Bright to my view the scenes of childhood rise. 265
But gnawing Conscience blasts their brilliant dyes.
Though rob'd in bliss these halcyon pleasures spring,
Each pleasure bears a curse, each joy a sting.
One boon from Heav'n MATILDA still may crave,
One melancholy boon-an early grave.
I hop'd, when Passion lent young Fancy scope, (For Love will trust the syren voice of Hope), I fondly dream'd our path through pleasure lay, And EDWARD seem'd to guide my flow'ry way. O'er his lov'd form in speechless trance I hung, And drank the raptur'd accents of his tongue. "O for some happy spot, some shelt'ring shade, "Some solitary grove," we fondly said, "Some blissful isle, in whose enchanted bow'rs, "With woodbine wrought, and Summer's blooming
"Love, fir'd by Liberty, might spurn controul, "Dart thro' the frame, and rule th' o'erflooded
"There no unpitying father should intrude,
"To check the trance of Love with footstep rude;
"No child condemn'd, a cold reluctant wife,
"To sink a wedded prostitute for life;
"Gay Hope should dwell in ev'ry passing breeze,
"And ev'ry whisp'ring riv'let lull to peace."
Dear, lost delusions! Truth's too fervent ray
Strikes the bright frostwork-and it melts away: 290
In Kilda's Isle I trace the fancied shore,
But you and Innocence are mine no more.
Oft when at night in weary trance I lie,
And sleep hangs heavy on my wakeful eye,
Strange visions glance athwart the deepening gloom,295
My bleeding EDWARD leaves the silent tomb.
Shivering, the grisly phantom glides along,
And midnight spectres howl the funeral song:
Cold is the tongue that stole my list'ning soul,
And bade the hast'ning suns too swiftly roll;
Fix'd is the eye that passion taught to move,
With all the silent eloquence of love;
Pale is the cheek where bloom'd the living rose,
From his gor'd breast the purple torrent flows:
Tyrant! thou might'st have spar'd his guiltless head,
"Twas I profan'd the violated bed:
-Yet would I rather press these lips so cold,
Kiss his pale cheek-his bloody corse enfold,
Clasp the cold heart, in happier days I press'd,
That throbb'd responsive to my heaving breast,
Than proudly tread in Pleasure's flow'ry maze,
While humbler beauties envy as they gaze.
-Fell tyrant! but when all in silence lies,
Stern Conscience bids her tort'ring fiends arise,
See on his thorny couch the murd'rer thrown- 315
He starts and hark! that agonizing groan-
In broken dreams his troubl'd spirits reel:
He grimly grasps the visionary steel.
The restless casement flaps-bleak howls the blastHis troubled slumbers fly-he starts aghastConvulsive pangs his glaring eyeballs strainBut all is hush'd-he turns to sleep againAgain the blast returns with hollow sighAgain he starts-again his slumbers flyList'ning he hears a cautious whisper creep;
He leaves his harden'd couch—and flies from sleepShudd'ring he grasps his sword—he fears to breatheBut all is silent as the realms of death.
Hence, vain illusions! fly this burning brain— Though Mirth must ne'er illume these eyes again, 330
Let dreams less dark my ranging soul employ,
And let me snatch a melancholy joy.
Whisper that EDWARD lives-Bring balmy rest;
Bring peace-fo long a stranger to my breast;
O could I clasp once more his angel form,
Without one sigh I'd meet th' o'erwhelming storm;
Hang on his neck-invoke th' avenging fire,
And in an extacy of love expire.
Lov'd youth! if still in this dim orb you dwell,
Accept your poor MATILDA's last farewell.
Receive- -for Death now shakes the fatal dart,
This last sad homage of a broken heart.
My dying breath shall own my earliest flame,
And my last sigh shall mix with EDWARD's name.
I LOVE the Poets," young Narcissa said: Quoth I, "The Poets always lov'd the Misses:" "Give me some verses then," rejoin'd the maid • "I will (said I) :—give me as many kisses."
She smil'd consent-I kiss'd the lovely maid,
And, warm with bliss, repeat a glowing line;
She smil'd again, and I repeat the bliss,
And to my first I add a second line;
Then said-The bee from sweetest flow'rets sips,
And hence so sweet the honey of the bee;
And lines inhal'd from those nectareous lips,
Made of thy kisses, must be worthy thee.
"Tis noon, and the cool-breathing zephyr is fled,
And the dew-drop no longer besprinkles the thorn;
I fly from the sun-beam that scorches my head,
And sigh when I think on the beauties of morn.
For oh! vanish'd morn, as I feel thee depart,
I know that life's loveliest season is o'er;
Like thy shades each soft vision is quitting my heart,
And I know that these visions shall glad it no more!
Yet why should I mourn? On my opening mind
Thought early intruded her lessons severe;
E'en in childhood I ponder'd the precepts unkind,
And mingled the revels of youth with a tear!
Sport on then, ye triflers-enjoy the gay beam,
Nor remember the shadows of ev'ning must fall,
When its splendours shall perish, like yesterday's
dream,
And silence and night shall envelope ye all.
For me, as the pageant glides by, I can smile,
Since few are the pleasures Time pilfers from me,
And Hope of its terrors my breast shall beguile,
As I welcome the sentence that bids me be free!
OF ENGLISH DEFEATS AND FRENCH VICTORIES.
Showing how Englishmen ought to stand still and suffer themselves to be beaten, after the example of their forefathers.
WOULD you hear what deeds of wonder
Once by British Arms were done;
How the British Sons of Thunder
Made the Gallic squadrons run;
Deeds I sing renown'd in story;
Listen, every Briton's Son,
Hark to your forefathers' glory,
And match it, match it with your own.
EDWARD first his English Bowmen
Pour'd upon the plains of France;
Full twice sixty thousand Foemen
'Gainst him rais'd the Gallic lance.
Five to one the Frenchmen vaunted,
To one Briton five Mounseers ;-
But by that was EDWARD daunted ?
Cressy, say; and say, Poictiers.
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