Burn down his scorching cheek; or the keen steel

Of wounded feeling penetrate his breast.

E'en now, as leaning on this fragrant bank,
I taste of all the keener happiness

Which sense refin'd affords-Ev'n now my heart
Would fain induce me to forsake the world,
Throw off these garments, and in shepherd's weeds,
With a small flock, and short suspended reed,
To sojourn in the woodland.-Then my thought
Draws such gay pictures of ideal bliss,

That I could almost err in reason's spite,
And trespass on my judgment.

Such is life:

The distant propect always seems more fair,
And when attain'd, another still succeeds
Far fairer, than before,-yet compass'd round
With the same dangers, and the same dismay.
And we poor pilgrims in this dreary maze,
Still discontented, chase the fairy form
Of unsubstantial happiness, to find,
When life itself is sinking in the strife,
'Tis but an airy bubble and a cheat.

ODE,

WRITTEN ON WHIT-MONDAY.

HARK, how the merry bells ring jocund round, And now they die upon the veering breeze; Anon they thunder loud,

Full on the musing ear.

afted in varying cadence, by the shore Of the still twinkling river, they bespeak A day of jubilee,

An ancient holiday.

And lo! the rural revels are begun,

And gaily echoing to the laughing sky;
On the smooth-shaven green,

Resounds the voice of mirth.

Alas! regardless of the tongue of fate,

That tells them 'tis but as an hour since they,

And that another hour and they must fall,
Like those who went before, and sleep as still
Beneath the silent sod,

A cold and cheerless sleep.

Yet why should thoughts like these intrude to scare
The vagrant Happiness, when she will deign
To smile upon us here,

A transient visitor?

Mortals! be gladsome while ye have the power,
And laugh and seize the glittering lapse of joy;
In time the bell will toll

That warns ye to your graves.

I to the woodland solitude will bend

My lonesome way-where mirth's obstreperous shout Shall not intrude to break

The meditative hour.

There will I ponder on the state of man,

Joyless and sad of heart, and consecrate
This day of jubilee

To sad reflection's shrine;

And I will cast my fond eye far beyond
This world of care, to where the steeple loud
Shall rock above the sod,

Where I shall sleep in peace.

CANZONET.

1.

MAIDEN! wrap thy mantle round thee,
Cold the rain beats on thy breast:

Why should horror's voice astound thee?
Death can bid the wretched rest!

All under the tree

Thy bed may be,

And thou mayst slumber peacefully.

2,

Maiden! once gay pleasure knew thee;
Now thy cheeks are pale and deep:
Love has been a felon to thee;

Yet, poor maiden, do not weep:

There's rest for thee

All under the tree,

Where thou wilt sleep most peacefully.

COMMENCEMENT OF A POEM

ON DESPAIR.

SOME to Aonian lyres of silver sound With winning elegance attune their song, Form'd to sink lightly on the soothed sense, And charm the soul with softest harmony;

"Tis then that hope with sanguine eye is seen
Roving thro' fancy's gay futurity;

Her heart light dancing to the sounds of pleasure,
Pleasure of days to come.-Memory too then

Comes with her sister, Melancholy sad,

Pensively musing on the scenes of youth,
Scenes never to return *.

Such subjects merit poets us'd to raise
The attic verse harmonious; but for me

A dreadlier theme demands my backward hand,
And bids me strike the strings of dissonance

With frantic energy.

'Tis wan Despair I sing; if sing I can,

Of him before whose blast the voice of song,
And mirth, and hope, and happiness, all fly,
Nor ever dare return. His notes are heard
At noon of night, where, on the coast of blood,
The lacerated son of Angola

Howls forth his sufferings to the mcaning wind;

And, when the awful silence of the night

Strikes the chill death-dew to the murd'rer's heart,
He speaks in every conscious-prompted word
Half utter'd, half suppress'd-

'Tis him I sing-Despair-terrific name,
Striking unsteadily the tremulous chord

Of timorous terror-discord in the sound:

For to a theme revolting as is this,

* Alluding to the two pleasing poems, the Pleasures of Hope and of Memory.