a 
5 aa 
mas 
1801.] 
’ From ANACREON, - 
COME, thou beft of painters, come! 
Mafter of the Rhodian art, 
Whilé mem’ry with her image glows, 
Paint the miftrefs of my heart. 
Firftt her gloffy ringlets trace : 
—Paint them foft, and black as jet 5 
And, if fuch thy mimic pow’r, 
Paint them breathing every fweet. 
From the full luxuriant cheek, 
Peeping thro’ her duffy hair, - 
Let the ivory forehead rife — 
Brightly glittering, {mooth, and fair. 
Her eye-brows trace with fteadieft hand ; 
With care the graceful arch defign: 
Part not the bewitching curves, 
Nor yet unite the waving line. 
Shaded by a jetty lid, 
Paint me next her eye of fire, 
Sparkling bright with rays of fenfe, . 
Melting too with foft defire, 
Rofes blend with white milk— 
Tint her lovely cheeks with this; 
And her foft perfuafive lips / 
Challenging the lufcious kifs, 
Round her alabafter neck 
Let the wanton graces play 5 
Shade, with a robe of purple dye, 
The brighter charms that thun the day. 
But gently through the carelefs folds 
Let the fnowy bofom break: 
e—Enough! *tis the! I own thy power ; 
it breathes—it lives—it foon will fpeak ! 
W.Sszruerp. 
rs 
BALLAD. 
"TWAS on a cliff, whofe rocky bafe 
Baffled the briny wave ; : 
Whofe cuitur’d heights théir verdant fore 
To many tenant geve; 
A mother, led by ruftic cares; 
” Had wander’d with her child 5 
Unwean’d the. babe—yet on the grafs 
’ He frolick’a and he fmil’d. 
With what delight the mother glow’d 
. To mark the infant’s joy; 
How oft would paufe, amidf her toil, 
To contemplate her boy. 
Yet foon, by other cares eftrarged, 
Hex thoughts the child fortook ; 
Carelefs he wanton’d on the ground, 
- Nor caught his mothers look. 
Cropt was each flow’r that caught his eye, 
"Till, furambling o’er the green, 
-He gain’ the cliff’s unfhelter’d edge, 
Ans picas’d iurvey’d the fcene! 
Sen 
Orizinal Poetry: 
al Te 39 
*Twas now the mother, from her toil, 
Turn’d.to behold her child— 
The urchin gone !—hercheeks were flufh’d!— 
| Her wand’ring eye was wild! 
She faw him on the clif¥’s rude brink—— 
Now carelefs peeping o’er— 
He turn’d, and to his mother {mil’d, 
—Then fported as before. 
Sunk was her voice—twas Vain to flyae 
Twas vain the brink to brave—~ 
Oh Nature! it was thine alone 
To-prompt the means to fave! 
She tore the kerchief from her breaft, 
And laid her bofom bare: 
He faw delighted—left the brink, 
And fought to banquet there, 
H. R. 
er oe 
The DARTMOOR coTTER; &, the wipow 
and her Poy. 
ii MORE favage than the howl 
Of winter on the moor, ~ 
His voice, who once a widow drove © 
At midnight from his door, 
II. The hills were clad with fnow, 
_ And glimmer’d inthe moon, © 
Which, through the clouds, feem’d like the 
fun 
Obdfcur’d with mift at noon, 
Ill. From noon to midnight hour, 
The Dame her way purfued 
O’er hill and dale, o’er moorland wild, 
And mountain folitude, 
IV. Her pony with the cold 
Begins to droop and fink; 
Thefnow deny’d him grafs to eat,  - 
And ice, a pool to drink. 
V. The inn is nigh: fhe knocks, 
And calls aloud for aid, 
To lift her pony from the fnow, 
Where proftrate he was laid, 
VI. “* Away”—<a voice replies ; 
Nor has fhe anfwer more 5 
But, thiv’ring, liftens to the wind 
O’er Dartmeor-foreft roar. 
VIL. She thinks of home—fo far! 
With tears, and heaves a figh, 
’ When, lo! a found of horror fwellgs- 
‘The gale that whifties by. 
VIL A hollow groan refounds, 
And ftops her panting breath ; 
_ Alas! her pony’s plaintive moan. 
Bids her farewel in death ! 
IX. A cot in fight.fhe reach’d, 
Heartlefs again to knock ; 
But; at her call, a fwain unbars 
The door,-without a lock. 
X, Unlike 
