10. At least from guilt shalt thou be free,

No matron shall thy shame reprove; Though cureless pangs may prey on me,

No martyr shalt thou be to love.

7. See still the little painted bark,

in which I row'd you o'er the lake; See there, high waving o'er the park, The elın I clamber'd for your sake.

8. These tiines are past-our joys are gone,

You leave me, leave this happy vale; These scenes I must retrace alone; Without thee what will they avail ?

9. Who can conceive, who has not proved,

The anguish of a last embrace ? When, torn from all you fondly loved, You bid a long adieu to peace.

10. This is the deepest of our woes,

For this these tears our cheeks bedew; This is of love the final close,

Oh, God, the fondest, last adieu !


1. THINK'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes,

Suffused in tears, implore to stay; And heard unmoved thy plenteous sighs, Which said far more than words can say ?

2. Though keen the grief thy tears exprest,

When love and hope lay both o'erthrown; Yet still, my girl, ibis bleeding breast Throbb'd with deep sorrow as thine own.

3. But when our cheeks with anguish glow'd,

When thy sweet lips were join'd to mine, The tears that from my eyelids flow'd Were lost in those that fell froia thine.

4. Thou could'st not feel my burning cheek,

Thy gushing tears had quench'd its flame, And as thy tongue essay'd to speak, In sighs alone it breathed my name.

And yet, my girl, we weep in vain,

In vain our fate in sighs deplore;
Remembrance only can remain.-
But that will make us weep the more.

Again, thou best beloved, adieu !

Ah! if thou canst o'ercome regret, Nor let thy mind past joys review,

Our only hope is to forget!

TO M. S. G.

WHENE'ER I view those lips of thine,

Their hue invites my fervent kiss ;
Yet I forego that bliss divine,
Alas! it were unhallow'd bliss.

Whene'er I dream of that pure breast,

How could I dwell upon its snows?
Yet is the daring wish represt,
For that, -would banish its repose.

A glance from thy soul-searching eye

Can raise with hope, depress with fear; Yet I conceal my love, and why ? I would not force a painful tear.

I ne'er have told my love, yet thou

Hast seen my ardent flame too well;
And shall I plead my passion now,
To make thy bosom's heaven a hell ?

No! for thou never canst be mine,

United by the priest's decree; By any ties but those divine, Mine, my beloved, thou ne'er shalt be.

6. Then let the secret fire consume,

Let it consume, thou shalt not know; With joy I court a certain doom, Rather than spread its guilty glow.

7. I will not ease my tortured heart,

By driving dove.eyed peace from thine; Rather than such a sting impart, Each thought presuniptuous I resign.

8. Yes! yield those lips, for which I'd brave

More than I here shall dare to tell;
Thy innocence and mine to save,-
I bid thee now a last farewell.

Yes! yield that breast, to seek despair,

And hope no more thy soft embrace, Which to obtain my soul would dare,

All, all reproach, but thy disgrace.


1. When I hear you express an affection so warm,

Ne'er think, my beloved, that I do not believe; For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm, And your eye beams a ray wbich can never deceive

2. Yet still, this fond bosom regrets while adoring,

That love, like the leaf, must fall into the sear, That age will come on, when, remembrance, deploring, Contemplates the scenes of her youth with a tear.

3. That the time must arrive, when, no longer retaining Their auburn, those locks must wave thin to the

breeze, When a few silver hairs of those tresses remaining, Prove nature a prey to decay and disease.

4. 'Tis this, my beloved, which spreads gloom o'er my

features, Though I ne'er shall presume to arraign the decreo Which God has proclaim'd as the fate of his creatures. In the death which one day will deprive you of me

Mistake not, sweet sceptic, the cause of emotion,

No doubt can the mind of your lover invade :
He worships each look with such faithtul devi.trou

A sinile can enchant, or a tear can dissuade.


3. But as death, my beloved, soon or late shall o'ertake us, If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse, And our breasts which alive with such sympathy Or the Nine be disposed from your service to rove glow,

Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse, Will sleep in the grave till the blast shall awake us, And try the effect of the first kiss of love. When calling the dead, in earth's bosom laid low:

4. 7.

