THE REPLY.

BY M. LE DUC DE NIVERNOIS.

Quoi vous parlez de cheveux blancs, &c.

NAY, tell me not that Time has strewn
His wintry snows upon thy head—
Unmarked by me his flight has flown,
Unfelt by me his arrows sped:

For tender hearts can fear no wrong—
But, bathed in bliss, defy his rage-
And thus whilst Love is ever young,

The Graces are of every age.

And oh, Themira dear! for me

Whilst Love with soft and dove-like wing Fans the fond flame illumed by thee,

My heart enjoys one ceaseless spring.

Though life were new, and I were younger, And youth shone sparkling on my brow, Dearest, though I might love you longer,

I could not love you more than now!

TO SOPHIA.

WITH A ROSE-BUD.

Cette rose dans son bouton, &c.

THIS rose-bud is an emblem of thy youth,
In all its innocence, and all its truth,
And springs before its kindred flowrets now,
To be the first to deck thy gentle brow.-

LOVE'S TYRANNY.

Que tes lois, Amour, sont cruelles, &c.

Segrais.

THY laws, oh Love! are cruel-and unblest

The hearts thou hast inflamed are doomed to

prove;

But most unhappy still the faithful breast

Yet, Tyrant! who can live and never love?

L

LOVE ROBBED.

From the French of Vergier.

LOVE, weeping in his Mother's arms,
Dearest! complains of us in ire-
He vows your eyes have stolen his charms,
And that my heart conceals his fire.—