ΤΟ

REMEMBER him thou leav'st behind,
Whose heart is warmly bound to thee,

Close as the tend'rest links can bind
A heart as warm as heart can be.

Oh! I had long in freedom rov'd, Though many seem'd my soul to share; 'Twas passion when I thought I lov'd, 'Twas fancy when I thought them fair.

Ev'n she, my muse's early theme,
Beguil'd me only while she warm'd;
'Twas young desire that fed the dream,
And reason broke what passion form'd.

But thou -ah! better had it been
If I had still in freedom rov'd,

If I had ne'er thy beauties seen,
For then I never should have lov'd.

enough to forgive such inoffensive follies: you know that the pious Beza was not the less revered for those sportive Juvenilia which he published under a fictitious name; nor did the levity of Bembo's poems prevent him from making a very good cardinal.

Believe me, my dear friend,

With the truest esteem,

Yours,

T. M.

JUVENILE POEMS.

FRAGMENTS OF COLLEGE EXERCISES.

Nobilitas sola est atque unica virtus. Juv.

MARK those proud boasters of a splendid line,
Like gilded ruins, mouldering while they shine,
How heavy sits that weight of alien show,
Like martial helm upon an infant's brow;
Those borrow'd splendours, whose contrasting light
Throws back the native shades in deeper night.

Ask the proud train who glory's shade pursue, Where are the arts by which that glory grew? The genuine virtues that with eagle-gaze Sought young Renown in all her orient blaze!

Where is the heart by chymic truth refin'd,
Th' exploring soul, whose eye had read mankind?
Where are the links that twin'd, with heav'nly art,
His country's interest round the patriot's heart?

Justum bellum quibus necessarium, et pia arma quibus nulla nisi in armis relinquitur spes.-LIVY.

Is there no call, no consecrating cause,
Approv❜d by Heav'n, ordain'd by nature's laws,
Where justice flies the herald of our way,
And truth's pure beams upon the banners play?

Yes, there's a call sweet as an angel's breath
To slumb'ring babes, or innocence in death;
And urgent as the tongue of Heav'n within,
When the mind's balance trembles upon sin.

Oh! 'tis our country's voice, whose claim should meet An echo in the soul's most deep retreat;

Along the heart's responding chords should run,

Nor let a tone there vibrate-but the one!