We roam'd about this woodland scene,

And down the hill and through the meadow, Till lowering, sombre, and serene,

Dim Evening threw her shadow;

And dews unheard were falling round,
And in the south a star was twinkling,
And from afar, with fitful sound,
The curfew bell was tinkling.

I press'd her hand in mine; the blush
Of meek and maiden perturbation
Came o'er her features, like the flush
Which crimsons the carnation.

I caught her gaze-it thrill'd my heart-
In silence eloquently pleading;
From her my thoughts could not depart,
And of nought else were heeding.

We parted with a fond embrace-
I stood and gazed in melancholy,
Even as a pilgrim turns his face
To Mecca's temple holy!

But ere yon hedge-row from my sight
The Peri of my hope had banish'd,
She waved her hand of lily white,
And like a spirit vanish'd !—

Long years since then have fled; and all My hopes divine and dreams Elysian Have pass'd, like sunshine from a wall, In mockery of vision.

But fair is Nature-oh! how fair

Are all her beauties spread before me; The tearful star, with dewy hair,

Beams tremulously o'er me;

The shades are darkening o'er the dell ; The night-fog hangs above the river; Beloved scenes, farewell-farewell!

For ever, and for ever.

FEMALE DECAY.

THY looks were soft; thy cheek was fair;
Thy glance was, ah! too heavenly bright:
But then, we might have omen'd there,
From purer day, a darker night :
Since even the sun, when in the west,
Shines sweetest as he sinks to rest.

Throughout the winter's brooding gloom,
I mark'd the lines of slow decay,
The roses of thy cheek consume;

Like rainbow tints they died away;
And pale, but placid, thou did'st greet

The doom, that some have shrunk to meet.

The wintry winds were hush'd to rest :
The fields array'd in robes of green ;
The songster built its little nest;

The blossom on the tree was seen;
The earth put on a livelier hue;
The sky its clear and cloudless blue;

Then, by the jasmined lattice, thou,

As fell the twilight shades, hast sate,
Hast smiled to see the flower in blow,
And Nature's finger renovate
The spring, as by a second birth ;---
It was the last to thee on earth!

Oh! had'st thou felt Misfortune's rage;
Had hopeless sorrows marr'd thy lot;
Our tears, our grief, it might assuage,

To think that now thou feel'st them not:-
But, thou from earth wert rapt away,
When friends were kind, and nature gay.

The patriot, till his parting hour,

When doom'd in distant realms to dwell

Feels not affection's giant power,

Nor knew he loved his land so well.

So we, who mourn the fatal blow,
May guess thy value from our woe!

I rest within the very walls

Where I have seen thee sadly gay; Now, thou art deaf to mortal calls; Thou wert the flower of yesterday; And roses, of as transient bloom, Exhale their fragrance o'er thy tomb!

It is a white and simple stone,

That tells thy name, and timeless fate;

Within the grove it stands alone,

Beneath the boughs where thou hast sate;

And birds, allured by scene so fair,

Make melancholy music there.

Thou wert a meteor that did'st gleam
Before our eyes, and pass'd away;
And now to memory art a dream
Of loveliness, in pale decay;
Thy steps have sought another shore;

And we behold thy smiles no more!