Aw'd by stern Honour's watchful spies,
Dull formal rules I'm forc'd t' obey;
Like dungeon-slaves, my hasty eyes
Just snatch a glimpse of cheerful day.

Absent, the desert walks I view;
Here went Eliza, there she came :
With tears my lonely couch bedew,
And, dreaming, sigh Eliza's name.

"Where is his soul," the women cry,

"The stupid lump! the lifeless earth!" "Where," say the men, "his brisk reply, His crimson glass, and noisy mirth!"

Hast thou not mark'd my burning kiss, My lawless pulse, my bounding heart? How oft when, wild for farther bliss,

All trembling from thy arms I start?

Ah, spotless Fair! too well I find

My passions strong, my reason frail:
Ah! can I stain that angel mind;
And, Virtue lost, let Love prevail?

No! down in shades below we'll rove,
A glorious miserable pair,

Gaz'd at through all the myrtle grove
For burning love and chaste despair!

Say, if thou lov'st, did ever youth,

That wish'd like me, like me endure; Dost thou not blame this swainish truth, And wish my flame were not so pure?

In pity hate me, tempting Fair!
An happy exile let me fly:

What feverish wretch his thirst can bear,
That sees the cooling stream so nigh!

Oh! I shall all my vows unsay,

If once I gaze-my blood will glow; This virtuous frost will melt away, And Love's wild torment overflow.

THE QUESTION.

ADAM from Paradise exil'd,

His heart with anguish torn,
Rov'd sorrowing o'er the dreary wild,
Abandon'd and forlorn.

So I, excluded from my Dear,
To woods despairing go;
Like his, my punishment severe ;
Nor less my weight of woe.

This renders my affliction more,
Though less perhaps my sin,
An Angel drove him from the door,
An Angel tempts me in!

Our crimes, since thus our sufferings suit, More parallel should lie :

He tasted the Forbidden Fruit,

Alas!-why should not I?

ON A KISS:

PHILOSOPHERS pretend to tell,
How, like a hermit in his cell,
The soul within the brain does dwell:

But I, who am not half so wise,

Think I have seen't in Chloe's eyes;
Down to her lips, from thence, it stole,
And there I kiss'd her very soul!

ODE.

CY A LADY, ON OBSERVING SOME WHITE HAIRS UTON THE HEAD OF HER HUSBAND.

THOU to whose power reluctantly we bend,

Foe to life's fairy dreams, relentless Time, Alike the dread of lover and of friend,

Why stamp thy seal on manhood's rosy prime? Already twining 'mid my Thyrsis' hair,

The snowy wreaths of age, the monuments of care.

Through all her forms, though Nature own thy sway,
That boasted sway thoul't here exert in vain ;
To the last beam of life's declining day,

Thyrsis shall view, unmov'd, thy potent reign.
Secure to please, whilst goodness knows to charm,
Fancy and taste delight, or sense and truth inform.

Tyrant! when from that lip of crimson glow,

Swept by thy chilling wing, the rose shall fly;
When thy rude scythe indents his polish'd brow,
And quench'd is all the lustre of his eye;
When ruthless age disperses every grace,
Each smile that beams from that enchanting face-

Then through her stores shall active Memory rove,
Teaching each various charm to bloom anew,

And still the raptur'd eye of faithful Love
Shall bend on Thyrsis its delighted view;

Still shall he triumph with resistless pow'r,

Still rule the conquer'd heart to life's remotest hour!

ADDRESSED TO A LADY KNOWN FROM INFANCY.

IN times so long past (though I still anı but young)
That I scarcely their transports can trace,
Enraptur'd I caught the soft lisp 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 soul-beaming eye;
And, heaving perhaps still too ardent a sigh,
Survey thee with chasten'd desire.

Oh! come then and give me, dear Maiden, thy charms,
For life is, alas! on the wing:

Our summer, ere long, will be fled; in these arms
Let me shield thee, my Fair-One, from winter's alarms :
Oh! listen to love while 'tis spring.

DIRECTIONS TO THE PORTER.

THOU faithful guardian of these peaceful walls,
Whose zealous care protects thy master's gate,
If any stranger at this mansion calls,

I'll tell thee who shall enter, who shall wait.

If Fortune, blindfold goddess, chance to knock,
Or proud Ambition lure me to her arms,

Shut, shut the door, good John! quick turn the lock;

And shield thy master from their syren charms.

If sober Wisdom hither deigns to roam,
Nor let her in, nor send her quite away;
Tell her, at present I am not at home,

But hope she'll call again another day.

If at my door a beauteous Boy be seen,

His little feet have oft my threshold trod, You know the offspring of the Cyprian queen, His air-without his bow-bespeaks the god :

His gentie smiles admittance ever win ;

Though oft deceiv'd, I prize the fond deluder! Morn, noon, and night, be sure you let him in, For Love, dear Love, is never an Intruder.

TO HIM WHO SAYS HE LOVES.

You tell me, that you truly love;

Ah! know you well what love does mean? Does neither whim nor fancy move

The rapture of your transient dream?

Tell me, when absent, do you think
O'er ev'ry look, o'er ev'ry sigh?

Do you in melancholy sink,

And doubt, and fear, you know not why?

Do you, when near her, die to say

How much you love; you cannot tell?
Does a look melt your soul away?

A touch, your nerves with transport swell?

Could you for her, fame, wealth despise,
In poverty and toil feel blest;
Drink sweet delusion from her eyes,
And smile at ruin on her breast?