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THE QUARREL

OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

WHEN Love and Hymen both were boys, They fix'd a day of smiling weather, To show each other all their toys,

And pass an afternoon together.

To Hymen's bower young Cupid came,
And each with each was quick delighted;
Love shot his darts of surest aim,

And Hymen's brightest torch was lighted.

But Hymen soon, capricious elf,

(Now Hymen's but a peevish fellow,) Told Love he wish'd the bow himself;

And then began to pout and bellow.

Love gave his friend the weapon strait,
(Young Love is such a cheerful giver !)
And thus, for Hymen's torch of state,

Chang'd his best bow, and fullest quiver.

QUARREL OF LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

While each his proper arms possest,

Men neither could nor would resist 'em, For Hymen's fires inflamed their breast, And Cupid's arrows seldom missed 'em.

But changing thus their arms about,
The boys become perplex'd and stupid ;
Love puts the torch of Hymen out,

While Hymen blunts the shafts of Cupid.

'Twas this dissolv'd their union sweet,

And broke Affection's firmest tether;

And now,

if Love and Hymen meet,

They seldom sojourn long together!

23

STANZAS.

THE Pilgrim, tho' compell'd to fly
Far from Devotion's fane divine,
Feels all his toils repaid-his eye

Hath once beheld the sacred shine.
Such solace then must now be mine,

A pilgrim o'er life's cheerless steep, For oh! at thoughts of thee and thine, E'en Sorrow's self might cease to weep!

Thy faint farewell that bade me flee,
Thrills in mine ear its anguish yet;
Thou bad'st me too-remember thee,
Ah! think'st thou I could e'er forget?
Oh no! e'en now, thine eye so jet

I see suffused with Sorrow's dew;

E'en now,

I

press thy cheek so wet,

And hear thee weep, Adieu! Adieu!

WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.

LADY! when first, with eager eyes, This yet unblemish'd book we see, The thoughtful mind, at once, descries In this fair scroll, the type of thee.

For, on the white and virgin face
Of every yet unsullied page,
The friendly hand, ere long, shall trace
Some holiest thought or maxim sage.

So, to thy mind's unfolding scroll,
May ev'ry holiest trait be given;
And be thy young and spotless soul
Writ with the characters of Heaven!

STANZAS.

SAY, did ye mark the Sun to-day,

How bursting through the evening cloud, He chased the twilight shades away, And gilded all his sable shroud?

And then, methought, he ling'ring stood,
To gaze upon the world awhile;

And, ere he sunk beneath the flood,
To bless it with a parting smile.

So when the Christian's day is past,
Tis his to chase the twilight gloom,
To glow the brighter at the last,
And gild with glory e'en the tomb.

So when life's well-spent journey o'er, Lies pictured in the approving breast, 'Tis his the landscape to explore,

And bless the view, and sink to rest!

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