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'PO E T R Y..

her lote.

Hary's address to Jane,on consi- Mine enemies were far away. dering her encouragement to hope for

How happy. I saw thy face, then look'd again,

And rapiur'd, gaz'd on lovely jane, The sprightls vigoor of my youth is ded, Lonely and sick on death is all my thought

Forgetting all my former paint. Oh spare, Persiphone, chis guiltless bead,

How happy. Love, too much Love, is all thy suppli. ants fault.

I fancied, oh delusive thought, Hammond's Love Elegy, No.4. fancied lane with love was fraueht.

And had not yet "her Hal” forgot ; OH Jenny, when in other days,

How happy. 1 sang in humble hoping lays, Thy name, deserving every praise. I spoke my love, I hop'd the besi,

How happy. And now with joy her heart addressid,

I thought with Jane, I'd soon be blest'; While yet I hop'd to meet thee where,

How happy, With joy and pride I could appear, And whisper love into thine ear. Hear it ye winds that pass me by,

How happy. And thro' the world incessant Ay,

Proclaiin this sorrow speaking sigh; Each morn“I rose with jocund glee,”

How alier'd. Each morning then was kind to me, And when I thought on meeting thee. My Jane, whose love I ever sought, How happy. Whose heart could ne'er by gold be

bought, The day arriv'd, the wish'd for day, Has now ler Henry's love forgot. Within me shone a pleasivg ray,

How wretched.


WHERE Welch and Irish raise a Babel din ;
Where balmy sweels unite with stink of Gin;
Where, to ensure the crowded City health,
The fertile fields bestow their double wealin,
And pour profuse, from Dairies and from Dells,
A fresh supply of Nymphs and Nonpareils ;
But where too soon they lose (both fruit and fuir)
Their native virtues with their native air ;--
lo short, where Covent-Garden spreads her stores,
And mingles healing herbs with sickly —_,
True to the strange confusion of the place,
Twin Temples stand, in architect'ral grace,
Here, all that's opposite in nature join,
Sorrow and Mirth, Folly and Wit combine ;


· While nor a laugh, and now a tear betray

The changing humours of an April day,
Here rival Goddesses pre er their claim,
And wars fo: doubifui empire fiercely tlame;
Here, SENSE and Nonsense struggle for ihe field,
Scorping aiike to compromise or yield;
They form their Troops, their banners stream on high,
And Wits with Fools in arduous contest vie ?

Say, mighiy NONSENSE, who and what they are,
That range in ranks around ihy leader car
Whose “Grey Goose Quills, :heir weapons of offence,
Wave in rebellion 'gainst the laws of SENSE :
Who scorn her mandates, and who mock ber rules,
And glory in the well earn d name of Fools.

First in the throng, see ve'ran REYNOLDS stand,
The hoary Nestor of the foolish band..
He heeds not critic wrath, but wisely weighs
“ His solid pudding against empty praise;"
Vaunts, with complacent pride, to starvling wights,
How much he pockets, and how much he writes ;
Quires upon quires proclaim his genius great,
But must be valued, not by wit, but weight;
His teeming Muse, with embryo fancy big,
Special to breed, or, rather say to pigi
Disiends her womb, to cave a feeble race.
Whose life we only by their death can trace ;
Whose lasi sobs mingle with their new-born sighs,
Who open but to close their languid eyes;
While this now hailing first the orient sun,
Treads on the heels of that whose course is run.

But outrag'd Nature, who doth still ordain,
Her laws imunotable, nor made in vain,
Siamps with deformity th' untimcly brood,
Marks them for bastards, monstrous, wild, and crude.
Light without euse ; gay without wit-the Elves
Are like no earthly objects but themselves.

REYNOLDS' best jokes lie in the actors faces,
Who rival Clown Grimaldi in grinaces ;
His happiest turns, that cail down loud applause,
Are but the twistings of poor MUNDEN'S jaws;.
His strange surprizes cannot be forescen,
Conceal'd they squat, bevind a chimney screen;
To scan his plots ihe wisest is not able,
Till the o'er turning of some Pembroke table.
Should of his Jests the point not plain appear,
A pair of spectacles will make it clear,

All who have eyes his humours understand,
And ex’n the blind cap feel it with their hand.

Such is the Goddess' first and fav’rite Son,
Who scours the field with foppery and fui
Her staunchest champion in ev'ry stage,
Hippant in youth, and foolish in old age !


