bh 
y 
4 
1809.] 
He now invokes her aid, who sings 
Thy worth, and his poor tribute brings ; 
Although in such an artless lay, 
In strains such as his numbers may. 
We know, alas! that thou (full well) 
A martyr to thy studies fell. 
Whilst others fast were lock’d in sleep, 
Thy nightly vigils thou didst keep. | 
When with affliction sorely prest, 
Thy busy mind could find no rest. 
Could midnight’s silent hours but speak, 
They'd tell, that, while upon thy cheek 
Appear’d the marks of dire disease, 
Consumption had begun to seize 
Thy frame, still was thy mind intent 
On knowledge, and still closely bent 
On the great business of thy days, 
To gain the meed of well-earn’d praise. 
How soon, alas! his race is run! 
How soon his fleeting days are gone!!! 
atenneeeeel 
IL NIDO DEGLI AMORI. 
]F admiration be thine end or aim, 
Already, my Irene, is it thine ; 
’ But quit the vain attempt, to waken love, 
In such a froward, captious heart as mine. 
Charming thou art, and amiable too; 
Nay, beauteous in my eyes thou e’er wilt be; 
But charms, nor beauty, of themselves alone, 
Have pow’r enough to weave a chain for 
me. 
If, in thine heart, the envied place to fill, 
(A boon of thine own off’ring), I decline ; 
O still let Censure, hasty to decide, 
Suspend her judgment ina case like mine } 
For, sweet Irene, by my hopes of bliss ! 
Within the dear enclosure of thy breast, 
Strangely prolific, beyond word or thought, 
A host of little Loves have buile their 
nest, 
One little flutterer, with toil begins 
To poise himself in air, and ‘* win his 
way. 3” 
Another, from his narrow. tomb, the shell, 
To force a ready passage into day. © 
Meat to the newly born the e/der bring, 
“With lavish zeal, for this their callow. 
brood 3 
These too, in turn, a /esser offspring guard, 
Who cling to them, and clamour for their 
good. . 
Een to the eye, the gathering croud appears, 
' To swell its numbers, and increasé the 
throng; : 
Countless already, and enough to foil, 
The sage Archytas, theme of ancient song. 
They are of every colour, that the morn, 
' When brib’d by Iris to restrain her tears, 
pix: < 5 
~ Puts on, half-pleas’d, and of a present vain, © 
« Which not a goddess in Olympus wears. 
é seems with violet to tinge his wings, 
~~ sdusther’s lily pinions, mock the. snow 
_ Original Poetry. 
2) 
Gre 
Some wear the © livery,”’ of sober dyowz, 
And others with the bright vermilion glow, 
Nay, e’en of grey fantastic! are there some, 
As wayward Fancy chuses to assume 3 
The golden pinion is not always best, 
Yet does it triumph o’er each other plume, 
Of different humours are these stripling foes, 
And all at variance ever are they found ; 
One ponders in his mind, and silent is, 
Another candid, prattles without bound. 
One, on his care-worn and suspicious brow, 
His sculptur’d grief, engraven deep, dis- 
plays; 
Another’s happiness, as firmly fix’d, 
Each smiling feature to the eye betrays. 
One, with the eloquence of grief, intreats, 
Anotoerarms with threat his swiftly-meving 
eyes i 
Oxe haughtily demands, another takes ; 
Oxe dearly loves to steal, but fears totry. 
Onc, from his rival, strives to snatch the bow, | 
Or of his torch another to beguile ; 
E’en, from his eyelids, one has lost the band ! 
Sill they intrigue, and still are friends the 
while. 
Fach, of his fellow has a mutual dread, 
All to each other bear a deadly hate ; 
Yet still they throng around, and still unite, 
As if gne common tie had bound their fate. 
Amid such tumult, such ecernal din, 
And didst thou hope that I cou’d ever 
dwell? 
In vain that idle hope, believe me, girl, 
My peace and blest repose I love too well. 
That chirping too, so shrill, that prattle 
loud; “aye 
Which tire the ear, and everlasting are 5 
That ceaseless flutter, which offends the eyes 
Not half a moment ever could I bear. 
A better choice, in truth, my dearest girl, 
It now becomes both you and me to make. 
Go, seek those youths, who more. obedient 
arey 
And hearts which languish for thy beou- 
teous sake. 
I, in return, a calmer spot will chuse3 
And since ’tis granted to all human-isind, | 
That mode to follow which their fancy suits, 
Keep thon thy ‘* nest,” but let repose be 
mine. 
But, ah! what Deity protects thy form ! 
How far more fair thy destiny will be! 
Thou canst indulge thy passion to its fll, 
And with a freedom, too, unknown to me. 
Simple and changing lovers are thy choice ; 
But for the constant ’tis, alas! £ care : 
The perjur’d and the changeable abound, 
But celt me where the fond and faithful 
ase | 
are : 
IL 
