페이지 이미지
PDF

IMITATION OF SECUNDUS.

KISS THE SIXTH. BY EDMUND L. SWIFT, ESQ.

For a sweet memorandum, two thousand sweet kisses,
Between us divided, we took and we gave:

I own, you have made up your number of blisses,
But is Cupid of cold calculation the slave?

When I walk in my meadows, the grass shall I measure;

And hope for my harvest so much, and no more? When expecting my vines, shall I limit their treasure;And call in my bees by the ten and the score?

When rushes the hailstorm, or patters the shower, Who curiously numbers the drops as they fall?

Or the leaves of the tree, or the tints of the flower? And where were the profit to number them all?

And thou, my fair Goddess, oh, fairer than Venus!

Why bound thy delights, and thy beauties divine! Why number so nicely the kisses between us,

Yet tell not these tears and these sorrows of mine?

Oh number my tears and thy kisses together!

All tears, and all kisses—no tear, and no kiss: For both should injustice be number'd, or neither:

Is my anguish unbounded!—oh bound not my bliss! 1804.

[graphic]

ADDRESS TO A BLACK KITTEN.

BY WILLIAM PRESTON, ESQ.

Sable sprout of feline stem,
Curling tail, and eyes of gem;
Sportive creature, frank and free;
Oh that I could leap like thee!
Oh that I as little thought,
With what evil life is fraught.
Thou, secure of daily bread,
Hourly coax'd, and duly fed,
Basking in the sunny ray,
Giv'st thy life to sleep and play.
Thou art amiable, and bland,
Plaything of a female hand,
Still untaught to spit and growl,
Or murder sleep with midnight howl.
Thou hast felt no conflict rude,
Nor thy paws in blood embrued:
Velvet unpolluted still,
Scarce their stroke a fly would kill.
Thus enjoy the present hour,
Soon to feel Misfortune's power.
Thus, in youthful revelry,
Chace thy tail, or hunt a fly.
Fate is lab'ring for thy bane;
Tangled in the web of pain,

[ocr errors]

Thou shalt, like thy master, find
Pangs the lot of living kind;
From philosophers that rise,
Rapt in musing, to the skies,
To the snail upon the wall,
To the hairy worms that crawl,
All the lot of Sufferance know,
Meet at every step a foe.
Sable sprout of feline stem,
Curling tail, and eyes of gem,
Living toy, thy doom fulfil:
Sport—to-morrow brings thee ill.
Boys, the scourges of thy race,
May thy steps terrific chace.
Fate may tempt thee to the glade,
Where the trap for fox is laid.
Thou may'st feel the cruel shears
Crop thy goodly tail and ears.
Many a foe, in witching mood,
Thirsts unceasing for thy blood;
Black Cat's blood, a potent charm
In the spell for good and harm!
Oft I've heard its virtues told,
By the wither'd crone and old,
While, with chattering teeth, and pale,
Men and maids believ'd the tale.
Thou may'st look for warlike fame,
Thou at blood-stain'd trophies aim;
Those engage in mortal fight,
Rats, tremendous in their might.
Like some Amazon of yore,
Who the brunt of battle bore,
Maim'd and limping from the war,
Thou may'st bleed, with many a tear.

Sportive use the present hour,

Soon to feel Misfortune's pow'r.

Thou, remote from pitying eye,

May'st unwept, unburied lie.

Love, the bane of living things,

Hovers round with cruel wings. #

Tempted by the call of love,

Thou shalt for adventures rove;

When the elegiac note,

Gurgles trembles in the throat.

Tho' with sober air and wise,

Now you sit and wink your eyes.

Mild as maiden of fifteen,

In her mother's presence seen,

Not unheard the call resounds;

Rushing forth, with sudden bounds,

O'er the gutters, o'er the tiles,

Scale the roof, and thrid defiles;

Where, beneath the moon's pale ray,

Tabby belles and lovers play,

Join the merry-making throng,

Swell the treble of the song;

Where they court and where they scold,

O'er our heads high converse hold.

Many a sleepless night and long

Have I heard your Orthian song.

And perhaps a kindred lure,

Shall entice the maid demure,

Quitting the maternal wing,

With some rake to take her fling.

Pass the follies of a night,

Both shall mourn in piteous plight;

Faded ev'ry virgin grace,

Squalid coat, and haggard face;

Maul'd by many a whisker'd jaw,
Scratch'd by many a grizzle paw,
Both to the parental home,
Shall with cries repentant come;
Mournful cries, and looks of pain,
And admittance seek in vain.

But suppose propitious Fate
Should restore thy former state,
Sorrows of another kind
Soon shall agonize thy mind.
By Lucina's timely aid,
See the tabby brood display'd;
Thou in tender state shalt lie,
All the mother in thine eye,
Proud of the maternal care,
Find thy young as angels fair.
Thine is transitory pride,
Joy to sorrow near allied.
How, alas, can I relate
What must be thy offspring's fate!
Tis a story full of fear,
Tale too sad for tender ear!
See the Cook and Scullion come,
To the pond thy younglings doom.
Here concludes the moral lay,
Thou pursue thy tail, and play,
Sportive use the present hour,
Soon to feel Misfortune's power.

« 이전계속 »