thee, You have none but yourself to blame, my dear. Or why should your cheek Such anger bespeak ; — I ask but the loan of a kiss, my dear. And I know that thou art Too tender of heart To deny such a trifle as this, my dear. 136 i. [. The zephyr of spring Still scents his wing I rom the rose-bud he passes o'er, my dear ; And steals as he flies Her balmiest sighs, Yet the flow'ret is sweet as before, my dear. And so with ease If beauty please, From the lips where such treasures are left, my dear. Can love purloin The richest coin, And no one discover the theft, my dear. Then keep not thus Such a terrible fuss. Nor torture your sweet little mind, my dear, "^ p ■iitni1'*^B)i-'- 137 ir. With the idle fear That if lips come too near Some trace may he left behind, my dear. But pray incline Your cheek to mine — There's nobody nigh to see, my dear ; You'll never miss The borrowed kiss, And oh, 'twill be precious to me, my dear. ^ w -~f!^H"--v .i#-~ - ti! 138 P 1 ^ I I I LADIES) GOOD BTB. Ladies, good bye To your arts and wiles ; No longer care I For your frowns or smiles. Gone are the days When woman could sway me. When a smile could raise Or a frown dismay me. :-' ,. 1 f r\ i- ..■—■' "" ""♦li?^'r.''^'''''«»-*(**j^»*»"!i^ I 139 In vain, as of old, Love's torch brightly shineth. Or his bands of gold The little god twineth. In vain pleasure layeth Her toils around me, Or beauty displayeth The charms that once bounds me. Unheeded they kneel, And unheeded they warble : My breast is of steel — And my ears are of marble. So, ladies, goodbye To your arts and wiles ; Little care I For your frowns or smiles. i.. .^-^WNfc-J*.'*** ' ^. 140 MADRIGAL. I WOULD have begg'd of Love to be The bearer of my vows to thee, But that I fear'd the treacherous elf. When he had once beheld thine eyes Would have forgot my tears and sighs. And wooed thee only for himself. 141 MADRIGAL. Oh no, I will never love more — I swear as I've sworn before ; — Since vanity, pride, caprice In the most of thy sex are met ; Since one never could live in peace With a prude or a pert coquette ; Oh no — I have argued it o'er — No, no, I will never love more — Any but thee, Lisette. 142 TRIOLET. TO THREE SISTERS. f^ ai ■ I Sister Graces, among you three To which shall I mv heart surrender? Little of choice is left to me Sister Graces, among you three — Each has her claims — my love must be Of temper mild, and of soul most tender Sister Graces, among you three To which shall I my heart surrender '! 143 TRIOLET. To guard her flock and guard her heart Is too much for a shepherdess ; 'Tis no such very easy part To guard her flock and guard her heart ; When swains assail the one with art, And wolves with force the other press. To guard her flock and guard her heart Is too much for a shepherdess. m 144 i [. , I EPITAPH ON A LAWYER. Header, there sleeps beneath this stone A Lawyer, and an honest one ; — If thou hast e^er been doomM to know The plagues with which a lawsuit's tainted. Draw near and o'er him vent thy wo ; But if perchance thou'rt unacquainted, Pass on — pray heaven to keep thee so. 'f» 145 * EPITAPH ON DR. ited. Our Doctor's gone, but ere he went He kept us in terrorem, And half the neighbourhood he sent To clear the way before him. 13 146 i i I EPITAPH ON A SCOLD. Here rests in death, thank God, my wife, A thing she never did in Hfe ; ; , 'Twere needless, i;eader, to repine — She takes her ease and gives me mine. 147 EPITAPH ON A BON-VIVANT. On downy wings my years flew on — Years of pleasure ' And years of whim ; Till death vouchsaf'd to think of one Who never found leisure To think of him. 148 EPIGRAM. IN VINO VERITAS. Truth, says the proverb, 's in our cup — And truth should be the search of youth ; So while I quaff my nectar up I'm only searching after truth. i ^m 149 EPIGRAM. GREECE. Greece, though in these our latter ages So vaunted for her learned schools, Could only number seven sages — How rich she must have been in fools ! . ;i 13* n i jr.. I' I 150 EPIGRAM. i i HEART AND BODY To a Lady who had stolen the former. «, . i It is not right old friends to part, And these we well may call so ; Then, Lady, give me back my heart. Or take my body also. ■ iJ' ^ i ~^ '^^■^ 151 ! EPIGRAM. jENEAS. f 1 1 \ When he, the prince of Ilion, as we read, Snatch'd from the flames the author of his life, Heaven strove to recompense the generous deed- He sav'd his father, and he lost — his wife. 152 TO JULIA, ■: Little Love in his wantonness playing, To lodge in my breast was beguil'd ; And Venus, alarm'd at his straying, Now offers a kiss for her child. Shall I give up the boy ? — will no other With an offer more tempting entice ? Oh thou whom he'd take for his mother, Wilt thou buy him at Venus's price ? «• * ,»rt-«--.^i«».--'^ A 153 TO THE BUTTERFLY. ^' Butterfly on wanton wing Round and round inconstant roving, Tasting all the sweets of spring, Ever changing, ever loving ; Little epicure in hliss, Still thou bear'st from flower to flower Brightest smile or sweetest kiss, As the trophy of thy power. Who would spurn so rich a trophy ? Who such pleasures could decry ? — Had I never met my Sophy I'd have been a Butterfly, A ->*!«*iBaiMMmiRM 154 FORGET ME NOT. " Forget me not, although we part — To think thou wert untrue ^ r ' Would break the fond, confiding heart, Which only beats for you." ' f^ ' 1 - I ■ . * ' ' ' •' Oh let this dark, foreboding fear, This sorrow be dismiss'd ; For see — lest I forget thee, dear, I've plac'd thee on my hst." — f ' --H»--r-"'' 155 TO MY LYRE. From thee, my lyre— as one who bids adieu To some dear friend he ne'er again shall meet ; Some friend, whose counsel kind and converse sweet Had shed a charm o'er moments as they flew Which else had loiter'd on with leaden feet — From thee 1 part for ever. Thou to me Did'st oft in wo thy soothing influence lend ; Amid the wilds thou wast society — Among the faithless thou wast still a friend. 156 But the world calls me from thee, and we part, And to another's touch thy chords must swell ; No more their tones shall vibrate through my heart. No more my ear must listen to their spell ;— Farewell, beloved lyre— for ever fare thee well. t ^f rt.