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If to the valley she repair
For shelter and defence,
And drives her, weeping, thence.
She seeks the brook—the faithless brook,
Of her unmindful grown,
And lingers into stone.
She wooes her embryo-flowers in vain
To rear their infant heads ;—
Enchanted in their beds.
In vain she bids the trees expand
Bare in the wilderness they stand,
Her favourite birds, in feeble notes,
Lament thy long delay: And strain their little stammering throats,
To charm thy blasts away.
Ah, Winter! calm thy cruel rage,
Release the struggling year; Thy power is past, decrepid sage!
Arise, and disappear.
Round Love's Elysian bowers
The fairest prospects rise;
Round Love's deserted bowers
Tremendous rocks arise;
Then youth, thou fond believer!
The wily syren shun:
I SONG. ALTERED FROM A GERMAN AIR, IN THE OPERA 01 'DIE ZAUBERFL6TE.' SET TO MUSIC BY MOZART.
A Careless whistling lad am I,
LINES WRITTEN UNDER A DRAWING OF
CELEBRATED BY COWPER*
This sole survivor of a race
From age to age it slowly spread
A thousand years are like a day,
But mournful Cowper, wandering nigh,
0 that the poet had reveal'd
And, fresh in undecaying prime,
WIUTTEN FOR A CONVIVIAL SOCIETY, WHOSE MOTTO WAS "FEIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."
When "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound
Among a hand of brothers,
Each shares the bliss of others:
Along this vale of sorrow:
Shall bloom again to-morrow:
On halcyon wings our moments pass,
Life's cruel cares beguiling;
In gay good humour smiling:
His reverend front adorning,
Night soften'd into morning!
From these beautiful fountains flow
Ambrosial rills of pleasure:—
A more resplendent treasure?
We'll form a constellation,