TO HIS MISTRESS.

I WISH I could, like Zephyr, steal
To wanton o'er thy mazy vest;
And thou wouldst ope thy bosom-veil,
And take me panting to thy breast!

I wish I might a rose-bud grow,

And thou wouldst cull me from the bower,

To place me on that breast of snow,

Where I should bloom, a wintry-flower.

I wish I were the lily's leaf,

To fade upon that bosom warm;

Content to wither, pale and brief,

The trophy of thy fairer form.

Exulting in thy curls of flaming gold.
Thy coronal are rays of dazzling light
Revolving much, and pouring on the earth,
From their blest fountains, splendours ever

bright:

While of thy rivers of immortal fire

DAY, the beloved, is born.

For thee, the choirs Of tranquil stars perform their mystic round O'er heaven's imperial pavement;-with thy lyre,

Oh! Phœbus, warbling forth its ceaseless notesDelighted:

While the Moon serenely clear, Borne onward in her steer-drawn team of light, Heralds the changeful seasons-and her heart With pleasure glows-while clothing dædal earth With beauteous vestments of a various hue.

THE KISS.

THE kiss, that she left on my lip,

Like a dew-drop, shall lingering lie; 'Twas nectar she gave me to sip, 'Twas nectar I drank in her sigh. From the moment she printed that kiss, Nor reason nor rest has been mine, My soul has been drunk with the bliss, And feels a delirium divine.

A LAMENTATION FOR THE SOUL.
FULL* oft a maiden to her virgin bed
Hath borne, with faltering steps, the bridegroom
dead;

In love's resplendent robe array'd in vain,
Hath waked, mid tears and groans, the funeral strain;
While all her handmaids, and her friends around,
Conspire to swell the melancholy sound.
Full oft a mother o'er her fallen child
Hath wrung her hands and wept with anguish wild.
Men oft have mourn'd their country's blighted fame,
Their homes laid prostrate by the lightning flame.
But ah! what tears, or sighs, or notes of wo,
For thee, my soul, can adequately flow?
Heaven's beauteous image is effaced by sin,
And all is dark, and all is foul within.
O'er Death's domain thy nodding ruins bow:
Weep, sinner, weep, 'tis all thy refuge now.
Yes, I will leave the gay and roseate bower,
The joy that lives a transitory hour,
The fleeting bliss that hangs on fortune's power;
Yes, I will shun Aurora's lovely light,

And veil this shuddering frame in genial night;

I should suppose that such a case did not occur often; but I translate the word literally.

Such joys let others prize: but o'er my head,
Repentant ashes shall be duly spread.
While on my couch this fading form shall lie,
My groans will thrill, will melt each mourner nigh.
The transient balm of pity may be mine,
But soon, O Death, these relics must be thine.
Think not thy gates my trembling spirit scare;
I fear alone the dread tribunal there.
O God! O God! from sin my soul would fly:
Let sable clouds enwrap my form on high,
Or be it mine, mid gulfs profound to lie!
A realm from ills secure, the poets feign,
Where no fell savage haunts the beauteous plain.
Is there no spot from Sin's dominion free?
If such exist, to that I fain would flee.

A port defends from storms; from spears, a shield;
And our sweet homes a grateful shelter yield,
When howls the blast: but Sin, her whelming tide
Around us pours, and reigns on every side.
A flaming car to heaven Elias bore;
From Pharaoh's hand was Moses saved of yore;
Jonah escaped the whale; wild beasts grew tame
At Daniel's feet; the youths survived the flame,
Though bright the furnace glow'd: but ah! to me
What flight from Sin remains? O Jesus, set me
free.

ADMONITIONS TO VIRGINS.
WITH circumspection tread life's slippery ground,
And ever waiting on thy God be found.
Be thou as Hesper 'mid the starry train;
The pearl 'mid gems; the lily on the plain;
'Mid birds the dove; the olive in the wood;
The calm that smoothes the bosom of the flood.
The world's unhallow'd joys, O virgin, spurn,
And unto Christ, thy radiant bridegroom, turn.
Lead him, O lead him, to thy fragrant bower,
Where Purity unfolds her spotless flower;
Where every charm and every beauty meets,
Perennial pleasures and immortal sweets.
In his most sacred hand, thy hand infix,
And thy pure myrrh with myrrh celestial mix.
O blend thy pure ineffable desire,

With the chaste fervour of his hallow'd fire;
And all the graces in thy soul combined,
Blend with the graces of the heavenly mind!
Let Him thy bright, thy glorious beauty see;
Let Him thy lover and thy bridegroom be!
Lo! he hath drawn thy maiden veil aside,
And wonder'd, viewing his transcendent bride;
August, enthroned, in orient pearl array'd,
Lovely before, and now far lovelier made.
Thy Lord will bear thee to his seat on high,
And spread the bridal feast above the sky;
While choral angels, with aerial strains
And heavenly warblings, fill the golden plains.
Thy Lord will bear thee to his radiant bowers,
And wreathe thy head with ever blooming flowers;
For thee, the vine-empurpled cup infuse
With balm nectareous, and ambrosial dews;
Bid sacred Wisdom's awful page unrol,
And pour its radiance on thy raptured soul.

*Mapyapov ev daɛooiv. The Ancients considered pearls to be much more valuable than we do. They ranked them among the precious stones.

For here we faintly trace with view confined,
The veil'd effulgence of th' Almighty mind:
But there 'twill prove our glorious lot, to see
Th' unclouded blaze of naked Deity!
The flesh sublimed, will own the spirit's sway,
And drink the flood of ever-during day.

Ye youths and virgins, who with hallow'd fire
Adore the Leader of th' angelic choir,
With hearts attuned and voice symphonious, sing
The heavenly nuptials of your God and King.
O bid your intellectual torches shine,
The humble semblance of the light divine;
Let holy words and actions fan the fire,
Till the pure flame to heaven's pure flame aspire.

And thou, O Triune Power, benign descend: Deign from thy throne, benignly deign to bend, While we with awe invoke thee. Let thy beam Illume us here with mild attemper'd gleam: But oh! hereafter may thy glory stream In all the splendour of its brilliant rays,One flood of light-one clear refulgent blaze! As Father, Word, and Spirit, fully shine, All great, all glorious, perfect, and divine!

ON A YOUTH OF FAIR PROMISE. EUPHEMIUS slumbers in this hallowed ground, Son of Amphilocus, by all' renown'd: He, whom the Graces to the Muses gave, Tuneful no more, lies mouldering in the grave: The minstrels came to chaunt his bridal lay, But swifter Envy bore the prize away.

Another on the same.

EUPHEMIUS flash'd, then veil'd his dazzling beam, As bright and transient as the lightning's gleam.