The voice of the one upon earth, who has twined With her essence for ever my heart and my mind! Though lonely and far from the light of her smile, And exile and weary and hopeless the while,

Could you shed for a moment that voice on my ear,
I will think at that moment my CARA is near,
That she comes with consoling enchantment to
speak,

And kisses my eyelid and sighs on my cheek,
And tells me, the night shall go rapidly by,
For the dawn of our hope, of our heaven is nigh!

Sweet spirit! if such be your magical power,
It will lighten the lapse of full many an hour;
And let Fortune's realities frown as they will,
Hope, Fancy, and CARA may smile for me still!

PEACE AND GLORY.

WRITTEN AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE PRESENT WAR.

WHERE is now the smile that lighten'd

Every hero's couch of rest?

Where is now the hope that brighten'd

Honour's eye and Pity's breast?

Have we lost the wreath we braided

For our weary warrior men ? Is the faithless olive faded,

Must the bay be pluck'd again?

Passing hour of sunny weather,
Lovely, in your light awhile,
Peace and Glory, wed together,

Wander'd through the blessed isle. And the eyes of Peace would glisten, Dewy as a morning sun,

When the timid maid would listen
To the deeds her chief had done.

Is the hour of dalliance over?

Must the maiden's trembling feet Waft her from her warlike lover To the desert's still retreat? Fare you well! with sighs we banish Nymph so fair and guest so bright; Yet the smile, with which you vanish, Leaves behind a soothing light!

Soothing light! that long shall sparkle O'er your warrior's sanguine way,

Through the field where horrors darkle,
Shedding Hope's consoling ray!

Long the smile his heart will cherish,

To its absent idol true,

While around him myriads perish,

Glory still will sigh for you!

To

To be the theme of every hour

1801.

The heart devotes to Fancy's power,
When her soft magic fills the mind
With friends and joys we've left behind,
And joys return and friends are near,
And all are welcomed with a tear!

In the mind's purest seat to dwell,
To be remember'd oft and well

By one whose heart, though vain and wild,
By passion led, by youth beguiled,
Can proudly still aspire to know
The feeling soul's divinest glow!
If thus to live in every part
Of a lone weary wanderer's heart;

If thus to be its sole employ

Can give thee one faint gleam of joy,
Believe it, MARY! oh! believe

A tongue that never can deceive,
When passion doth not first betray
And tinge the thought upon its way!
In pleasure's dream or sorrow's hour,
In crowded hall or lonely bower,
The business of my life shall be,
For ever, to remember thee!

And though that heart be dead to mine,
Since love is life and wakes not thine,
I'll take thy image, as the form
Of something I should long to warm,
Which, though it yield no answering thrill,
Is not less dear, is lovely still!
I'll take it, wheresoeer I stray,

The bright, cold burthen of my way!
To keep this semblance fresh in bloom,
My heart shall be its glowing tomb,
And love shall lend his sweetest care,
With memory to embalm it there!

SONG.

TAKE back the sigh, thy lips of art
In passion's moment breathed to me;
Yet, no-it must not, will not part,
'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,
And has become too pure for thee!

Take back the kiss, that faithless sigh
With all the warmth of truth imprest;
Yet, no-the fatal kiss may lie,
Upon thy lip its sweets would die,

Or bloom to make a rival blest!

Take back the vows that, night and day,
My heart received, I thought, from thine;
Yet, no-allow them still to stay,
They might some other heart betray,
As sweetly as they've ruin'd mine!