I hate you, ye cold compositions of art: Oh! then let us drain, while we may, draughts of Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove, pleasure,

court the effusions that spring from the heart Which from passion like ours may unceasingly flow: Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love Let us pass round the cup of love's bliss in full measure,

5. And quaff the contents as our nectar below.

Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes 1805. 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? TO CAROLINE.

6. 1.

Oh! cease to affirin that man, since his birth, On! when shall the grave hide for ever my sorrow? From Adamn till now, has with wretchedness strove; Oh! when shall my soul wing her flight from this Some portion of paradise still is on earth, clay!

And Eden revives in the first kiss of love. The present is hell, and the coming to-morrow

7. But brings with new torture, the curse of to-day. When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are 2.

pastFrom my eye flows no tear, from my lips fall no curses, For years fleet away with the wings of the duve

I blast not the fiends who have hurl'd me froin bliss; The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
For poor is the soul which bewailing rehearses Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.
Its querulous grief, when in anguish like this.

Was my eye, 'stead of tears, with red fury flakes

Sweet girl! though only once we met, Would my lips breathe a flame which no stream could That meeting I shall ne'er forget;

And though we ne'er may meet again assuage, On our foes should my glance lanch in vengeance its

Remembrance will thy form retain. lightning,

I would not say, "I love," but still With transport my tongue give a loose to its rage. My senses struggle with my will:

In vain to drive thee from my breast, 4. But now tears and curses, alike unavailing,

My thoughts are more and more represt, Would add to the souls of our tyrants delight;

In vain I check the rising sighs, Could they view us our sad separation bewailing,

Another to the last replies : Their merciless hearts would rejoice at the sight.

Perhaps this is not love, but yet

Our meeting I can ne'er forget.
Yet still, though we bend with a feign'd resignation, What though we never silence broke,

Life beams not for us with one ray that can cheer; Our eyes a sweeter language spoke;
Love and hope upon earth bring no more consolation, The tongue in flattering falsehood deals,
In the grave is our hope, for in life is our fear.

And tells a tale it never feels :

Deceit the guilty lips impart, Oh! when, my adored, in the tomb will they place me,

And hush the guilty mandates of the heart; Since in life, love and friendship for ever are fled ?

But soul's interpreters, the eyes, If again in the mansion of death I embrace thee,

Spurn such restraint, and scorn disguise.
Perhaps they will leave unmolested the dead.

As thus our glances oft conversed,
And all our bosoms felt rehearsed,
No spirit, from within, reproved us,
Say rather, “'twas the spirit moved us."

Though what they utter'd I repress,

Yet I conceive thou'lt partly guese;

For as on thee iny memory ponders, **Α Βαρβιτος δε χορδαίς

Perchance to me thine also wanders.
'Ερωτα μουνον ήχει.

This for myself, at least, I'll say,

Thy form appears through night, through day 1.

Awake, with it my fancy teems; Away with those fictions of flimsy romance!

In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams; Tnose tissues of falsehood which folly has wove!

The vision charms the hours away, Give me the mild beain of the soul-breathing glance, And bids me curse Aurora's ray or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.

For breaking slumbers of delight 2.

Which make me wish for endless nigbl. Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow,

Since, oh! whate'er iny future fate, Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove, Shall joy or woe my steps awai', From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow, Tempted by love, by storms beset,

Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love! Thine image I can ne'er forget.

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Alas! again no more we meet, No more our former looks repeat; Then let me breathe this parting prayer, The dictate of my bosom's care: "May Heaven so guard my lovely Quaker, That anguish can ne'er o'ertake her; That peace and virtue ne'er forsake her, But bliss be aye her neart's partaker! Oh! may the happy mortal fated To be, by dearest ties, related, For her each hour new joys discover, And lose the husband in the lover! May that fair bosom never know What 'tis to feel the restless woe Which stings the soul, with vain regret, of him who never can forget!

