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THYRSIS, when we parted, swore
Ere the spring he would returnAh! what means yon violet flower!
And the bud that decks the thorn ! 'Twas the lark that upward sprung! 'Twas the nightingale that sung!
Idle notes ! untimely green !
Why this unavailing haste ? Western gales and skies serene
Speak not always winter past. Cease, my doubts, my fears to move, Spare the honour of my love.
THUS Tophet look’d; so grinn'd the brawling
fiend, Whilst frighted prelates bow'd and call'd him friend. Our mother-church, with half-averted sight, Blush'd as she bless'd her grisly proselyte ; Hosannas rung through hell's tremendous borders, And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders.
SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, IN 1766, OF THE SEAT AND RUINS OF A DECEASED NOBLEMAN, AT
OLD, and abandon’d by each venal friend,
Here H- -d form'd the pious resolution To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend
A broken character and constitution.
On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice;
Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring sand; Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice,
And mariners, though shipwreck’d, dread to land.
Here reign the blustering North and blighting East,
No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing ;
Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast,
Art he invokes new horrors still to bring.
Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise,
Turrets and arches nodding to their fall, Unpeopled monast'ries delude our eyes,
And mimic desolation covers all.
“Ah!” said the sighing peer, “had B-te been true,
Nor M—'s, R—'s, B—'s friendship vain,
And realized the beauties which we feign :
“Purged by the sword, and purified by fire,
Then had we seen proud London's hated walls ; Owls would have hooted in St. Peter's choir,
And foxes stunk and litter'd in St. Paul's.”
PROPERTIUS, LIB. III. ELEG. V. V. 19.
“Me juvat in primâ coluisse Helicona juventâ,” &c.
LONG as of youth the joyous hours remain,
Me may Castalia's sweet recess detain, Fast by the umbrageous vale lulld to repose, Where Aganippe warbles as it flows; Or roused by sprightly sounds from out the trance, I'd in the ring knit hands, and join the Muses' dance. Give me to send the laughing bowl around, My soul in Bacchus' pleasing fetters bound; Let on this head unfading flowers reside, There bloom the vernal rose's earliest pride ; And when, our flames commission'd to destroy, Age step 'twixt Love and me, and intercept the joy; When my changed head these locks no more shall