TO A LADY IN ILLNESS.

NEW to the world, when all was fairy ground,
And shapes romantic swam before my sight,
Thy beauty caught my soul, and tints as bright,
And fair as Fancy's dreams, in thee I found:
In cold Experience when my hopes were drown'd,
And life's dark clouds o'er-veil'd in mists of night
The forms that wont to fill me with delight,
Thy view again dispell'd the darkness round.
Shall I forget thee, when the pallid cheek,

The sighing voice, wan look, and plaintive air,
No more the roseate hue of health bespeak?
Shall I neglect thee as no longer fair?

No, lovely Maid! If in my heart I seek,
Thy beauty deeply is engraven there.

ON MUTUAL LOVE.

OH Love, requited Love, how fine thy thrills,
That shake the trembling frame with ecstacy;
Ev'n every vein celestial pleasure fills,
And inexpressive bliss is in each sigh;
In the tranc'd ear aërial music trills,

Fairies enchanted radiance round supply,
Nectar divine the magic cup distills,

And heavenly figures dance before the eye:

The dear adored Beauty, who in tears,

Seen through her smiles, has charm'd the Lover's woes, An angel not of earthly mould appears;

And spreads enchantment wheresoe'er she goes.

Oh Heaven, kind Heaven, that joy like this would last! But bliss is not for earth; clouds rise, the vision's past.

ONCE more,

A FAREWELL.

enchanting Girl, adieu! I must be gone, while yet I may, Oft shall I weep to think of you; But here I will not, cannot stay.

The sweet expression of that face,
For ever changing, yet the same,
Ah no, I dare not turn to trace:
It melts my soul, it fires my frame !

Yet give me, give me, ere I go,
One little lock of those so blest,
That lend your cheek a warmer glow,
And on your white neck love to rest.

- Say, when to kindle soft delight,
That hand has chanc'd with mine to meet,
How could its thrilling touch excite
A sigh so short, and yet so sweet?

O say-but no, it must not be,
Adieu, enchanting Girl, adieu!

- Yet still, methinks, you frown on me; Or never could I fly from you.

TO MARY IN HEAVEN,

THOU lingering Star, with lessening ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,

Again thou usher'st in the day

My MARY from my soul was torn.O Mary dear departed Shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy Lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

That sacred hour can I forget,
Can I forget the hallow'd grove,
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met
To live one day of parting love!
Eternity will not efface

Those records pure of transports past;
Thy image at our last embrace-

Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!

Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild-woods thickening green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twined amorous round the raptur'd scene;
The flowers sprung wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray,
Till too, too soon the glowing West
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.

Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,
And fondly broods with miser-care;
Time but th' impression deeper makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear!
My Mary-dear departed Shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?

See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

THE SORROWS OF MEMORY.

IN vain to me the howling deep

Stern Winter's awful reign discloses ;: In vain shall Summer's zephyrs sleep On fragrant beds of budding roses : To me alike each scene appears,

Since thou hast broke my heart, or nearly ;.

While Memory writes in frequent tears,

That I have lov'd thee-very dearly!:

How many summers pass'd away,
How many winters, sad and dreary;
And still I taught thee to be gay,

Whene'er thy soul of life was weary:
When lingering sickness wrung thy breast,
And bow'd thee to the earth-or nearly;
I strove to lull thy mind to rest-

For then I lov'd thee-O! how dearly!

And though the flush of joy no more
Shall o'er my cheek its lustre throwing,
Bid sensual fools that cheek adore,
And talk of passions-ever glowing;
Still to thy mind should time impart
A charm, to bid it feel sincerely,
Nor idly wound a breaking heart-

That lov'd thee long-and lov'd thee dearly.

Could gold thy truant fancy bind,

A faithful heart would still content me;
For, O! to gain that heart unkind,

I gave thee all that fortune lent me :
In youth, when suitors round me press'd,

Who vow'd to love, and love sincerelyWhen wealth could never charm my breast, Though thou wert poor,-I lov'd thee dearly.

Seek not the fragile dreams of love,
Such fleeting phantoms will deceive thee;
They will but transient idols prove,

In wealth beguile, in sorrow leave thee:
Ah! dost thou hope the sordid mind,
When thou art poor, will feel sincerely?

Wilt thou in such that friendship find,

Which warm'd the heart that lov'd thee dearly

Though fickle passions cease to burn
For her so long thy bosom's treasure ;
Ah! think that reason may return,
When far from thee my paths I measure:
Say, who will then thy conscience heal,

Or who shall bid thy heart beat cheerly?
Or, from that heart the memory steal

Of her who lov'd thee long and dearly?

When war shall rouse the brooding storm,
And horrors haunt thy thorny pillow;
When fancy shall present my form,

Borne on the wild and restless billow;
O! where wilt thou a mistress find,

Whose pulse, like mine, shall throb sincerely? Or who thy heart in spells shall bindWhen her's is broke that lov'd thee dearly?

When thou contending throngs shalt court, Where party zeal has doubly crown'd thee, Perchance of fortune's frowns the sport, Caprice or cold neglect may wound thee:: Then wilt thou find no generous heart

To bid thee bear misfortune cheerly;

No friend in grief to bear a part,

Like her who lov'd thee long and dearly.

Could I to distant regions stray,

From thee my thoughts would never wander;

For, at the purpling close of day,

By som lone vagrant rill's meander,

Each wandering bee, each chilling wind, Would tell the heart that's broken nearly,

In them, where'er they rove, to find

The faults of him I lov'd so dearly!