1805.] 



( 14,5 ) 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 



EVENING. 



\V^ITH mellowing tir.ts the lucid Oib of 

 Day 

 Now gilds the verdant beautits of the 

 Ij'.vn ; 

 Unclouded (miles his flowly-fetting ray, 



Sure prefjge of a mild lucceeaiug dawn. 

 Eve, meek advancing o'er the rural fcene, 

 Half-veil'd, around Ijer matron-charms 

 difpiays ; 

 While Hefper, favourite fuitor of her train, 

 Woos her approach, and darts his brighteil 

 rays. 



Now to thof-.- haunts my devious feet fhall 

 it ray. 

 Where Solitude and Contemplation reign 5 

 And Memory there to Fancy fliall pourtrjy 

 Charms long belov'd, but ah i belov'd in 

 vain. 



If haply there the rural Mufemay deign 

 To modulate fome rude incondite Jsy ; 



To Harmony foft-foothing o'er tlie plain. 

 While placid Stillnefs holds her grateful 

 fway J — 



Save that from depth of yonder love-lorn 

 grove 



The voice of Melody late wsrbling flows, 

 Where the wood-chorifter ftill wakes to love, 



And lulls his feathery charmer to repofe. 



Or where the Bee, her day of labour o'er, 

 Through liquid aether (lowly fails along. 

 As, fraught with fweets to fwcU her honied 

 Aore, 

 She cheats her way with foporific fong. 

 Thus on the evening of life's day, impart, 



(Wild Innocence, thy fciI-enrapturing ray ! 

 Thus Virtue's cloudlefs funfliine of the 

 hcarr, 

 .Augurs the rifing of a brighter day ! 



C. H. J. G. 



TO THE MIDNIGHT HOUR. 

 'T'llOU pLicid feafon of fedate repofe 



(Of undid uib'd and gloomy Stillnefs born), 

 No vivid gUie thy fombre /Icies difcloff, 

 " Or glowing tints that gild th' empurpled 

 morn. 



Thine it the modsft filvery light which 

 beams ' 



From ftars that pave mild Cynthia's night- 

 ly way ; 

 While from her car a paly luftrc gleams, 

 Faint as the brecic that waves the afpin 

 (pray. 



The light-wing'il hours of dewy Morn and 

 Eve 

 Now uncontcfted leave thy ebon throne ; 

 And while o'er all thy dark'ning banners 

 wave, 

 Thou fit'ft fccure, mijeft'c, aud alone. 

 W«.N'TMry Mao. No. 133. 



The flocks repofe : no village watch-dog 

 barks. 

 Nor twittering found efcapes the fongftet's 

 neft ; 

 The Echoes fleep, and folemn Silence mark* 

 Thy peaceful hour of univerfal reft. 



As move thy minutes undifturb'd and low, 

 Lite's bufy cares and reillefspaffions flcep, 



Save where the wretch bemoans his hopekfs 

 woe, 

 Or waking faints their holy vigils keep : 



Or, haply, Superftition's voice afcends. 

 And myftic hymns dilturb thy filent reign; 



Or Filial Love or facred Friendlhip bends 

 With fond attention o'er the bed of Pain. 



The bed of Pain I've v/atch'd with ceafelefs 

 care : 

 Thou, Midnight Hour, alas ! full well I 

 know ; 

 For thou haft found me fadly ftation'd there. 

 Unknowing change — except to deeper woe ! 

 With profp:fts dreary as thy fable gloom, 

 My palfied mind h.'.s flirunk in chill dif- 

 may ; 

 AVIth trembling glances view'd the filent 

 room 

 Where modefl: Virtue half-expiring lay. 



Oft did this fruitlefs prayer thy filence 

 break — 

 " Life-breathing Power thy welcome man- 

 date give 5 

 " Let healthful breezes fan life's vital fpark, 

 " And (trep^th diffuiin;, hid Eugenio live. 



" When in the confines of the eaftern iky 



" Aurora's hand unbars the gates of day, 

 '• With gloom-dad fhadcs let pallid fickaefs 



fly. 



♦• And Healtli return with Morn's return- 

 ing ray." 



That joy- fraught feafon hadft thou prov'd to 

 be, . 

 Though bound by froft, or dark with 

 mi., y fliow'rs. 

 Or tempaft-c'^.d, thou ftiU hadft prov'd to 

 me 

 Thefirft, the faireft of the circling hours. 



Yet ftill one char.m my chearlefs foul caix 

 find ; 

 Thou ca:ift one fy^ip-ithetlc charm bcftow ; 

 Thine are the glooms that meet my kindred 

 mind ; 

 For thee I'll twine a cyprefs-wrcath of 

 woe, Matilda. 



Bnfol, September 1S04. 



TRANSLATION OF THE INSCRIPTION ON 

 A MEDAL or LOUIS XIV. 



SEE, in profile. Great Louis here delign'd ; 

 Both eyes poiirtray'd Would ftrike the 

 gazer blind ! 



T SONNET. 