LINES ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. As the author was discharging his pistols in a garden, two ladies passing

near the spot were alarused by the mund of a bullet hissing near thema to one of whom the following stanzas were addressed the next morning

DOUBTLESS, sweet girl, the hissing lead,

Wafting destruction o'er thy charms,
And hurtling o'er thy lovely head,
Has tilld that breast with fond alarma

Surely some envious demon's force,

Vex'd to behold such beauty here,
Impell'd the bullet's viewless course,
Diverted from its first career.

Yes, in that nearly fatal hour

The ball obey'd some hell-born guide;
But Heaven, with interposing power

In pity turn'd the death aside.



Lesbia! since far from you I've ranged,

Our souls with fond affection glow not: You say 'uis I, not you, have changed,

I'd tell why, but yet I know not.

Your polish'd brow no cares have crost;

And, Lesbia! we are not much older, Since trembling first my heart I lost, Or told my love, with hope grown bolder.

3. Sixteen was then our utmost age,

Two years have lingering past away, love! And now new thoughts our minds engage, At least I feel disposed to stray, love!

4. 'Tis I that am alone to blame,

I, that am guilty of love's treason; Since your sweet breast is still the saine, Caprice must be my only reason.

5. I do not, love ! suspect your truth,

With jealous donbt my bosum heaves not; Warm was the passion of my youth, One trace of dark deceit it leaves not.

6. No, no, my flame was not pretended,

For, oh! I loved you most sincerely; And-though our dream at last is endedMy bosom still esteems you dearly.

No more we meet in yonder bowers;

Absence has made me prone to roving;
But older, firmer hearts than ours
Have found monotony in loving.

Your cheek's soft bloom is unimpair'd,

New beauties still are daily brightning, Your eye for conquest beanis prepared, The forge of love's resistless lightning.

9. Arm'd thus, to make their bosoms bleed,

Many will throng to sigh like me, love! More constant they may prove, indeed;

Fonder, alas! they ne'er can be, love!

Yet, as perchance one trembling tear

Upon that thrilling bosom fell; Which I, th' iconscious cause of fear Extracted from its glistening cell:

5. Say, what dire penance can atone

For such an outrage done to thee? Arraign'd before thy beauty's throne, What punishment wilt thou decree?

6. Might I perform the judge's part,

The sentence I should scarce deplore : It only would restore a heart Which but belong'd to thee before.

7. The least atonement I can make

Is to become no longer free; Henceforth I breathe but for thy sake Thou shalt be all in all to nie.

But thou, perhaps, mayst now reject

Such expiation of iny guilt:
Come then, some other mode elect;
Let it be death, or what thou wilt.

Choose then, relentless, and I swear

Naught shall thy dread decree prevent. Yet hold-one little word forbear!

Let it be aught but banishment.

“Αει δ', αει με φευγει.”


1. The roses of love glad the garden of life,

Though nurtured 'inid weeds dropping pestilent dew, Till Time crops the leaves with unmcrciful knife, Or prunes them for ever in love's last adieu !

2. In vain with endearments we soothe the sad heart,

In vain do we vow for an age to be true;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
Or death disunite us in love's last adieu !

3. Still Hope, breathing peace through the grief-swoilen

breast, Will whisper, “Our meeting we yet may renega

With this dream of deceit half our sorrow's represt,
Nor taste we the poison of love's last adieu!

Ay, and the red right arm of Jove,

Hurtling his lightnings from above,
Oh! mark you yon pair: in the sunshine of youth With all his terrors then unfurl'd,
Love twined round their childhood his flowers as He would unmoved, unawed behold:
they grew;

The flames of an expiring world,
They flourish a while in the season of truth,

Again in crashing chaos rolld, Till chill'd by the winter of love's last adieu!

In vast promiscuous ruin hurlid, 5.

Might light his glorious funeral pile : Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way

Still dauntless midst the wreck of earth he'd smile Down a cheek which ouirivals thy bosom in hue ? Yet why do I ask? to distraction a prey, Thy reason has perish'd with love's last adieu ! 6.

Oh! who is yon misanthrope, shunning mankind ?

From cities to caves of the forest he flew :
There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind; ANSWER TO SOME ELEGANT VERSES SENT BY
The mountains reverberate love's last adieu !


