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"Oh! the fiends!" she exclaim'd, and with wild
BY MISS STRETFIELD.
Distill'd amidst the gloom of night,
Till, notic'd by approaching light,
Morn soon retires: her feeble power
And gently, in benignant hour,
Thus, on Affliction's sable bed,
Condensing round the mourner's head,
Though Pity shews her dawn from heaven,
To Friendship's sun alone 'tis given
Blithe Aphrodite, ever young,
Of purer crystal I am sprung,
And smoother billows fashion'd me.
Cupid and I both bend our bows,
Like him, the fringed brow I seek,
Like him, I pillow on the cheek,
A quiver on his shoulder shines,
In couples, he the young confines;
Of him let head-long Passion learn:
Can you not yet my name discern— I've help'd you, I suspect, to see?
BY ANNA SEWARD.
O! Share my cottage, dearest Maid,
Beneath a mountain, wild and high,
And a clear river wanders by;
Shall chase all future want from thee,
To climb these craggy hills with me.
Far from the City's vain parade
No scornful brow shall there be seen;
Nor Envy base, nor sullen Spleen;
From storms shall guard our sylvan cell,
That loves in peaceful vales to dwell.
When late the tardy Sun shall peer
And faintly gild yon little Spire;
And our clean hearth is bright with fire,
O! they shall drown the wind and rain, E'en till the soften'd Year shall bring
Merry Spring-time back again |
Then hawthorns, flowering in the Glen,
Shall guard the warbling feather'd Throng; Nor boast the busy haunts of Men
So fair a scene, so sweet a song.
And to the sunny shelter bear,
My hands impel the gleaming Share.
Ne'er doubt our wheaten ears will rise,
And full their yellow harvest glow, Then taste with me the sprightly joys
That Love, and Industry bestow; Their jocund power shall banish Strife;
Her clouds no passing day will see, Since all the leisure hours of life
Shall still be spent in pleasing thee.
THE EXCHANGE OF HEARTS.
We pledg'd our hearts, my love and I,
I could not guess the reason why,
Her father's leave she bade me gain;
I went, but shook like any reed!
8. T. C.
On Mrs. De Medina, Wife of Solomon De Medina, Esq. of Stoke Newington,
3Y THE REV. T. MAURICE,
Let shiouded Grandeur o'er her sleeping dust