CXIII.

TRANSLATION.

THAT charming Paleness that o'erclouding threw
O'er her bewitching smiles a love-sick shade
Came with such winning majesty array'd
That forth

my ravisht heart to meet it flew.
How Saints greet Saints in Paradise I knew
From that blest hour;-so lively was displayd
That tender Sentiment none other read
But I, who still from her my being drew.

2.

Each angel-look, each condescending grace
That can, on Lady's cheek, when kindest, play
Compar'd to this would cold disdain appear.
She bent to Earth her gentle beauteous face;
And in expressive silence seem'd to say

Who from my side my faithful Friend would tear?

ANON.

CXIV.

COLERIDGE. (VI.)

ΤΟ

BOWLES.

MY heart has thankd thee, BOWLES, for those soft

strains

Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring Of wild Bees in the sunny showers of Spring; For hence not callous to the Mourner's pains

2.

Through Youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went. And when the darker Day of Life began,

And I did roam, a thought-bewilder'd Man, Their mild and manliest Melancholy lent

3.

A mingled Charm, which oft the pang consign'd
To slumber, though the big tear it renew'd;
Bidding such strange mysterious pleasure brood
Over the wavy and tumultuous Mind

As made the Soul enamor'd of her Woe.

No common praise, dear Bard, to thee I owe.

CXV.

HENRY HOWARD;

EARL OF SURREY.

SUMMER.

ELEGIAC.

THE soote Season that bud and bloom forth brings
With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale:
The Nightingall with fethers new she sings;
The Turtle to her mate hath told her tale.
Summer is come: for every spray now springs.

The Hart hath hung his old head on the pale;
The Buck in brake his winter coat he flings;

The Fishes fleete with new repayred scale: The Adder all her slough away she flinges; The swift Swallow pursueth the flies smalle. The busy Bee her honey how she minges! Winter is worne that was the floures bale. And thus I see among these pleasant things Eche care decays;—and yet my sorrow springs.

From "PETRARCA;" a Selection of SONNETS. 1804.

CXVI.

JAMES JENNINGS.

DESIRE OF SOLITUDE.

OFT have I mixt the gaudy World among
Where every bosom glows with new delights
Apparently where Music fond invites

:

Departing joys to melody of Song :—

2.

Oft where the mighty, affluent, and great,
Not wise, with wanton luxury refin'd
Aspire-where maddening Pleasures satiate

The sense where every outward good combin'd

3.

Pours forth, at once, a gust of sensual joy :-
Anxious to find a Spirit like my own;

Not studious over much, but when alone
One who the stealing hours would dare employ.
But, ah, deceiv'd, I've sought long time in vain.:
And, haply, now I hope, but to augment my pain.

EUROP. MAG. Anno 1794.

I have ventured to transpose a word in the last line: where “haply” immediately preceded “hope.”

CXVII.

SHAKESPERE.

REFLECTION ON THE DESTRUCTIVE POWER OF TIME.

WHEN I have seen by TIME's fell hand defac'd
The rich proud cost of outworn buried Age;
When sometimes lofty Towers I see down ras'd
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;

2.

When I have seen the hungry Ocean gain
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore;
And the firm Soil win of the wat'ry main;
Encreasing store with loss, and loss with store ;

3.

When I have seen such interchange of State,
Or State itself confounded to decay,

Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate

That Time will come and take my Love away. This thought is as a Death: which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose *.

In this beautiful line SHAKESPERE afterward, like HOMER and VIRGIL, borrow'd from himself. C. L.