1808. | ° 
THE WISH. 
GIVE me the nymph who charms with 
ease, 
Whose greatest pleasure is to please 5 
Whose passion ne’er tyrannic grows, 
But hand in hand with freedom goes ; - 
Who ne’er feels transports in her breast, 
Bur as she sees her lover blest :—= 
Tis such a nymph, and only she, 
Can hope to gain a heart from me. 
ag 
A FRAGMENT. 
ow much superior wisdom awes, 
The coldest bosoms find 5 
But with resistless force it draws, 
To sense and virtue join’d. 
The casket, where to outward show 
The artist’s hand is seen 5 
Is doubly valu’d, when we know, 
It holds a gem within, 
tare 
TO LAURA. 
O# ! unexampled maid, whose charms 
All my raptur’d thoughts possess ; 
Wherefore absent from my arms, 
Thus long—-ah! why so slow to bless? 
Go, gentle Zephyr 5 3 as you pass’d, 
Tell her you saw me in the grove, 
Impatient waiting; bid her haste 
To quiet my disorder’d breast, 
‘And tune my jatring soul to love. 
a 
LINES, 
WRITTEN EXTEMPORE, ON SEEING A 
BEAUTIFUL GIRL CARESS HER CAT. 
Wy Hat envious passions seize my breast, 
Whene’er I view Tom’s happy life! 
By thee belov’d, by thee carest, 
He knows no care, he knows no strife. 
Around thy beauteous form he strays, 
He owns no chiding hand but thine 5 
And with that hand he mildly plays, 
Whilst on thy bosom he reclines. 
Ah! could] but assume Tom’s farmy 
And gently on that bosom rest, 
Td softly hush each passing storm, 
And, sighing, whisper, ‘‘ lam blest.” _ 
T. M. 
a 
SONNET TO PEACE. 
OF ! stay thy pilgrim feet, most lovely 
maid, 
And cheer our social haunts with looks di- 
vine ; 
Here stop 5 repose ies in the sylv an shade, 
- For who can hurt a form so fair as thine ? 
Tis here sweet Nature ever loves tostray, 
In wood, or dell, oc up the mountain’s 
side ; 
To trace the wanderings of the devious wayy 
Or lave her polish’d limbs in yondes tide : 
Mont Mac., No, 172. 
Original Poetrys 
529 
Along the vale, the dusky hamlet seen, 
Her soft inspiring voice the bosom cheergy. 
Days full of love, unsulli ed and screne, 
And Joy the inmate of a Iength of years ; 
While thy sweet self shall hover o’er the 
scene, 
And guide the trembler’s steps, and calm 
her fears. 
April 20, 1808. A, C. 
ere 
FLORA’s LEVEE. 
RETURNING Summer’s genial rays had 
shed 
A new-sprung life on June’s reviving head ; 
A thousand odours fill’d the balmy breeze, 
And milder zephyrs fann’d the trembling 
trees, 
When many a shrub, and many an opening 
flower, 
Collected, smil’d in Flora’s bloomy bower., 
Her Pea: throne the jocund queen had 
made 
With circling roses, in the hawthorn’s shade ¢ 
Beneath her feet the modest Violet sprung, 
And clustering Lilies round her: temples 
hung 5 
Whilst ev’ry plant that owns her ample 
reign, 
Obey’d her summons to the painted plain. 
Then thus her studious eye, 
mind, 
To ail around some separate use assign’d ; 
Describ’d its attributes, and musing drew 
A moral lesson from each plant that grew. 
“*Inthee (she cried), fair-blooming Rose, 
we see 
The native charms of sweet simplicity ; 
Charms without art, and lovelier far than 
those, 
The garden’s boast, thy cultur’d rival knows. 
Thus humble virtue in the vale of life 
Escapes the noisy world’s insi vious strife. 
But thou, Spirza, seek th’ ensanguin’d plain, 
To battles fly, assuage the soldier's pain, 
Staunch the red tide that from his bosom 
flows, 
And kindly ease the fainting victim’s throes. 
And thou, Papaver, with Lethean power, 
Southe the wild anguish of the midnight 
hour ; 
Where feverish dreams the vretch oppress, 
repair, 
And bring a sweet oblivion to his care. 
Cheiranthus fair, o’er many a ruin spread ; 
Thine be the task to watch the slumb’ring 
dead, 
And grace, with golden hue, the solemn 
gloom 
Of Honour’s shrine, or Beauty’s mould’ring 
tomb. 
When parch’d with heat thro” many a sultry 
glade, 
The wearied traveller seeks the grateful 
shade, 5 
32 Thy 
and skilful . 