THAT ONE OF HIS DESCRIPTIONS WAS RA Now hate rules a heart which in love's easy chains

THER TOO WARMLY DRAWN. Once passion's tumultuous blandishments knew;

“ But if an old lady, knight, priest, or physician, Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins;

Should condemn me for printing a second edition ; He ponders in frenzy on love's last adieu !

If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse, 8.

May I venture to give her a smack of my muse:

Anstey's New Bath Guide, p. 102. How he envies the wretch with a soul wrapt in steel His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few, CANDOUR compels me, Becher! to commend

The verse wbich blends the censor with the friend Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel, And dreads not the auguish of love's last adieu! Your strong, yet just, reproof extorts applause 9.

From me, the heedless and imprudent cause.

For this wild error which pervades iny strain,
Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o'ercast;
No more with love's former devotion we sue:

I sue for pardon,-must I sue in vain?

The wise sometimes from Wisdom's ways depart; He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of affection is love's last adieu !

Can youth then hush the dictates of the heart?

Precepts of prudence curb, but can't control, 10.

The fierce emotions of the flowing soul. In this life of probation for rapture divine,

When love's delirium haunts the glowing mina, Astrea* declares that some penance is due; From him who has worshipp'd at love's gentle shrine, Limping Decorum lingers far bohind:

Vainly the dotard mends her prudish pace, The atonement is ample in love's last adieu!

Outstript and vanquish'd in the mental chase. 11.

The young, the old, have worn the chains of love. Who kneels to the god on his altar of light

Let those who ne'er confined my lay reprove: Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew:

Let those whose souls contemn the pleasing power His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight;

Their censures on the hapless victim shower.
His cypress, the garland of love's last adieu !

Oh! how I hate the nerveiess, frigid song,
The ceaseless echo of the rhyming throng,

Whose labour'd lines in chilling numbers flow,

To paint a pang the author ne'er can know!

The artless Helicon I boast is youth ;-"Sulpicia ad Cerinthum."-Lib. Quarf.

My lyre, the heart; my muse, the simple truth CRUEL Cerinthus! does the fell disease

Far be 't from me the “virgin's mind" to "taint Which racks my breast your fickle bosom please? Seduction's dread is here no slight restraint. Alas! I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain,

The maid whose virgin breast is void of guile That I might live for love and you again:

Whose wishes dimple in a modest smile. But now I scarcely shall bewail my fate:

Whose downcast eye disdains the wanton leer, By death alone I can avoid your hate.

Firm in her virtue's strength, yet not severe-
She whom a conscious grace shall thus refine

Will ne'er be "tainted" by a strain of mine.

But for the nymph whose premature desires

Torment the bosom with unholy fires,
ODE 3, LIB. 3.

No net to snare her willing heart is spread;

She would have fallen, though she ne'er had reaa The man of firm and noble soul

For me, I fain would please the chosen few, No factious clamours can control;

Whose souls, to feeling and to nature true,
No threat'ning tyrant's darkling brow

Will spare the childish verse, and not destroy
Can swerve him from his just intent:

The light effusions of a heedless boy.
Gales the warring waves which plough,

I seek not glory from the senseless crowd;
By Auster on the billows spent,

or fancied laurels I shall ne'er be proud; To curb the Adriatic main,

Their warmest plaudits I would scarcely prize, Would awe his fix'd determined mind in vain.

Their sneers or censures I alike despise. • The Goddess of Justice.

November 26, 1808

ON A CHANGE OF MASTERS AT A GREAT Bright in idea gleams thy lofty spire,

Again I mingle with thy playful quire;
WHERE are those honours, Idal once your own,

Our tricks of mischief, every childish game, When Probus fill'd your magisterial throne ?

Unchanged by time or distance, seem the same; As ancient Rome, tast falling to disgrace,

Through winding paths, along the glade, I trace Haild a barbarian in her Cæsar's place,

The social smile of ev'ry welcome face; So you, degenerate, share as hard a fate,

My wonted haunts, my scenes of joy and woe, And seat

Each early boyish friend or youthful foe, mposus where your Probus sate.

