Yet, challenge him-he will not fight--
"He is too old-'tis past his day!"
Courageous coward! who, though young
Enough to dare the vilest action,

Yet feels, when he's achieved the wrong,
Too old to give you satisfaction.

EPIGRAM

ON AN IGNORANT BALLAD-MONGER.

Roc, en son lyrique abandon, &c.

Millevoye.

IN foolish song Ned tells the town

As still" for want of thought he whistles,"

That daily he devours the crown

By Phoebus on his head cast down

It surely was a crown of thistles.—

ADORATION.

Tout annonce d'un Dieu l'eternelle existence, &c.

Voltaire.

ALL earth proclaims the LIVING GOD, and his eter

nal reign,

The voice of the vast Universe proclaims his power

amain:

We comprehend not-yet we bow the' Almighty truth before

And the deep voice of our own hearts compels us to adore.

FROM THE FRENCH.

VERSES SENT BY MADAME LA MARESCHALE DE MIREPOIX,
TO M. LE DUC DE NIVERNOIS, WITH A LOCK OF
HER GREY HAIR.

Les voila, les cheveux depuis long temps blanchis, &c.

THOUGH

age

has steeped my

locks in snow,

To thee they should more welcome prove,

Since in their silvery sheen they flow,

The sacred pledges of long love!

I sigh not now, to think of all

My soul has been by time bereft :Ah, why the bitter past recall,

Whilst yet one faithful heart is left?

One soul on which my soul reclines-
One constant star that Time defies,
And in its wintry orbit shines

As bright as in youth's laughing skies.

Oh, Light of Love! thy radiance cheers My spirit with its lingering rayAnd sheds upon my "vale of years" The gladness of my summer day.—

Then welcome age and years to me!
And welcome be my locks of snow!
Since with the bliss of loving thee

They blend the right to tell thee so!—