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SWEET Moon ! if like Crotona's sage, *

By any spell my hand could dare
To make thy disk its ample page,

And write iny thoughts, my wishes there ;
How many a friend, whose careless eye
Now wanders o'er that starry sky,
Should smile, upon thy orb to meet
The recollection, kind and sweet,
The reveries of fond regret,
The promise, never to forget,
And all

my heart and soul would send To many a dear-loved, distant friend !

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Pythagoras; who was supposed to have a power of writing upon the moon by the means of a magic mirror.-See BAYLE, art. Pythag.

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Oh, STRANGFORD! when we parted last, I little thought the times were past, For ever past, when brilliant joy Was all my vacant heart's employ: When, fresh from mirth to mirth again,

We thought the rapid hours too few, Our only use for knowledge then

To turn to rapture all we knew ! Delicious days of whim and soul !

When, mingling lore and laugh together, We lean'd the book on pleasure's bowl,

And turn’d the leaf with folly's feather! I little thought that all were fled, That, ere that summer's bloom was shed, My eye should see the sail unfurl'd That wafts me to the western world!

And yet 'twas time-in youthful days,
To cool the season's burning rays,
The heart may let its wanton wing
Repose awhile in pleasure's spring,
But, if it wait for winter's breeze,
The spring will dry, the heart will freeze !

And then, that Hope, that fairy Hope,

Oh! she awaked such happy dreams, And gave my soul such tempting scope

For all its dearest, fondest schemes, That not Verona's child of song,

When flying from the Phrygian shore, With lighter hopes could bound along,

Or pant to be a wanderer more


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Even now delusive hope will steal
Amid the dark regrets I feel,
Soothing as yonder placid beam

Pursues the murmurers of the deep,
And lights them with consoling gleam,

And smiles them into tranquil sleep! Oh! such a blessed night as this,

I often think, if friends were near,
How we should feel, and gaze with bliss

Upon the moon-bright scenery here !
The sea is like a silvery lake,
And o'er its calm the vessel glides
Alluding to these animated lines in the 44th Carmen of

Jam mens prætrepidans avet vagari,
Jam læti studio pedes vigescunt!

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this poet :

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