But as death, my beloved, soon or late shall o'ertake us, And our breasts which alive with such sympathy glow, Will sleep in the grave till the blast shall awake us, When calling the dead, in earth's bosom laid low: Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of pleasure, Which from passion like ours may unceasingly flow; Let us pass round the cup of love's bliss in full measure, And quaff the contents as our nectar below. A FRAGMENT. WHEN, to their airy hall, my father's voice If that with honor fail to crown my clay, TO M. S. G. WHENE'ER I view those lips of thine Alas! it were unhallowed bliss. Whene'er I dream of that pure breast, For that, would banish its repose. A glance from thy soul-searching eye I ne'er have told my love, yet thou No! for thou never canst be mine, By any ties but those divine, Mine, my beloved, thou ne'er shalt be. Then let the secret fire consume, With joy I court a certain doom, Rather than spread its guilty glow. I will not ease my tortured heart, By driving dove-eyed peace from thine; Rather than such a sting impart, Each thought presumptuous I resign. Yes! yield those lips, for which I'd brave Yes! yield that breast, to seek despair, At least from guilt shalt thou be free, TO CAROLINE. THINK'ST thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Though keen the grief thy tears exprest, When love and hope lay both o'erthrown; Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast Throbbed with deep sorrow as thine own. But when our cheeks with anguish glowed, Were lost in those which fell from thine. Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek, And yet, my girl, we weep in vain, But that will make us weep the more. Again, thou best beloved, adieu! Ah! if thou canst o'ercome regret, - THE FIRST KISS OF LOVE. AWAY with your fictions of flimsy romance! Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove; Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance, Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love. Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow, Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove, From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow, Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love! If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse, Or the Nine be disposed from your service to rove, Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse, And try the effect of the first kiss of love. I hate you, ye cold compositions of art, Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove, I court the effusions that spring from the heart Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love. Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes, Perhaps may amuse, yet they never can move: Arcadia displays but a region of dreams; What are visions like these to the first kiss of love? Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth, From Adam till now, has with wretchedness strove; Some portion of paradise still is on earth, And Eden revives in the first kiss of love. When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past For years fleet away with the wings of the doveThe dearest remembrance will still be the last, Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love. 6 |