Farewell to thee, France! - but when Liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then-
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again –
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice.
There are links which must break in the chain that has

bound us,

Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice.

WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF "THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY."

ABSENT or present, still to thee,

My friend, what magic spells belong!

As all can tell, who share like me,

In turn thy converse, and thy song.
But when the dreaded hour shall come,
By Friendship ever deemed too nigh,
And "MEMORY" o'er her Druid's tomb
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,

How fondly will she then repay

Thy homage offered at her shrine,
And blend, while ages roll away,

Her name immortally with thine!

STANZAS.

CHILL and mirk is the nightly blast,
Where Pindus' mountains rise,
And angry clouds are pouring fast
The vengeance of the skies.

Our guides are gone, our hope is lost,
And lightnings, as they play,

But show where rocks our path have crost,
Or gild the torrent's spray.

Is yon a cot I saw, though low?

When lightning broke the gloom

How welcome were its shade! — ah, no!

"Tis but a Turkish tomb.

Through sounds of foaming waterfalls,

I hear a voice exclaim

My way-worn countryman, who calls
On distant England's name.

A shot is fired-by foe or friend?
Another 'tis to tell

The mountain peasants to descend,
And lead us where they dwell.

Oh! who in such a night will dare
To tempt the wilderness?

And who 'mid thunder peals can hear
Our signal of distress?

And who that heard our shouts would rise

To try the dubious road?

Nor rather deem from nightly cries

That outlaws were abroad.

Clouds burst, skies flash, oh, dreadful hour!
More fiercely pours the storm!

Yet here one thought has still the power
To keep my bosom warm.

While wandering through each broken path,
O'er brake and craggy brow;
While elements exhaust their wrath,

Sweet Florence, where art thou?

Not on the sea, not on the sea,
Thy bark hath long been gone:
Oh, may the storm that pours on me,
Bow down my head alone!

Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc,
When last I pressed thy lip;

And long ere now, with foaming shock,
Impelled thy gallant ship.

Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now
Hast trod the shore of Spain:
"T were hard if aught so fair as thou
Should linger on the main.

And since I now remember thee
In darkness and in dread,
As in those hours of revelry
Which mirth and music sped,

Do thou amidst the fair white walls,
If Cadiz yet be free,

At times from out her latticed halls
Look o'er the dark blue sea;

Then think upon Calypso's isles,
Endeared by days gone by;
To others give a thousand smiles,
To me a single sigh.

And when the admiring circle mark
The paleness of thy face,

A half-formed tear, a transient spark
Of melancholy grace,

Again thou 'lt smile, and blushing shun Some coxcomb's raillery;

Nor own for once thou thought'st of one, Who ever thinks on thee.

Though smile and sigh alike are vain,
When severed hearts repine,

My spirit flies o'er mount and main,
And mourns in search of thine.

A SKETCH.

BORN in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;
Next - for some gracious service unexprest,
And from its wages only to be guessed -
Raised from the toilet to the table, — where
Her wandering betters wait behind her chair.
With eye unmoved, and forehead unabashed,
She dines from off the plate she lately washed.
Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie -
The genial confidante, and general spy -
Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess
An only infant's earliest governess!
She taught the child to read, and taught so well,
That she herself, by teaching, learned to spell.
An adept next in penmanship she grows,
As many a nameless slander deftly shows;
What she had made the pupil of her art,
None know

- but that high Soul secured the heart, And panted for the truth it could not hear,

With longing breast and undeluded ear.
Foiled was perversion by that youthful mind,

Which Flattery fooled not-Baseness could not blind,

Deceit infect not

Indulgence weaken

nor Contagion soil —

nor Example spoil

Nor mastered Science tempt her to look down

On humbler talents with a pitying frown —