What plains turned up by inundations wild,— What pyramids unpiled, And shattered rocks, and horrid wrecks sublime. Look out, while I note down each thing that Time (Tyrannous Time) hath left, in deep amaze-Count on, count on,-do I not bid thee gaze?" "I gaze,—but see no marks of Time, save one,The little dial, pointing in the sun!" THE DULL SCHOLAR. FROM THE SPANISH. I. ONE eve, when by Juana sitting, II. Anon, the jade her joke repeated, (She must have thought my heart a flint); Though look and gesture both entreated, I still refused to take the hint! III. A third and harder squeeze she gave me : (Said I) "could charms like thine enslave me, WHERE IS MISS MYRTLE ? AIR-Sweet Kitty Clover. I. WHERE is Miss Myrtle? can any one tell? And I am left all alone! She flies to the window when Arundel rings; She's all over smiles when Lord Archibald sings; And I am left all alone! ? II. I brought her, one morning, a rose for her brow; Where is she gone, where is she gone? She told me such horrors were never worn now : And I am left all alone! But I saw her at night with a rose in her hair, And I guess who it came from,-of course I don't care! We all know that girls are as false as they're fair; Where is she gone, where is she gone? I'm sure the lieutenant's a horrible bear: And I am left all alone! III. Whenever we go on the Downs for a ride, Where is she gone, where is she gone? And whenever I take her down stairs from a ball, Where is she gone, where is she gone? IV. She tells me her mother belongs to the sect, Where is she gone, where is she gone ? Which holds that all waltzing is quite incorrect : And I am left all alone! But a fire's in my heart and a fire's in my brain, Where is she gone, where is she gone? And, lord! since the summer she's grown very plain; And I am left all alone! V. She said that she liked me a twelvemonth ago; Where is she gone, where is she gone? And how should I guess that she'd torture me so? Some day she'll find out it was not very wise CARTLANE CRAGS. WHOSE is the lightning speed, the stately form, While dim the moon, and dark the midnight hour, Of Scotland and of Bruce: no trophied car But go in peace thou hast not struck in vain : Die happy: sundered is thy country's chain. H. |