So mix'd the rose and lily's white, To deck her cheek, what flower she'd choose, I wish I ne'er had seen her eye, Ne'er seen her cheek of doubtful dye, The sweets that hung upon the lip Of faithless Emma. For though from rosy dawn of day, Of faithless Emma. HOW LOVELY THE HOUR. How lovely the hour, when the sun, smooth declining, Retires to give place to the shadows of night; When each dew-drop that falls round the flow'rets are twining Sweet scents that arise with mild Luna's pale light. Oh! then comes my rapture, and then comes my glory, I fly from the world, but I fly not in vain; A dearer than Helen,* so blooming in story, * Fair Helen of Kirkconnell Lea. As the blush on the face ev'ry feature enlightens, Reveal'd her light form, gliding home by the rill; CONTENT. My days they roll pleasant and fair, My love she is gentle and kind, And vows she'll for ever prove true; In truth she is rivall'd by few. *This song is by the young poet whose first communication the reader of our work will find at page 338 of Vol. I. We are happy to think that he has, in some degree, realized the hopes we there indulged of his powers. The present little effusion pos sesses considerable merit: there is a warmth of imagination, and in some respects, an originality of thought, which pleases us, although, at the same time, we remark some youthful inaccuracies, which we hope his after productions will be exempt from. While innocence smiles in my home, REMEMBER ME. REMEMBER me, when far away I journey through the world's wide waste; Or when the ev'ning shadows haste. Remember me whene'er you sigh, RULE BRITANNIA. WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from, &c. This was the charter, the charter of the land, The nations not so blest as thee Whilst thou shalt flourish-shalt flourish great and free Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast-loud blast that tears the skies, Rule Britannia, &c. Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame; Will but arouse arouse thy generous flame, To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine, All shall be-shall be subject to the main, Rule Britannia, &c. The Muses, still with freedom found, Shall to, &c. Blest isle, with beauty-with matchless beauty crown'd, And manly hearts to guard the fair. Rule Britannia, &c. |