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MARIAN'S COMPLAINT.

JOHN WOLCOT.

Since truth has left the shepherd's tongue,
Adieu the cheerful pipe and song;

Adieu the dance at closing day,
And, ah! the happy morn of May.

How oft he told me I was fair,
And wove the garland for my hair!
How oft for Marian cull'd the bower,
And fill'd my lap with every flower!

No more his gifts of guile I'll wear,
But from my brow the chaplet tear;
The crook he gave in pieces break,
And rend his ribbons from my neck.

How oft he vow'd a constant flame,
And carv'd on every oak my name!
Blush Colin that the wounded tree
Is all that will remember me.

INVITATION TO CYNTHIA.

JOHN WOLCOT.

Come, Cynthia to thy shepherd's vale,
Though tyrant winter shade the same;
The leafless grove has felt his gale,
And every warbler mourns his reign.

Yet what to me the howling wind?
Thy voice the Linnet's song supplies,
Or what the cloud to me who find
Eternal sunshine in thine eyes.

WHEN FIRST UPON YOUR TENDER CHEEK.

MRS. BARBAULD.

Born 1743-Died 1825.

When first upon your tender cheek
I saw the morn of beauty break
With mild and cheering beam,

I bow'd before your infant shrine,
The earliest sighs you had were mine,
And you my darling theme.

I saw

you in that opening morn

For beauty's boundless empire born,
And first confess'd your sway;
And ere your thoughts devoid of art,
Could learn the value of a heart,
I gave my heart away.

I watch'd the dawn of every grace,
And gaz'd upon that angel face,
While yet 'twas safe to gaze;
And fondly bless'd each rising charm,
Nor thought such innocence could harın
The peace of future days.

But now despotic o'er the plains
The awful noon of beauty reigns,
And kneeling crowds adore;

These charms arise too fiercely bright,
Danger and death attend the sight,
And I must hope no more.

Thus to the rising god of day
Their early vows the Persians pay,
And bless the spreading fire;

Whose glowing chariot mounting soon
Pours on their heads the burning noon,
They sicken and expire.

WHEN FIRST I SAW THEE GRACEFUL MOVE.

When first I saw thee graceful move,

Ah me! what meant my throbbing breast? Say, soft confusion, art thou love?

If love thou art, then farewell rest!

Since doom'd I am to love thee, fair,
Though hopeless of a warm return,
Yet kill me not with cold despair;
But let me live, and let me burn.

With gentle smiles assuage the pain
Those gentle smiles did first create :
And, though you cannot love again—
In pity! oh forbear to hate.

VOL. I.

HAD I A HEART FOR FALSEHOOD FRAM'D.

R. B. SHERIDAN.

Born 1751-Died 1816.

Had I a heart for falsehood fram'd,
I ne'er could injure you :

For tho' your tongue no promise claim'd,
Your charms would make me true.
you no soul shall bear deceit,

Το

No stranger offer wrong;

But friends in all the ag'd you'll meet,

And lovers in the young.

But when they learn that you have blest
Another with your heart,
They'll bid aspiring passion rest,

And act a brother's part.

Then, lady, dread not here deceit,

Nor fear to suffer wrong:

For friends in all the ag'd you'll meet,
And brothers in the young.

[In the Duenna.]

THOU CANST NOT BOAST OF FORTUNE'S STORE.

R. B. SHERIDAN.

Thou canst not boast of fortune's store,
My love, while me they wealthy call,

But I was glad to find thee poor,
For with my heart I'd give thee all,

And then the grateful youth shall own,
I lov'd him for himself alone.

But when his worth my hand shall gain,
No word or look of mine shall show,
That I the smallest thought retain
Of what my bounty did bestow,

Yet still his grateful heart shall own,
I lov'd him for himself alone.

[Sung by Louisa in the Duenna.]

WHEN SABLE NIGHT.

R. B. SHERIDAN.

When sable night, each drooping plant restoring,
Wept o'er the flow'rs her breath did cheer,
As some sad widow o'er her babe deploring,
Wakes its beauty with a tear;

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