2

The heart may let its wanton wing
Repose in Pleasure's soft'ning spring;
But, if it wait for Winter's breeze,
The spring will dry, the heart will freeze!
And then, that Hope, that fairy Hope,

Oh! she awak'd such happy dreams,
And gave my soul such tempting scope
For all its dearest, fondest schemes,
That not Verona's child of song,

When flying from the Phrygian shore, With lighter hopes could bound along, Or pant to be a wanderer more?!

Even now delusive Hope will steal
Amid the dark regrets I feel,
Soothing, as yonder placid beam

Pursues the murmurers of the deep,
And lights them with consoling gleam,
And smiles them into tranquil sleep!

Alluding to these animated lines in the 44th Carmen of this Poet:

Jam mens prætrepidans avet vagari,

Jam læti studio pedes vigescunt !

Oh! such a blessed night as this,

I often think, if friends were near, How we should feel, and gaze with bliss Upon the moon-bright scenery here! The sea is like a silvery lake,

And, o'er its calm the vessel glides Gently, as if it fear'd to wake

The slumber of the silent tides!

The only envious cloud that lowers,

Hath hung its shade on Pico's height3, Where dimly, mid the dusk, he towers, And scowling at this heav'n of light, Exults to see the infant storm

Cling darkly round his giant form!

Now, could I range those verdant isles,
Invisible, at this soft hour,

And see the looks, the melting smiles,
That brighten many an orange bower;

3 Pico is a very high mountain on one of the Azores, from which the Island derives its name. It is said by some to be as high as the Peak of Teneriffe.

And could I lift each pious veil,

And see the blushing cheek it shades,
Oh! I should have full many a tale,
To tell of young Azorian maids'.

Dear STRANGFORD! at this hour, perhaps,
Some faithful lover (not so blest
As they, who in their ladies' laps
May cradle every wish to rest,)
Warbles, to touch his dear one's soul,
Those madrigals, of breath divine,
Which Camoens' harp from rapture stole
And gave, all glowing warm, to thine!
Oh! could the lover learn from thee,

And breathe them with thy graceful tone,
Such dear, beguiling minstrelsy

Would make the coldest nymph his own!

But, hark!—the boatswain's pipings tell 'Tis time to bid my dream farewell :

I believe it is Guthrie who says, that the inhabitants of the Azores are much addicted to gallantry. This is an assertion in which even Guthrie may be credited.

5 These islands belong to the Portugueze.

Eight bells!—the middle watch is set;
Good night, my STRANGFORD!-ne'er forget
That, far beyond the Western Sea

Is one, whose heart remembers thee!

STANZAS.

Θυμος δε ποτ' εμος.........

.................με προσφωνει ταδε·
Γίνωσκε τανθρώπεια μη σεβειν αγαν.

Eschyl. Fragment.

A BEAM of tranquillity smil'd in the West,

The storms of the morning pursued us no more, And the wave, while it welcom'd the moment of rest, Still heav'd, as remembering ills that were o'er!

Serenely my heart took the hue of the hour,

Its passions were sleeping, were mute as the dead, And the spirit becalm❜d but remember'd their power, As the billow the force of the gale that was fled!

;

I thought of the days, when to pleasure alone
"My heart ever granted a wish or a sigh ;
When the saddest emotion my bosom had known,
Was pity for those who were wiser than I!