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Renounce the world--the preacher cries.
THE FIRM RESOLUTION.
Yes, you may sigh, and pout, and fret!
Vain are your efforts to secure me; For since, at last, I've broke the net,
There's nothing shall again allure me.
Not the dark lustre of those eyes,
At once so brilliant and so tender, Though by each glance a lover dies,
Shall make my heart its peace surrender.
Nor care I for those coral lips,
Nor cheeks suffused with blushes roseal, Though he who tastes them surely sips
Of more, far more, than sweets ambrosial,
So free am I, that e'en thy voice,
Whose tones might charm the angry ocean,
Wakes in my breast no wild emotion.
That once before in bondage brought me.
R. A. DAVENPORT.
I AM not of their mind who say
cry, 'what happy times were those
Nature, still changing, still the same,
Though spleen and vapours there were none,
Thus far in preface.—Now I'll tell
Their suit was granted—up they came New liveried in sulphur flame, With licence through the realm to range; But, with their power, their name they change. Magic no longer now is seen, And what was Witchcraft once, is Spleen: Yet still they most delight to vex, As first they did, the female sex ; And still, like an old witch's charm, They tease, but have no power to harm.
Though doctors otherwise have told,
REV. W. CROWE.
LOVE OUT OF PLACE. I'm a boy of all work, a complete little servant,
Though now, out of place, like a beggar I rove; Though in waiting so handy, in duty so fervent, The Heart (could you think it) has turned away
Love! He pretends to require, growing older and older,
A nurse more expert his chill fits to remove, But sure every heart will grow colder and colder
Whose fires are not lighted and fuel'd by Love! He fancies that Friendship, my puritan brother,
In journeys and visits more useful will prove; But the heart will soon find, when it calls on
another, That no heart is at home to a heart without love!
He thinks his new porter, grim-featured Suspicion, Will Falsehood and Pain from his mansion reprove;
[mission But Pleasure and. Truth will ne'er ask for ad.
If the doors of the heart be not opened by Love!
Too late he will own, at his folly confounded,
My skill at a feast was all praises above;
The heart will soon find all his influence falter,
By me, by me only that influence throve; With the change of his household his nature will alter,
[Love! That heart is no heart which can live without
HON. W.R. SPENCER.
TO LADY ANNE HAMILTON.
older. more, colder
Too late I staid, forgive the crime,
Unheeded flew the hours;
That only treads on flowers !
ther, rove; Is on
What eye with clear account remarks
The ebbing of his glass,
That dazzle as they pass ?
cion, n re-sjon
Ah! who to sober measurement
Time's happy swiftness brings,
HON. W. R. SPENCER.