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And when the moon, with languid beams,
O’er some sequefter'd valley gleams,

In antic sports 'tis thy delight
To join with elfin bands, who bound

With printless footsteps o'er the ground,
And give to revels all the tranquil night.

Or with cherubic forms to rove
The misty hill, or shadowy grove,

Or lightly skim the gay parterre,
With kisses greeting every flow'r

That decks the meads, or mid the bow'r, Diffuses fragrance thro' the ambient air.

0! spirit of the western gale,
Whene'er I tread the dewy vale,

Or by the streamlet liftless lie ;
On me thy tend'rest care employ,
To raise my drooping frame to joy,
With fanning wings around me often fly.

J. J. PEAT.

DE

ON LOVE, WRITTEN AT THE DESIRE OF SOME LADIES*,

EAR Girls, you request me to write,

On a subject I little do know;
But if you, who have felt, would indite,

To be sure my cold bosom must glow.
There are some I have heard who declare,

And with them I'm inclin’d to agree, Whether black, brown, ugly, or fair,

Its the same for Love never can fee;
That its not in the delicate form,

Or the roseate hue of the skin,
Which in mortals thould kindle the flame;

But the MIND that's incircled within.
* Two of the Ladies are about to be married

The casket indeed may be

mean, Yet if it encloses a soul, Those who find it need never complain,

Who feel it, would grasp at the whole. With emotions like these I now feel,

A dear object so true could I find; Though balhful I would not conceal,

And I surely must tell her my mind. For ’tis VIRTEE alone will remain,

When youth and when beauty are gone; To possess such a nymph I will aim,

And my charmer and I Thall be one. Now ladies, pray take my advice,

Your lover's true character scan; Tho'wit, and tho' humour the senses may please,

'Tis the MIND that ennobles the man. London, July 2, 1798.

S. S.

TO CYNTHIA.

And rob’d in heav'n's transparent dye;
O'er this dark world thy chariot steer,

With mild sereneness through the sky.
Courting the lone sequester'd shade,

Where eve may cast her pearly dew;
Thy orb Thall o'er the tinctur'd glade

A thousand silvery tapers strew.
And pleas'd with thy benignant smile,

While stillness rules each leafy haunt;
In nature's gay untutor'd style,

Coy Philomel may breathe her chaunt.
But now scarce does the echoing vale,

The richness of its bloom display;
Nor is the warbler's simple tale,

Attun'd to thee in fondcit lay.

And favour'd with a sable gloom,

While blows the gale with midnight breath,
Mourn'd shades forsake their darkling tomb,

The agents to approaching death. ,
Ah! rise again, with brighten'd beam,

On night's full wing thy radiance throw;
Loft in expanse man's wav'ring dream,

May fortly cease to hail thy glow.
Manchester, 1798.

HA

TO CHEERFULNESS.
ASTE, bright-eyed fair one, hafte away,

From warlike camps, and ball-rooms gay;
The iprightly dance, the fife and drum
Suffices there; Oh! charmer come
From these gay scenes, and those of strife,
And breathe in me thy breath of life.
Then, though I liv'd in some poor cot,
Or though a prison were my lot,
With honour blest, and blest by thce,
I ftill should happy, happy be.
June 11, 1798.

EDWARD

THE COMPLAINT.

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To fit, and hear the melancholy roar
Ot the deep-sounding ocean—there my sighs
Shall join the winds which from the far wave rise,
With whistles, long and dreary şthere my woe
Shall groan despondance to the deep below,
And call the tear, doom'd, ever doom'd to flow.

No more, the world's big pag'antry thall charm,
The worm of anguish, or its fangs disarm,
Ah! no, the sublunary pomp is mean,
Where cold disguft embitters ev'ry scene,

Farewell for ever, gay-rob’d mirth, farewell,
Lo, pining Mis’ry loaths thy nectar'd spell,
Thy air-wrought spell, which dies when care pervades,
As dawn-appall’d the night-yawn'd spectre fades.
Then may the wretch, whose only joys were thine,
Awake to sigh-and foster woes like mine.
Ah! they admit no friendly beam to cheer,
Pale melancholy's spurn’d, unpity'd tear.

J. DAVIS.

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Two lovers lay exchanging vows,

Philander, and his lovely maid. Not am'rous less than Eden's pair,

Soften'd by sweet embraces each; Strangers to discontent and care,

But what love makes, their breasts could reach. « O Sylvia," said the enraptur'd swain,

« When first thy form divine I view'd, Transport then rush'd thro' every vein,

And instant love my heart subdued. My bosom felt a flame, the effect

Of outward charms beyond compare ; But 'twas thy MIND with graces deck'd,

That fed the flame and fix'd it there, Bereft of thee, all earth could give,

Would ne'er restore my peace of mind, Poffeft of thee, content I'd live,

Live the moft happy of mankind.” « Philander dear," the maid return’d,

When big with love her breast had sigh’d; Long has my heart with passion burn'd,

Tho' long my constant (wain I've try'd.

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At every rural walk my eye

Still thee preferr'd, no youth could move; The tender look, the expressive ligh,

'Tis you, my swain, I fill approve." “ If so,” resum'd the exulting youth,

" Why put we off the nuptial day? 'Till Aceting years and posting age,

Our relish for such bliss destroy. Hafte, then, and let connubial hands,

Bind deareft Sylvia to my heart; Hafte- let us join our hearts and hands,

Which nought but death itself can part. The blushing nymph consents to go

With her Philander to be bleft ; The joys the two admirers know

Are felt-but ne'er can be expreft.

ON ETERNITY.

BY J. G.

BEING ONE OF THE FIRST PRODUCTIONS OF HIS

YOUTHFUL MUSE.

TERNITY, thou vast unfathom'd deep,

From what vast fountain didit thou first derive
Thy undiminish'd food? What potent voice
Arm'd with the pow'r to form thy ample bed,
First bade thee take thy everlasting flow
And stream unebbing an incessant round?
Lost in the wild intricacy of thought,
Ah! whither would my muse transport herself?
Ah! whither would the range in quest of thee?
No source haft thou, and no beginning knew,
But self-existent in one constant sphere
Has flow'd perpetual-time that now exists,
Is but a spring, that will return to thee:

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