Young Zephyr his fresh flowers profusely throws, THE ROSE. As late each flower that sweetest blows I pluck'd, the Garden's pride! Around his brows a beamy wreath All purple glow'd his cheek beneath, I softly seiz'd th' unguarded Power, And plac'd him, cag'd within the flower, But when unweeting of the guile Awoke the pris'ner sweet, He struggled to escape awhile And stamp'd his fairy feet. Ah! soon the soul-entrancing sight He gaz'd! he thrill'd with deep delight! And oh! he cried-" Of magic kind What charms this Throne endear! Some other Love let Venus find- THE KISS. ONE kiss, dear Maid! I said and sigh'd— Yon viewless Wand'rer of the vale, Too well those lovely lips disclose The whisper'd "No"--how little meant! And tempts with feign'd dissuasion coy TO A YOUNG ASS. ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT. POOR little Foal of an oppressed Race! Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate?— To see thy wretched Mother's shorten'd Chain? Chain'd to a Log within a narrow spot Where the close-eaten Grass is scarcly seen, While sweet around her waves the tempting Green! Poor Ass! thy Master should have learnt to shew Pity-best taught by fellowship of Woe! For much I fear me, that he lives, like thee, Half-famish'd in a land of Luxury! How askingly it's footsteps hither bend? It seems to say, "And have I then one Friend?" Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his Bride, How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play, Thy dissonant harsh Bray of Joy would be, DOMESTIC PEACE. TELL me, on what holy ground THE SIGH. WHEN Youth his fairy reign began |