TRANSLATED.

FLED is that feason of delight,

In which my heart from morn 'till night

Its fimple story joy'd to tell ;

And you approv'd, and—all was well.

To love, and in offer'd ear

your

Breathe (not unheard) the hope-mix'd fear

Such was my happy lot of yore;

Such lot, alas! is mine no more.

Now all is chang'd; if at your feet

My tender paffion I repeat,

With dull cold smile you bid me rise;

ON LEAVING A FAVOURITE RESIDENCE.

farewell! And with thee too adieu,

Joys left as foon as tasted! They are gone, Even like fome pleasant dream by hafty dawn Scar'd from the lover's pillow: Faft they flew,

And long will they be absent. I meanwhile

(Sooth'd by the memory of the white-arm'd maid,

With whom among thy moonlight scenes I ftray'd) With melancholy minstrelfy beguile

The lonely hour. But me whate'er betide,

Whether on life's tempeftuous ocean toft

Hopeless I view the ftill-retiring coast,

Or my frail bark propitious Tritons guide

DOMINA
NUS TIO
ILLU MEA

Through smiling feas-on Her may profperous fate,

With its long train of changeless raptures, wait!

ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

GROVES, that of late I lov'd so well, adieu!

Dear to my foul, accept its parting figh:

Yet oft fhall Memory your loft fhades review,
Still fhall you flourish to her faithful eye.

There was a time when through your bowers to rove, And with untutor'd fingers touch the lyre;

My breast unvifited of other love,

Than fuch as PH BUS and his train inspire,

Delighted me, Ah! Time of bliss, return

With healing on thy wings!-In vain I cry:

Destin'd in hopeless mifery to mourn,

In vain I roam beneath another sky;

And 'mid new scenes the fugitive explore :
For joy fhall folace this fad heart no more.

WRITTEN AT MATLOCK.

MATLOCK,

as through thy cliff-fprung woods I rove

(Still paufing, while I mufe on Youth's brief day:

How faft his fhadowy raptures fleet away;

How oft his heart, that seat of faithful love,

Is doom'd to love in vain) my anguish'd mind
Sighs to behold in spiral eddies round

Thy foliage, scatter'd by the wild Northwind,
With faded verdure ftrew the fallow ground.

-But 'tis the feason's wreck: Not unforeseen,
The deepening tempeft howls in Autumn's ear;
Me the ftorm blafted, ere I learn'd to fear
Its fatal rage, while yet my leaf was green:

Scarce had my May begun her foft career,
When ftern December clos'd the hafty year.

SONG.

IN times fo long paft (though I ftill am but young)

That I scarcely their transports can trace, Enraptur'd I caught the soft lifp of thy tongue; And totter'd-for then I but totter'd-along, To clasp thee in childish embrace.

As we grew up together, each day I beheld,
With feelings unkindled before,

Thy yesterday's beauties by new ones excell'd;
Nor, boy as I was, from those beauties withheld
My heart :-Could I offer thee more ?

Even now, when the fever of youth is gone by,
And I glow with more temperate fire,

Delighted I dwell on thy foul-beaming eye;

And, heaving perhaps ftill too ardent a figh,

Survey thee with chaften'd defire.

Oh! come then and give me, dear Maiden, thy charms;

For life is alas! on the wing:

Our fummer ere long will be fled; in these arms

Let me shield thee, my Fair One, from winter's alarms:

Oh! liften to love, while 'tis fpring.