By such degrees to joy they come, 'Tis cruel to prolong a pain ; Believe me, gentle Celemène, An hundred thousand oaths your fears I could no deeper love. SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. SIREN'S SONG. STEER hither, steer, your winged pines, Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines, A prey to passengers; Perfumes far sweeter than the best Which make the phoenix' urn and nest, Fear not your ships, Nor any to oppose you, save our lips; But come on shore Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. For swelling waves, our panting breasts, Exchange; and be awhile our guests: We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. BROWNE. THE NEREIDS. BELOVED the last; Beloved the most! And bid it ever beat to thine. The Nereid maids, in days of yore, Afar, the youngest of the train Beheld (but feared and aided not) Then terror fled, and pity rose 'Ah me!' she cried, 'I come too late! Rather than not have soothed his woes, I would, but may not, share his fate.' She raised his hand: What hand like this Could reach the heart athwart the lyre! Or breathe incessant, soft desire!' From eve to morn, from morn to eve, She gazed his features o'er and o'er: W. S. LANDOR. EVENING ON THE SHORE. THE baffled tides retiring from the land, On the tall cliff the dying sunlight glows, And stains with dolphin hues the waveless bay,The stars peep forth that lead the night's array Where in mid-heaven the deep'ning purple grows. How cool an eve attends this burning day! How sweet a peace the troubled wave subdues! Oh troubled, burning heart! canst thou refuse To be as calmly hush'd to rest as they? W. H. Hurlbut. EVENING VOLUNTARY. THE Sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest, And the wild storm hath somewhere found a nest; Air slumbers- wave with wave no longer strives, Only a heaving of the deep survives, A tell-tale motion! soon will it be laid, |