BY thy blue eye's languid roll, By the tear that dimm'd thine eye, By thy bosom's stealing sigh! Talk not of indifference now, While in every feature Looks, more strong than words, will show That 'tis not in thy nature. Thou wast form'd to love again, And prove thy vot❜ry's blessing; To feel the joy, to feel the pain, Not for pity's fruitless tear, Nor friendship's cold emotion, Not for words that die in air, But sparkling eyes and changeful cheek, OH! wert thou hail'd the sole queen For now I know thy dark wiles No more I pant with hope or fear; Yet bright still rolls thy dark eye, And some poor youth they shall entice But ah! thy flinty cold heart Ill suits thy beauty's treacherous glow 'Tis fraught with hollow female art, And ne'er could love or pity know. Ah, woe to him that loves thee! Not knowing thee he loves thee; For thou canst trifle with his woes, But passion never moves thee. With what true love I woo'd thee, Each sleepless night sad witness bears, My breast that glow'd with sighs for thee, My wan check wet with bitter tears: All told how much I lov'd thee, And thou didst know I lov'd thee, And thou couldst smile to see the pain Of him who dearly lov'd thee! But broken is the fond spell; My fate no more depends on thee; And thou perhaps one day shalt tell Thy sorrow and remorse for me: For none can ever love thee, As much as I did love thee; But I shall court my chains no more No! no! I cannot love thee! ON READING CHARLOTTE SMITH'S SONNETS. SMIT by misfortune in life's early day, On the chill sea-beach vents her bitter woe. Fruitless regrets! ye tear the wounded heart, That fondly cherishes its power to feel.- Forget what once I was-nor think what I must be. ON THE EARLY APPROACH OF WINTER, IN THE ISLAND OF ST. JOHN'S. OCTOBER 1803. AH stop!-retire!-nor yet invade, Red sets the sun at chilly eve, While rising winds howl loud around; And see! (quite lost its curling wave) The pool in glittering ice-bands bound! Too well these signs thy reign declare; Bid warmth, and day, and joy, farewel. Ah Winter, spare awhile the year, There forms that love thy pallid reign Huge shaggy monsters growl applause. |