BY OCTAVIUS GILCHRIST, ESQ. F.A.9.
STELLA! at twenty, o'er my heart
You may remember, girl, you gain'd An undivided rule; by art
Till now the empire have maintain'd.
Twelve months, unconscious of your pow'r,
Flew by, unmingled with alloy;
I heeded not the fleeting hour,
But shook my bonds with thoughtless joy.
As in the sportive dance I press'd
Thy hand, what sense of bliss was mine! What thoughts of transport throng'd my breast, With thrills of ecstasy divine !—
When circulates the festive cheer,
And each their favourites impart,
I hide the name to me most dear,
But toast thee, Stella! in my heart.
How oft with fonduess on the voice
That utter'd from thy lips I've hung,
How oft have gaz'd upon those eyes
That lend enchantment to the tongue;
Enraptur'd watch'd the crimson dye
Upon thy cheek quick come and go,
And caught the half-suppressed sigh,
That frequent from thy breast would flow.
Then curb ambitious beauty's scope,
Disdain the coquet's wand'ring part,
Nor "make the promise to my hope,
"And break it to my heart."
In pity to my anxious pains,
Let love pronounce my destiny; Bind me with thee in wedlock's chains, Or set my heart for ever free.
So shall I, as life's sorrows press;
Meet her stern frowns with brow serene,
Or mourn, in heart-sunk heaviness,
That love and hope are but a dream.
On a Person not celebrated for his Veracity,
On Tuesday next, says Tom to Ned,
I'll dine with you, and take a bed.-
You may believe him, Will replies,
Where'er Tom dines, he always LIES.
TO A REMONSTRATING FRIEND.
АH! chide me not, if yet once more
I seek that love long sought in vain;
Nor blame me if, while I adore,
My vows are answered with disdain.
Yes, I confess, 'tis poor, 'tis weak,
To droop, to sit with folded arms,
To bear a fever in my cheek,
And sorrow for an ingrate's charms.
Yet let me still my cares retain,
Still droop, with folded arms still sigh;
Nor mock me that I still remain
The willing captive of her eye.
For Love, with all his keenest smart,
Divine enchantment mingles still;
And, while he fires the conquer'd heart,
He charms with many a pleasing thrill,
And tortur'd thus, thus doom'd to mourn,
I still must feed this cherish'd grief,
And could my peace once more return,
My heart would scorn the poor relief.
Then chide me not, if yet once more
I seek that love long sought in vain ;
Nor blame me if, while I adore,
My vows are answered with disdain.
HAD I, my charmer, all the gold
That earth's unfathom'd caverns hold,
And every gem that ocean's wave
In secret views, and loves to lave;
Jewels of gold and silver more,
Than Queen e'er wish'd, or Sultan wore;
Or fond Arabian fram'd in tales
Of sapphire waves and diamond vales;
I vow by this enchanting kiss,
Nay, had I more than ten times this
All worlds of wealth, of ev'ry sort,
You should be ne'er the richer for 't.
BY THE LATE C. LEFTLY, ESQ.
Ir to have eyes that shed such goodly light
As lustrous stars upon the brow of Night;
If tangled tresses that in ringlets creep
Like russet leaves about the blushing grape;
Or if a song, like a clear brook fast flowing,
That stays the thirsting traveller's farther going;
If ought of these have any charms to move,
Surely, my sweet one, I have leave to love.
For these, and more, possess'd by thee, invite
The willing sense to banquet on delight.
Oh, I have seen thee lead old age astray,
That he hath sorrow'd o'er his setting day;
Mourn'd that the summer of his years were past,
And chid his strength for being spent too fast.
Ah, happy, Mistress, is the boyish time,
When the enthusiast, Youth, in wild amaze,
From burning beauty turns his dazzled gaze,
Sighs to excess, and eager to impart
The soft sensations of his restless heart
Chants the quaint sonnet in uneven rhyme.
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