1808.] 
Yes there he roam’d in nature’s fullest pride, 
Nor any fear, or any danger knew, 
Save when the voice of frightful Obi* cried, 
Or from the clouds the winged ienteince 
flew. 
But careless now he sees the lightnings ay 
Behclds the main in dreadful fury toss‘d 5 
His only, ‘ondest wish, is how to die, 
For ev ry comfort, ev’ry hope is lost. 
Alas! my Samba! bursting sighs exclaim, 
Where now the Jove that charm’d my 
y youthful soul ? 
Is’t left me only to invoke thy name? 
While years of misery thus o’er me roll. 
Oh! could’st thou hear ’midst curses dreadful 
din 
The murd’rous lash that wounds my shat- 
ter’d frame— 
That lash which sounds my labour to be- 
gin, 
Whilst my indignant soul repels the 
shame ! 
To Samba thus he pour’d the plaintive song, 
And the faint breezes answered to his 
moan, 
In tears he curs’d the authors of his wrong, 
While oft in anguish burst the bitter groan, 
Middle Temple, L.5 
Tee 
THE SECOND EDEN, A POEMADDRESSED 
TOR Pp > ESQ. OCCASIONED BY 
SEEING A GROUPE OF HIS CHILDREN, 
DRINKING TEA WITH A SET OF SMALL 
CHINA-WARE UNDER AN APPLE-TREE, 
_ AN HIS GARDEN AT HAMPSTEAD. 
By S.J. PRATT, Esa. 
OU ask a tender but an arduous lay, 
Sweet childhood! who can sing thy cloud- 
less day ? 
Of ali our hours the whitest and the best, 
Nature devotes—-to infuncy the blest ! 
Yet some bright points, tn spite of storm and 
strife, 
Some points of time, shine fair in every life ; 
And these, however brief their date, or birth, 
The happy fondly call a—beaven on earth ! 
When first the ma’cen soldier, from the war, 
Alights victorious from his laurell’d ear ; 
When first the maiden sailor shares his prize, 
And with the treasure to his Nancy flies; 
When first the majden beauty wounds her 
swainsy 
And first the maiden bard his chaplet gains ; 
When first the bride presents a much-wished 
son, 
And the glad dei first reaches twenty-one ; 
When sehen lovers steal the first dear walk, 
How of this heaven on earth! th’ enthusiasts 
talk! 
* A deity much dreaded by all the ne- 
ght: 
Original Poetry. 
45 
The first of human joys they deem their own 
s¢ A heaven on earth!” each cries, is ** mine 
alone.” 
Yet oft, this: heaven on earth, like tulips, 
springs 
From mixture strong of sublunary things 5 
Tho’ pure at first the streams of life may 
flow, 
Full oft a muddy bottom glooms below ; 
When passions scare the turtle from her nest, 
Where ‘can her feathers smoothe, her foot 
have rest ? 
Tn riper years however good and fair, 
The world, the sullied world, will have its 
share. 
But CuiLrpHoop! 
*tis thine,» 
While yet on earth, to bear the traits divine ; 
Unspotted by the world, unknown toart, 
Already thou, of cherubim ar’t part ; 
No thoughts, no deeds, are thine that can 
annoy, 
No Wish but leads to innocence and joy 5 
Gay, vivid, tender, ever on the glow, 
Like summer air, chaste as winter snow. 
Thy ev’ry moment wing’d with balmy bliss, 
Sincere thy smile and seraph pure thy kiss ; 
Or if a transient tear-drop bathes thy eyes, 
Scarce do we see it tremble e’er it dies : 
Yes, angel childhood, yes, to thee is given== 
And ah! tothee alone on earth a heaven! 
Angel CnitpHoop! O 
Would you this truth by illustration see, 
Join yonder party of the apple-tree ; 
Tints of the godhead there illume the place, 
Each mind a Virtue, and each form a Grace, 
A sEcOND EDEN in yon garden fair, 
Blooms like the first, e’er sin found entrance 
there! 
THE TINY TEA-TABLE. 
CHANGE, my muse, O change the measure 
To the smoothest note of pleasure 5 
Flora, thou a garland twine, 
Meet for Childhood’s lilied shrine 5 
Form the wreath of love andtruth, 
Breathing beauty, breathing youth! 
See, O see, each pure delight 
Pour upon the raptur’d sight. 
Rose and Woodbine blooming round, 
Hear, O hear, each blissful sound, _ 
Prank and whim, and impulse wild, 
Heary=and wish thyself a child. 
Close beneath yon spreading shadey 
Fit for happy creatures madey 
Lo! the tiny TABLE sety 
And those happy creatures met ; 
Angels, round a mortal board 
With the sweets of nature stor’d { 
?Tis not sure the stream of tea. 
"Tis not mortal fruits we see ; 
Or if mortal, ee 
Surely might partake the feast : 
Rose and woodbine blooming round, 
Hear, O hear, each blissful sound ; 
Prank and whim and impulse wild! 
Hearerand wish thow wert a child ! 
_Wisu 
