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This is the deepest of our woes,
For this these tears our cheeks bedew ; This is of love the final close,
O God! the fondest, last adieu !
TO M. S. G.
WHENEVER I view those lips of thine,
Alas! it were unhallow'd bliss.
For that would banish its repose. -A glance from thy soul-searching eye Can raise with hope, depress with fear; Yet I conceal my love-and why?
I would not force a painful tear.
I ne'er have told my love, yet thou
Hast seen my ardent flame too well;
To make thy bosoin's heaven a hell?
Mine, my beloved, thou ne'er shalt be. Then let the secret fire consume,
Let it consume, thou shalt not know: With joy I court a certain doom,
Rather than spread its guilty glow.
I will not ease my tortured heart,
Each thought presumptuous I resign.
No matron shall thy shame reprove'; Though cureless pangs may prey on me, No martyr shalt thou be to love.
THINK'ST thou I saw thy beauteous eyes,
Which said far more than words can say? Though keen the grief thy tears exprest, When love and hope lay both o'erthrown; Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast
Throbb'd with deep sorrow as thine own.
But when our cheeks with anguish glow'd,
In sighs alone it breathed my name.
Ah! if thou canst, o'ercome regret ;
WHEN I hear you express an affection so warm, Ne'er think, my beloved, that I do not believe; For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm, And your eye beams a ray which can never deceive.
Yet still this fond bosom regrets, while adoring, That love, like the leaf, must fall into the sere ; That age will come on, when remembrance, deploring, [tear;
Contemplates the scenes of her youth with a That the time must arrive, when, no longer retaining [the breeze, Their auburn, those locks must wave thin to When a few silver hairs of those tresses remaining,
Prove nature a prey to decay and disease. 'Tis this, my beloved, which spreads gloom o'er my features,
[decree, Though I ne'er shall presume to arraign the Which God has proclaim'd as the fate of His
[of me. In the death which one day will deprive you
Mistake not, sweet sceptic, the cause of emotion, No doubt can the mind of your lover invade; He worships each look with such faithful devotion,
A smile can enchant, or a tear can dissuade.
But as death, my beloved,
soon or late shall [sympathy glow, alive with such
o'ertake us, And our breasts, which Will sleep in the grave till the blast shall awake [low,When calling the dead, in earth's bosom laid Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of pleasure, [flow: Which from passion like ours may unceasingly Let us pass round the cup of love's bliss in full
And quaff the contents as our nectar below.
OH! when shall the grave hide for ever my sorrow?
Oh! when shall my soul wing her flight from this clay?
The present is hell, and the coming to-morrow But brings, with new torture, the curse of today.
THE FIRST KISS OF LOVE. 'Α Βαρβιτος δε χορδαίς
Ερωτα μουνον ἠχει. -ANACREON.
AWAY with your fictions of flimsy romance; Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove ! [glance, Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.
From my eye flows no tear, from my lips flow Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with fantasy glow, Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove ;
I blast not the fiends who have hurl'd me from bliss ;
For poor is the soul which bewailing rehearses Its querulous grief, when in anguish like this. Was my eye, 'stead of tears, with red fury flakes bright'ning,
Would my lips breathe a flame which no stream could assuage,
On our foes should my glance launch in vengeance its lightning, [rage. With transport my tongue give a loose to its
But now tears and curses, alike unavailing,
Would add to the souls of our tyrants delight: Could they view us our sad separation bewailing, Their merciless hearts would rejoice at the sight.
Yet still, though we bend with a feign'd resignation, [cheer, Life beams not for us with one ray that can Love and hope upon earth bring no more consolation;
In the grave is our hope, for in life is our fear. Oh! when, my adored, in the tomb will they place me, [fled? Since, in life, love and friendship for ever are If again in the mansion of death I embrace thee, Perhaps they will leave unmolested the dead.
STANZAS TO A LADY.
In single sorrow doom'd to fade?
But not thy hapless fate the same.
From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow, [love! Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse,
Or the Nine be disposed from your service to
Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse, And try the effect of the first kiss of love!
hate you, ye cold compositions of art!
Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots
court the effusions that spring from the heart, Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love.
Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes,
Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move : Arcadia displays but a region of dreams :
What are visions like these to the first kiss of love?
Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth, From Adam till now, has with wretchedness
ON A CHANGE OF MASTERS AT A GREAT PUBLIC SCHOOL. WHERE are those honours, Ida! once your own, When Probus fill'd your magisterial throne? As ancient Rome, fast falling to disgrace, Hail'd a barbarian in her Cæsar's place, So you, degenerate, share as hard a fate, And seat Pomposus where your Probus sate. Of narrow brain, yet of a narrower soul, Pomposus holds you in his harsh control; Pomposus, by no social virtue sway'd, With florid jargon, and with vain parade; With noisy nonsense and new-fangled rules, Such as were ne'er before enforced in schools, Mistaking pedantry for learning's laws,
He governs, sanction'd but by self-applause ;
Then share with titled crowds the common lot-
Turn to the annals of a former day;
The gift of riches, and the pride of
On one by birth predestined to be great;
And seek to blast the honours of thy name.
For well I know that virtue lingers there.
Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing day.
At every public school, the junior boys are completely subservient to the upper forms till they attain a seat in the gher classes. From this state of probation very properly, no rank is exempt; but after a certain period, they command in turn those who succeed.
Another view, not less renown'd for wit;
The pride of princes, and the boast of song.
Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue,
Since the same senate, nay, the same debate,
For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught
strain,Oh! if these wishes are not breathed in vain, The guardian seraph who directs thy fate
Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee great.
WRITTEN SHORTLY AFTER THE MARRIAGE OF
HILLS of Annesley! bleak and barren,
Howl above thy tufted shade!
Now no more, the hours beguiling,
GRANTA: A MEDLEY.
This night my trembling form he'd lift
Then would I view each rival wight,
Petty and Palmerston survey;
Who canvass there with all their might,
Lo! candidates and voters lie
All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number:
Lord H, indeed, may not demur;
They know the Chancellor has got
I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later,
The studious sons of Alma Mater.
The Diable Eoiteux of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on an elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection.
He surely well deserves to gain them,
Or agitates his anxious breast
In solving problems mathematic:
The square of the hypothenuse.+
Which bring together the imprudent ;
Who plans of reformation lay:
And for the sins of others pray:
Loud rings in air the chapel bell;
'Tis hush'd-what sounds are these I hear? The organ's soft celestial swell
Rolls deeply on the list'ning ear.
To such a set of croaking sinners.
If David, when his toils were ended,
Had heard these blockheads sing before him, To us his psalms had ne'er descended
In furious mood he would have tore 'em.
• Seale's publication on Greek Metres displays considerable talent and ingenuity, but, as might be expected in so difficult a work, is not remarkable for accuracy.
The Latin of the schools is of the canine species, and is not very intelligible.
The discovery of Pythagoras, that the square of the hypothenuse is equal to the squares of the other two sides of a rightangled triangle.
The luckless Israelites, when taken
Oh! had they sung in notes like these,
But if I scribble longer now,
The deuce a soul will stay to read: My pen is blunt, my ink is low;
'Tis almost time to stop, indeed. Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires! No more, like Cleofas, I fly ; No more thy theme my muse inspires; The reader's tired, and so am I.
ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROWON-THE-HILL.
'Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.'
YE scenes of my childhood, whose loved recollection [past; Embitters the present, compared with the Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were form'd, too romantic to Where fancy yet joys to trace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne'er-fading remembrance, [denied!
Which rests in the bosom, though hope is
Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; [resorted,
The school where, loud warn'd by the bell, we To pore o'er the precepts by pedagogues taught.
Again I behold where for hours I have ponder'd, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard wander'd,
To catch the last gleam of the sun's setting I once more view the room, with spectators
Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o'erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded,
I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone.* Or, as Lear, I pour'd forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters of kingdom and reason deprived;
Till fired by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a Garrick revived.
Mossop, a contemporary of Garrick, famous for his performance of Zanga.
Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you!
Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; Though sad and deserted, I ne'er can forget you:
Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest. To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, While fate shall the shades of the future unroll! [me, Since darkness o'ershadows the prospect before More dear is the beam of the past to my soul. But if, through the course of the years which await me, [view, Some new scene of pleasure should open to I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me,
'Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew!'
OH! did those eyes, instead of fire,
Howe'er those orbs may wildly beam,
That fatal glance forbids esteem. When Nature stamp'd thy beauteous birth. So much perfection in thee shone, She fear'd that, too divine for earth, The skies might claim thee for their own: Therefore, to guard her dearest work, Lest angels might dispute the prize, She bade a secret lightning lurk
Within those once celestial eyes. These might the boldest sylph appal, When gleaming with meridian blaze : Thy beauty must enrapture all;
But who can dare thine ardent gaze? 'Tis said that Berenice's hair
In stars adorns the vault of heaven;
Thy sister-lights would scarce appear: E'en suns, which systems now control, Would twinkle dimly through their sphere.*
WOMAN! experience might have told me,
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return