Our feuds dissolved, but not my friendship past:of narrow brain, yet of a narrower soul, Pomposus holds you in his harsh control;

I bless the former, and forgive the last. Pomposus, by no social virtue sway'd,

Hours of my youth! when, nurtured in my breast, With florid jargon, and with vain parade;

To love a stranger, friendship made me blest:With noisy nonsense, and new-fangled rules,

Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth, Such as were pe'er before enforced in schools

When every artless bosom throbs with truth; Mistaking pedantry for learning's laws,

Untaught by wor!..y wisdom how to feign, He governs, sanction'd but by self-applause.

And check each impulse with prudential rein; With him the same dire fate attending Rome,

When all we feel, our honest souls discloseIll-fated Ida! soon must stamp your doom:

In love to friends, in open hate to foes; Like her o'erthrown, for ever lost to fame,

No varnish'd tales the lips of youth repeat, No trace of science left you but the name.

No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit.
July, 1865.

Hypocrisy, the gift of lengthen'd years,
Matured by age, the garb of prudence wears.
When now the boy is ripen'd into man,

His careful sire chalks forth some wary plan;

Instructs his son from candour's path to shrink, "I cannot but remember such things were,

Smoothly to speak, and cautiously to think; And were most dear to me."

Still to assent, and never to denyWHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains,

A patron's praise can well reward the lie: Chills the warm tide which flows along the veins; And who, when Fortune's warning voice is heard, When Health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing, Would lose his opening prospects for a word ? And flies with every changing gale of spring;

Although against that word his heart rebel,
Not to the aching frame alone confined,

And truth, indignant, all his bosom swell.
Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind:
What grisly forms, the spectre-train of woe,

Away with themes like this' not mine the task Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow, From flattering fiends to tear the hateful mask ; With Resignation wage relentless strife,

Let keener bards delight in satire's sting; While Hope retires appallid and clings to life. My fancy soars not on Detraction's wing: Yet less the pang when through the tedious hour Once, and but once, she aim'd a deadly blow. Remembrance sheds around her genial power,

To hur! defiance on a secret foe; Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given,

But when that foe, from feeling or from shame, When love was bliss, and Beauty form’d our heaven ; The cause unknown, yet still to me the same, Or, dear to youth, portrays each childish scene,

Warn’d by some friendly hint, perchance, retired,

With this subinission all her rage expired.
Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been.
As when through clouds that pour the summer storm From dreaded pangs that feeble foe to save,
The orb of day unveils his distant form,

She hush'd her young resentinent, and forgave; Gilds with faint beams the crystal dewe of rain,

Or, if my muse a pedant's portrait drew, And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain;

Pomposus' virtues are but known to few: Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams,

I never feard the young usurper's nod, The sun of memory, glowing through my dreams,

And he who wields must sometimes feel the rod. Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,

If since on Granta's failings, known to all To scenes far distant points his paler rays;

Who share the converse of a college hall, Still rules my senses with unbounded sway,

She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain, The past confounding with the present day.

'Tis past, and thus she will not sin again. Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought,

Soon must her early song for ever cease, Which still recurs, unlook'd for and unsought;

And all may rail when I shall rest in peace. My soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields,

Here first remember'd be the joyous band And roams romantic o'er her airy fields;

Who haild me chief, obedient to command; Scenes of my youth, develop'd, crowd to view,

Who join'd with me in every boyish sport1o which I long have bade a last adieu !

Their first adviser, and their last resort ; Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes ;

Nor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant's frown, Friends lost to me for aye except in dreams;

Or all the sable glories of his gown; Some who in marble prematurely sleep,

Who, thus transplanted from his father's schoolWhose forms I now remember but to weep;

Unfit to govern, ignorant of ruleSome who yet urge the same scholastic course

Succeeded him whom all unite to praise, or early science, future fame the source;

The dear preceptor of my early days; Who, still contending in the studious race,

Probus, the pride of science, and the boast, In quick rotation fill the senior place!

To Ipa now, alas! for ever lost. These with a thousand visions now unite,

With him for years we search'd the classic page. To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight.

And feard the master, though we loved the sage Ida! blest spot, where Science holds her reign, Retired at last, his small yet peacefui seat How joyous once I join'd thy youthful train! From learning's labour is the blest reliear

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