I am to have him ;—so my friends decided;
The stars knew quite as much of it as I did!
You know him, love ;-he is so like a mummy :—
I wonder whether diamonds will become me!
He talks of nothing but the price of stocks;
However, I'm to have my opera box.

That pert thing, Ellen, thought she could secure him,—
I wish she had, I'm sure I can't endure him!

The cakes are ordered ;-how my lips will falter
When I stand fainting at the marriage altar!
But I'm to have him!-Oh the vile baboon !"
Strange Prologue this for Laura's Honeymoon!

Enough of prologues; surely I should say
One word, before I go, about the play.
Instead of hurrying madly after marriage
To some lord's villa in a travelling carriage,
Instead of seeking earth's remotest ends
To hide their blushes and avoid their friends,
Instead of haunting lonely lanes and brooks
With no companions but the doves and rooks,-
Our Duke and Duchess open wide their Hall,
And bid you warmly welcome, one and all,
Who come with hearts of kindness, eyes of light,
To see, and share, their Honeymoon to-night.

JANUARY 19, 1830.

POEMS WRITTEN IN EARLY YOUTH.

ON PITY.

SWEET is it to the warrior's ear

To mark the clamorous battle But sweeter far the crystal tear

cry,

That falls from Pity's moistened eye; And savage is the cruel beast

That prowls round Gondar's lofty tower,

But harder far that human breast

That ne'er has felt soft Pity's power.

But see, with ostentatious sneer

Will Laura precious gifts bestow; Emilia often sheds the tear,

But Affectation bids it flow.

These do not own compassion's reign;
True pity acts not such a part;
It flies the rich, it flies the vain,—
It dwells in kind Sophia's heart.

Whene'er the poor, worn out with woe,

Oppressed with trouble, years, and grief, From breasts which feel compassion's glow Solicit mild the kind relief,

VOL. II.

R

Then Laura opes her ready hand,
The tear bedews Emilia's eye;
Sophia quits the selfish band

To soothe the pangs of poverty.

Gold can but present help afford;
Emilia's tear is wiped away;
Sophia feels her just reward,

A bliss which never will decay.
This, the reward of virtue, this

Th' unfeeling heart will never know: It is the only earthly bliss

Which is not mixed with earthly woe.

1315.