* Shall the bright daughter of the sun “ And thou, dull, sullen evergreen "Deluded flower!" the myrtle cries, "Shall we thy moment's bloom adore? The meanest shrub that you despise, The meanest flower has merit more. "That daisy, in its simple bloom, Shall last along the changing year; Blush on the snow of winter's gloom, And bid the smiling spring appear. "The violet, that, those banks beneath, "E'en I, who boast no golden shade, Am of no shining tints possess'd, When low thy lucid form is laid, Shall bloom on many a lovely breast. "And he, whose kind and fost'ring care "Deluded flower! the friendly screen "But kindly deeds with scorn repaid, ray, Fierce on the flower the scorching beam Expanded by the searching fire, The curling leaves the breast disclos'd; The mantling bloom was painted higher, And ev'ry latent charm expos'd, But when the sun was sliding low, The wanton beauty ceas'd to blow, And sought her bending leaves to fold. Those leaves, alas! no more would close; They left her to a parent's woes, And fled before the rising gale. London Magazine. THE JUDICIOUS BACHANAL. WHILE the bottle to humour and social delight While it happily keeps up the laugh of the night, O let me enjoy it, ye bountiful powers, That time may deliciously pass, And should Care ever think to intrude on these hours, Scare the haggard away with the glass.' But, instead of a rational feast of good sense, Should the man I esteem, or the friend of my breast, Should I make sweet Religion a profligate jest, From my lips dash the poison, O merciful fate, Where the madness or blasphemy hung, And let every accent which virtue should hate, Parch quick on my infamous tongue.. From my ear let the curse be eternally driven, THE OLD ENGLISHMAN. I'LL tell you why I love my love; She's very fair, and very good, Wherever muse has fir'd the strain, On British, or on Tuscan plain, Delighted has she rov'd ; Has glow'd with all the gen'rous rage That animates the story'd page, By British bosoms lov'd.. Ibid. Oft has she sought, with careful feet, And trac'd with thought profound . Has learn'd the flatt'ring paths to shun, Where folly's fickle vot❜ries run, Deceiv'd by fortune's glare; Has learn'd that food, and clothes, and fire, Nor forms for more her pray'r. Content with these, my Geraldine For well she knows my heart; She knows it pants for her alone, London Magazine. |