1822.) 
pus Queen of the host of night, 
coronet of barnish’d light! 
iful chaser of the stars, 
2 diamond bow their splendour mars ! 
Look down on one 
To whom the sun 
ever seem’d hali'so fair as thou ; 
_ From thy silver throne 
On his heart look down, 
As thou dost on all that is round him now. 
Oh! be his the glance, whose memory 
fir’d : ; 
The Jonian* minstrel’s darkend’d eye, 
And to bend at thy sweet shrine inspir’d 
The gazerst of the eastern sky. 
Still softly shine 
With ray divine, 
The fairest gem in the crown ofeven; 
Oh! still be the theme 
Of the poet’s dream, 
The radiant type of thy God in Heaven. 
There is one alone in yon bright train, 
That will not own thy glorious reign ; 
For the star of Venus siniles as fair 
Asif no Dian wander’d there. 
Such fate befaH 
The hopes of all ’ 
Who under the Heaven of Earth may rove, 
That purity join - 
With beauty, to shine 
Through the starlight depth of sorrowless 
love! J. 
—— 
TO FIDELITY AND MARIANNE. 
Fidelity ? be thou my guide, through all 
The mazy labyriaths which life enthrall ; 
Spas me, thou, against each adverse 
ate, ; 
Screen me from jealousy’s simoon blast ; 
And when my trouble musings all are past, 
Do thou upon my lifeless clay await ; 
And thou, sole soother of my inward 
storms, 
Mary, my love! fairest of all fair forms! 
Wilt thou, too, shed compassion’s saline 
drop 
O'er him, who like a spectre now doth sink 
Into fate’s gulph, from life’s exhausted 
brink : ‘ 
Oh, yes! when my bier passes, thou 
wilt stop, 
And while thine eye emits the grief-drawn 
tear, 
Exclaim—with William, love and faith lie 
here. 
November, 1821. 
—_—_— 
To ——— on her demanding what Lady 
possessed the Author's A ffections. 
» How canst thou ask, or how demand of me, 
The ae of her, who throws enchantment’s 
ve 
Around my senses ! and, of all the frail 
Who holds my proud soul in captivity? 
* Homer. 
+ The Sabian idolaters, 
& Monveiy MAG, No. 365. : 
Original Poctry.. 
ADDRESS TO THE WINTER MOON. 
137 
Why ask me whom I love ? when folly’s self 
Might in the rolling of mine eyes behold 
The secret, which my lips have never told 
Uniil this moment unto mortal elf. 
Or, dost thou crue!ly delight to rend 
The breast aiready riven ?—and the heart, 
Smarting already, would’st thou farther smart 
With needless questions, which to nothing tend ? 
For oh! thou must have seen, and still must see, 
By mine eyes’ langnishings, I love but Thee! 
SS 
LINES, 
Suggested by an Evenings walk onthe 
banks of the Humber. 
Qs xeoves oF’ nfn¢ ar Brora’ odtyos Oynrots. 
. . SIMONIDES. 
The sun has sunk beneath the trembling wave, 
To gild another heaven wit! orient light, 
And nought is heard amid the stillness, save 
The lonely whisper of the conscious night. 
How sweet to rove when veiled from human 
sight 5 
By the dark curtain which enwraps the sky 5 
How sweet to drink from thought the pure de- 
light 
Which ever shuns the gay, and still must fly 
The fickle sons of wantonness and vanity. 
W here are the hopes of childhood—where of youth, 
Thejoyous vision which encharmed the view ? 
Where are the friends whose constancy and truth 
Would fresh for every scene our strength renew ? 
Our fathers, where are they ?—Beneath the yew; 
The mould’ring turf entombs their sacred earth ; 
Their clay unconscious drinks the evening dew, . 
And left behind with aught that gave them birth, 
Their Cate and pain, their hopes and noisy 
mirth. 
And haply soon o’er my departed dust, 
The lonely cypress will its branches wave, 
And soon, at most, receive its fragile trust, 
The narrow precinct of my humble grave. 
O God! and is there nought on earth can save— 
Nought that can teach me to avert the blow ? 
And is it vain a longer stay to crave ? 
And wilt thou surely lay thy creature low? — - 
Rereath thy chastening rod, O let me humbly 
ow! 
Hull. OvyTis. 
—— 
SONNET TO THE MOON. 
WHEN Heaven’s blest Architect was mild 
in mood, 
He fashion’d thee, thou Orb, so pure and 
bright ; 
And pleas’?d with his new work he sat and 
view’d : heh 
Thee, chaste-ey’d Beauty! shedding thy 
soft light. 
O lovely visitant! © fair-form’d sight ! 
Hail! source now issuing from the throne 
of Good! | 
Proof of his power and wisdom infinite. 
Thus angels sung, when first thou radiant 
mov'd, 
Night’s mild-rob’d ruler, as thou gently 
gleamest, 
Zon’d by yon clouds of stainless hue thy 
vest, 
Methinks some shepherd mid his fleck 
thou seemest ; 
Or snow-white dove, reclining on her nest. 
And oh! a sweeter, lovelier type thou 
beamest, 
Eve, wken she Eden’s bowers, light, lily: 
Jooted prest. Enorr. 
STEPHENSIANA, 
S ‘ 
