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-cry,
But sweeter far the crystal tear

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,

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.

(1815.)

ON THE DEPARTURE OF AN OLD HOUSEKEEPER.

'Tis past; and since she is forever fled,
With all her by-gone blunders on her head,
Let not the laugh, the sneer, pursue her still,
Nor mark her failings, where she meant no ill.
Cease now her foibles, Ridicule, to tell;
Let Gratitude declare-she loved us well.

Can we forget, now when for aye we part,
Her charity, the goodness of her heart,