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Soon on the eye the vivid col'ring fades,
Soon Hope's gay song in distant echo dies, While Mem'ry, pointing thro' her twilight shades, Pours her sad requiem o'er departed joys:
Ah! sweeter grace adorns the drooping rose,
Lovelier the gem which sparkles on the cheek,
Then, when too oft deceiv'd, the weary heart
And age and winter shed their influence hoar,
When the chill evening comes, and every blast
Smile on my lays, and teach them how to mourn.
ON THE EYES.
TELL me not of size or hue,
But, though sparkling with delight,
They'll surely please.
On Mr. Day, a very tall man,marrying Miss Knight,
who was rather short.
THIS match to me appears but right,
TO A LADY,
WITH A REPEATING WATCH.
HENCE, curious Toy!—to Laura go,
And dangle by her side,
Thou emblem of a modern beau,
When in her bed you hang in air,
When first she wakes at Jenny's knock,
Tell her-a lover in her arms,
TRANSLATED FROM CAMOENS.
YES-labour, love, and toil would please,
Why should I pant for sordid gain?
Or why Ambition's voice believe?
The only gift I have to give?
Time would with speed of light'ning flee,
SLEEP on, sweet maid, and wait th' Almighty's will, Then rise unchang'd, and be an angel still.
THE SORROWS OF MEMORY.
IN vain to me the howling deep
On fragrant beds of budding roses :
Since thou hast broke my heart, or nearly; While mem'ry writes in frequent tears, That I have lov'd thee very dearly!
How many summers pass'd away!
How many winters sad and dreary!
Whene'er thy soul of life was weary ;
For then I lov'd thee,-Oh how dearly!
And though the flush of joy no more
And talk of passion ever glowing—
A charm to bid it feel sincerely; Nor idly wound a breaking heart
That lov'd thee long, and lov'd thee dearly!