In every kiss shall stamp on thee
A seal of immortality!

Fly to the cave, Alphelia, fly;

There lose the world and wed the sky!
There all the boundless rapture steal
Which gods can give or woman feel!-

WOMAN.

AWAY, away-you're all the same,
A fluttering, smiling, jilting throng!
Oh! by my soul, I burn with shame,
To think I've been your slave so long!

Slow to be warm'd and quick to rove,

From folly kind, from cunning loath,
Too cold for bliss, too weak for love,
Yet feigning all that's best in both.

Still panting o'er a crowd to reign,
More joy it gives to woman's breast
To make ten frigid coxcombs vain,
Than one true, manly lover blest!

Away, away-your smile's a curse-
Oh! blot me from the race of men,
Kind pitying Heaven! by death or worse,
Before I love such things again!

BALLAD STANZAS.

I KNEW by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd

Above the green elms, that a cottage was

near,

And I said, “if there's peace to be found in the world,

"A heart that was humble might hope før it here!"

It was noon, and on flowers that languish'd around

In silence repos'd the voluptuous bee; Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a

sound

But the wood-pecker tapping the hollow beech-tree.

And "Here is this lone little wood," I ex

claim'd,

"With a maid who was lovely to soul and

to eye,

Who would blush when I prais'd her and weep if I blam'd,

"How blest could I live, and how calm could I die!

“By the shade of yon sumach, whose red berry dips

"In the gush of the fountain, how sweet to recline,

"And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips,

"Which had never been sigh'd on by any

but mine!"

TO

ΝΌΣΕΙ ΤΑ ΦΙΛΤΑΤΑ.

Euripides

1803.

COME, take the harp-'tis vain to muse
Upon the gathering ills we see;
Oh! take the harp and let me lose
All thoughts of ill in hearing thee!

Sing to me, love!-though death were near,
Thy song could make my soul forget-
Nay, nay, in pity, dry that tear,

All may be well, be happy yet!

Let me but see the snowy arm
Once more upon the dear harp lie,
And I will cease to dream of harm,

Will smile at fate, while thou art nigh

Give me that strain of mournful touch,
We us'd to love long, long ago,

Before our hearts had known as much
As now, alas! they bleed to know!

Sweet notes! the tell of former peace,
Of all, that look'd so rapturous then,
Now wither'd, lost-oh! pray thee, cease,
I cannot bear those sounds again!

Art thou too wretched! yes, thou art ;
I see thy tears flow fast with mine--
Come, come to this devoted heart,

'Tis breaking, but it still is thine !

A VISION OF PHILOSOPHY.

"TWAS on the Red Sea-coast, at morn, we met

The venerable man ;* a virgin bloom

Of softness mingled with the vigorous thought That tower'd upon his brow; as when we see The gentle moon and the full radiant sun Shining in heaven together. When he spoke 'Twas language sweeten'd into song--such holy sounds

As oft the spirit of the good man hears,
Prelusive to the harmony of heaven,

When death is night and still, as he unclos'd

* In Plutarch's Essay on the Decline of the Ora cles, Cleombrotus, one of the interlocutors, describes an extraordinary man whom he had met with, after long research, upon the banks of the Red Sea. Once in every year this supernatural personage appeared to mortals, and conversed with them; the rest of his time he passed among the Genii and the Nymphs. Περι την ερυθραν θάλασσαν ξυρον, ανθρώποις ανα παν ετος άπαξ εντυγχάνοντα, ταλλα δε συν ταις νυμφαις,νόμασι και δαίμοσι, ὡς ἔφασκε. He spoke in a tone not far removed from singing, and whenever he opened his lips, a fragrance filled the place: pɛyfoμένα δε τον τόπον ευωδια κατείχε, το δόματος ηδίζον αποπνέε οντος. From him Cleombrotus learned the doctrine of a plurality of worlds.

The celebrated Janus Dousa, a little before his death, imagined that he heard a strain of music the air. See the poem of Heinsius“ in harmoniam quam paulo ante obitum audire sibi visus est Dousa." Page 501.