BENEATH this leafy shade I'll lye,

And tell my sorrows to the wind,
Yon gliding stream shall bear my cry,

To her who used me too unkind.
I'll call remembrance to my aid,

And dwell on every early scene,
Where Ellen, lovely haughty maid,

In dalliance sweet with me had been.
Swe well I recollect the day,

i When first fair Elien's face I saw,
When first I felt her pleasing sway ;

O'er my poor heart extend its law.
How oft by Nora's shelv'ing side,

With hands entwin'd, adown we stray'a
Whilst all the little songsters vied,

To please and dulcer greeting paid.
As placid as calm Nora's wave,

The joyous hours old time did roll,
When Ellen in soft accents gave,

A hope that I'd possess her soul.
Th'impassion'd touch th'extatic kiss,

The nameless joys that lovers know,
I feli-yes more than angels bliss,

A bliss unmingled then with woe. .
Ab what a charge am I to bear,

How sad a doom am I to mouro,
Fair Ellen from my soul to tear;

Is more than can by me be borne.
Man, brutal man, why didst thou make,
· It ever shameful to be poor ;
The naked heart we will not take,

But wealth must be the sordid lure.
Ellen is rich and I have nought,

And her proud parents mę despise,
A noble soul with toodnesa fraught

Is mockery only in their eyes.

That That Ellen loves her Henry still,

Unmov'd by gold I'd fondly say, '
But no! my misery's mead to fill;

Her hand she soon will give away.
Farewell then all ye early loves,

Ye pristine innocent delights;
Yon streams farewell, farewell ve groves,

Abode of all my frolic Rights.
Then let me solitary tread,

Life's rugged, sunless, sullen way,
Till down I lay my wearied head

And Death's dark night shall close my day.

" To Mrs. B-, of Trim, on the sudden Death of her beloved Child."

WERE I to strive, to sooth thy sorrowing breast.
I'd tell thee Curoline is now at rest,
Remov'd from misery and certain woe,
Which all experience while they live below;
I'd tell thee, “ Caroline" is now carest,
By Saints above, and ranges with the blest
Of God, th' eternal and delightful plains,
Where God the Saviour in full glory reigns ;
I'd tell thee Caroline now joins the Choir,
Filld with the pure and Heavenly fire,
And strikes (in extacy) the joyous Lyre.

But first of all, I'd tell thçe, thou shalt see
Thy darling Child when thou from earth art free,
Shait see her, know her, ne'er again to part;
And thus ['d sooth the sorrows of thy heart.


A Fragment.

NEAR where with proud imperions mieni,
Yon verdant hill hangs o'er the plain,
In trees en wrapt a villa lies,
The seat of all on earth I prize,
Nine long long mcons have gone their round,
Since I have trod this much lov'd ground;
Nine ages to my heart they seem,
So slow steals on Tigre's sluggard stream,
And oh ! if those so drear appear
How will I live life's tedious year,
Henceforth when no joy.cheated hour,
Shall e'er be passed in that sweet bor's;


When ne'er again th’entrancing smile,
Of her I love shall time beguile,
When ev'n the heart which once was mine,
She'll soon to sume proud swain resign,
Distraction ! O when low'rs that day
Its eve shall close o'er my cold clay ;
For then my frenzied maddened sense,
To hell itself would fly far hence.


When last by th

Ere fate gave

ER E I left the green fields where my forefather's dwelt,

In the tumult of cities to rove,
In silence whisper'd the passion I felt,

And dear was the promise of love.
On her cheek stood the tear drop which inocence shed,
From the fountain of purity drawn;

the tear disappear'd as the passing blush filed, Like the glow that encrimsons the dawn. En last by the wild waves of Cowan we stray'd e fate gave the signal to part, . st the wind of the west in her light tresses play'd,

ow dear was the sigh of the heart. nd, M aid, when I forleit the promise I gave, in the circles of falsehood to rove,

the heart which I pledg'd by the white-rolling wave, ever beat to the transport of Love.

May the bea


Translated from the Irisli.
GIVE me a kiss before you go,

And then we'll part for ever :
I little thought she would do so

May all the Saints in Heaven forgive her!
The kiss I felt whole weeks and days,

And yet it made my bosom shiver;
She fled, and left me in amaze :--

May all the Sainis in Heaven forgive her.
Oft have I travers'd hills of snow,

Oft have I cross'd the dreadful river,
To press that check where roses blow:-

May all the Saints in Heaven forgive her!
And yet, perhaps, she may relent,

And cheer me once agaille--llo never-
The greatest Sinner may repenicon
May all the Saints in Heaven forgive her.

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