1803.] 
Ah ! let me gaze upon thy feraph fmile, 
Whofe sfunthine ftil/ can warm this defert 
re breaft 5 
Still let thofe accents fpread their magic 
wile 
That fweetly oft have lull’d my woes to 
reft. 
Pour on my fainting foul thy melting notes, 
Softer than Spring’s lone minjftrel can be- 
5 ftow ; : 
While thro’ the lif’ning air thy cadence 
flouts, 
The figh fhall ceafe, the tears forget to 
flow. 
Still let me paufe, and catch that liquid 
glance, 
Feel on my heétic cheek the musky 
-reath 3 
Still lock’d in fancy’s rich and melting 
trance, 
No longer mourn o’er friendfhip’s early 
death. 
Have I not rhee my erring fteps to guide ? 
Have I not thee to fmile my griefs away ? 
Thee in whofe bofom flows Truth’s,mant- 
ling tide, 
Whofe proud mind blazes in eternal day. 
What hand fhall sketch the out-line of that 
mind? 
_ What pencil dare its excellence to trace ? 
What touch fo bold, what colours fo refin’d 
As fuit the drap’ry ef each awful grace! 
Friend! Parent, Guardian of my virgin fame ! 
The beaming orb that lights my dubious 
| way 5 
When will thy tongue my paffions fail to 
tame, 
Thy conq’ring virtues ceafe to urge their 
{way ? 
Let others found the praife of trait’rous Love, 
Let others weave the light fantaftic dream 3 
To loftier regions fhall my fancy rove, 
My artlefs lyre fhail boaft a nobler theme. 
Accept the verfe, O pilot of my life! 
Let not thy polifh’d tafte difdain the fong 5 
*Twill footh this fev’rith frame’s rebellious 
ftrife, 
And bid foft peace in filence fteal along. 
Or let me mufe o’er nature’s vanifh’d bloom, 
And try the balm retirement can impart 5 
I feel, I feel, my fpirit pant for room 5 
The world weighs heavy on this bankrupt 
heart. 
A barren world! where coward Guilt refides, 
Whole pois’nous whifper blafts the blufh 
of Youth 3 
Where fickning Want from all its mis’ry 
hides, 
Where Falfhood lurks beneath the veil of 
Truth. 
Soft as the argent whitenefs of the morn, 
Does Love’s gay fmile the dazzled fight 
arreft 5 
But foon by Reafon’s hand the mask is torn, 
And ail the deep deception faads confett, 
Montrury Mac. No, 103, 
Original Poetry. Chi 
Yet hold !—one ftar in life’s dark sky ree 
mains, 
Not yet to me is all its bloom defaced ; 
For thou majeftic, ftill while tumult reigns, 
Sit’ft in proud grandeur ’midft creation’s 
watte. 
Chelfea, Now.17, 
7303, 
_—aeneastairenne 
A TRUE STORY, 
IN THE SPRING oF 1802. 
By MRs. LE NOIR. 
FAIR Spring, a,,) 5 relu€tant maid, 
Advanc’d wirti timid pace 5 
For Winter, uneriuring blade, 
Half fought the nymph’s embrace ¢ 
Untimely fhow’rs the Naiads grieve, 
‘O’erflowing every urn ; 
And fad Pomona fhrinks at eve, 
And fickens at the morn. 
From climes remote, on weary wing, 
Arrive a helplefs train, y 
Which, cire’ling low in airy ring, 
Seek food and reft in vain: 
For rude inhofpitable bands _ 
The harmlefs flight annoy, 
And ftones and ftaves, from cruel handgy 
Or mangle or deftroy. 
One youthful ftraggler panting Jay, 
Lefs wounded than afraid, 
When Ellen chanc’d to pafs that way, 
Atender-hearted maid: — 
Alas!-poor emigrant, fhe cried, 
And laid him on her breaft ; 
From favage boys there fafe abide, 
We harbour the diftreft, 
But, ali! how hard it is to rear 
The emigrating bird, 
To Ellen, inexperienc’d fair, 
It never once occurr’d : 
Eliza, eager, not lefs kind, 
Receiv’d it with afigh 5 
Alas ! its food we cennot find, 
Then gave it libecty ! 
But fcarce releas’d, with fuppliant noifey 
It beat againft the pane 5 
Oh, take me fromm the barb’rous boys, 
It feem’d to fay, again: 
To fave the fond confiding thing 
The tender femaies plann’d, 
And, with his head beneath his wing, 
He flept on each ones hand. 
The nymphs a fhelter’d bed prepare, 
OF cotton foft as down, 
Arrange it with the nicef care, 
And place it near their own: 
At early dawn they anxious rife, 
And lift, with ftifled breath ; 
But cold and motionlefs he lies, 
He fleeps the fleep of death. 
Now laid, while pitying eyes bewail, 
Beneath the mofiieft rofe, 
The little hero of my tale 
Has undifturb’d repofe. 
3M VERSES 
