Oh! hear me, Delia, hear me now,
Incline propitious to my vow,
So may thy charms no changes prove,
But bloom for ever like my love.

EVENING.

ERE night assumes her gloomy reign,
Now shadows lengthen o'er the plain,
We'll to the myrtle grove repair,
For peace and pleasure wait us there.

To some clear river's verdant side,
Do thou my happy footsteps guide,
In concert with the purling stream,
We'll sing, and love shall be our theme.

There lost in ecstacies of joy,

While tenderest scenes our thoughts employ, We'll bless the hour our love begun,

The happy hour that made us one.

1

NIGHT.

NIGHT reigns around, in sleep's soft arms

The village swain forgets his care; Sleep, that the sting of sorrow charms, And heals all sadness, but despair.

Despair alone her power denies,

And, when the sun withdraws his rays,

To the wild beach distracted flies,

Or cheerless to the desert strays.

Mrs. Ruthledge.

ΕΡΙΤΑΡΗ

ON A LADY WHO DIED OF A CONSUMPTION
AT BRISTOL.

WHOE'ER, like me, with trembling anguish brings
His heart's whole treasure to these healing springs;
Whoe'er, like me, to sooth disease and pain,
These healing springs has visited in vain ;
Condemn'd, like me, to hear the faint reply,
To mark the fading cheek, the sinking eye;
From the chill brow to wipe the damps of death,
And watch, in dumb despair, the short'ning breath :-
If chance directs him to this artless line,
Let the sad mourner know his pangs were mine.

Written by her Husband.

M

HYMN TO HEALTH.

BY the gentle gales that blow Refreshing from the mountain's brow, By the vermil bloom of morn, By the dew-drop on the thorn, By the sky-lark's matin lay, By the flowers that blooming May Sprinkles on the meads and hills, By the brooks and fuming rills, Come, smiling Health, and deign to be Our queen of rural sports and glee. What sudden radience gilds the skies! What warb'lings from the grove arise ! A breeze more odoriferous blows! The stream more musically flows! A brighter smile the valley wears! And lo! the lovely queen appears. O Health, I know thy blue-bright eye, Thy dewy lip, thy rosy dye, Thy dimpled cheek, thy lively air That wins a smile from pining care. Soft pinion'd gales around thee breathe, Perfuming dews thy tresses bathe, The zone of Venus girds thy waist, The young loves flutter round thy breast, And on thy path the rose-wing'd hours Scatter their variegated flow'rs.

See! the nymphs and ev'ry swain
Mingle in thy festive train,

With roguish winks, and winning smiles,
And whisp'ring low, and dimpling wiles,
And many a tale, devis'd with care,
To win the bashful maiden's ear;
And sweetly soothing blandishment,
And the coy air of half consent;
And joy, and rose-complexion'd laughter,
With tott'ring footstep following after.
Goddess, ever blythe and fair,

Ever mild and debonair,
Stay with us, and deign to be
Our queen of rural mirth and glee.

Richardson's Rural Pocms.

TO THE VISIONS OF FANCY.

DEAR, wild illusions of creative mind!

Whose varying hues arise to Fancy's art, And, by her magic force are swift combin'd In forms that please, and scenes that touch the heart:

Oh! whether at her voice ye soft assume

The pensive grace of sorrow drooping low;

Or rise sublime on terror's lofty plume,

And shake the soul with wildly thrilling woe;

Or, sweetly bright, your gayer tints ye spread,
Bid scenes of pleasure steal upon my view,
Love wave his purple pinions o'er my head,

And wake the tender thought to passion true:
O! still-ye shadowy forms! attend my lonely hours,
Still chace my real cares with your illusive powers!
Romance of the Forest.

SONNET TO THE LILY.

SOFT silken flow'r! that in the dewy vale
Unfolds thy modest beauties to the morn,
And breath'st thy fragrance on her wand'ring gale,
O'er earth's green hills and shadowy vallies born :

When day has clos'd his dazzling eye,
And dying gales sink soft away;
When eve steals down the western sky,
And mountains, vales, and woods decay;

Thy tender cups, that graceful swell,
Droop sad beneath her chilly dews;
Thy odours seek their silken cell,
And twilight veils thy languid hues.