GENEVIEVE. Maid of my Love! sweet GENEVIEVE ! * And sweet your Voice, as Seraph's song. When sinking low the Suff'rer wan *This little Poem was written when the Author was a boy. Fair, as the bosom of the Swan That rises graceful o'er the wave, I've seen your breast with pity heave, And therefore love I you, sweet GENEVIEVE! ABSENCE, A FAREWELL ODE. Where grac'd with many a classic spoil That sternly chides my love-lorn song: Ah me! too mindful of the days Illum'd by PASSION's orient rays, When Peace, and Chearfulness, and Health Enrich'd me with the best of wealth. Ah fair Delights! that o'er my soul Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole While Innocence stood smiling by! But cease, fond heart! this bootless moan. Those hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return, by ABSENCE crown'd, And scatter livelier roses round. The SUN, who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day : The Moon, that oft from Heav'n retires, Endears her renovated ray. What tho' she leave the sky unblest To mourn awhile in murky vest? We BLESS the Wanderer of the Night. LINES TO A BEAUTIFUL SPRING IN A VILLAGE. Once more, sweet Stream! with slow foot wand'ring near, I bless thy milky waters cold and clear. The HERMIT-FOUNTAIN of some dripping cell! |