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“ No longer from thy window look,
- Thou hast no son, thou tender mother! “ No longer walk thou lovely maid!
“ Alas, thou hast no more a brother! “ No longer seek him east or west,
« And search no more the forest thorough; “ For, wandering in the night so dark,
" He fell a lifeless corse in Yarrow.
os The tear shall never leave my cheek,
“ No other youth shall be my marrow; " I'll seek thy body in the stream,
“ And then with thee I'll sleep in Yarrow.” The tear did never leave her cheek,
No other youth became her marrow ; She found his body in the stream,
And now with him she sleeps in Yarrow.
On the Death of a young Lady.
The peace of Heaven attend thy shade,
My early friend, my favourite maid!
When life was new, companions gay,
We hail'd the morning of our day.
Ah, with what joy did I behold
The flower of beauty fair unfold,
And fear'd no storm to blast thy bloom,
Or bring thee to an earthly tomb!
Untimely gone! for ever fled
The roses of the cheek so red;
The affection warm, the temper mild,
The sweetness that in sorrow smiled.
Alas! the cheek where beauty glow'd,
The heart where goodness overflow'd,
A clod amid the valley lies,
And dust to dust the mourner cries.
O, from thy kindred early torn,
And to thy grave untimely borne ;
Vanish'd for ever from my view,
Thou, sister of my soul, adieu!
Fair with my first ideas twined,
Thine image oft will meet my mind;
And, while remembrance brings thee near,
Affection sad will drop a tear.
How oft does sorrow bend the head,
Before we dwell among the dead !
Scarce in the years of manly prime,
I've often wept the wrecks of time,
What tragick tears bedew the eye!
What deaths we suffer ere we die !
Our broken friendships we deplore,
And loves of youth that are no more!
No after-friendship e'er can raise
The endearments of our early days;
And ne'er the heart such fondness prove,
As when it first began to love.
Affection dies, a vernal flower,
And love, the blossom of an hour;
The spring of fancy cares controul,
And mar the beauties of the soul.
Versed in the commerce of deceit,
How soon the heart begins to beat!
The blood runs cold at interests' call: -
They look with equal eyes on all.
Then lovely nature is expell’d,
And friendship is romantick held:
Then prudence comes with hundred eyes :-
The veil is rent-the vision flies.
The dear illusions will not last;
The era of enchantment's past ;
The wild romance of life is done ;
The real history is begun.
The sallies of the soul are o'er,
The feast of fancy is no more;
And ill the banquet is supplied
By form, by gravity, by pride.
Ye Gods! whatever ye withhold,
Let my affections ne'er grow cold;
Ne’er may the human glow depart,
Nor Nature yield to frigid art !
Still may the generous bosom burn,
Though doom'd to bleed o'er beauty's urn;
And still the friendly face appear,
Though moisten’d with a tender tear.
HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove !
Thou messenger of spring !
Now heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.
What time the daisy decks the green, •
Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful visitant! with thee
I hail the time of Powers,
And hear the sound of musick sweet
From birds among the bowers.
The school-boy, wandering through the wood
To pull the primrose gay,
Starts, the new voice of spring to hear,
And imitates thy lay.
What time the pea puts on it's bloom
Thou fliest the vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,
Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear ;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year!
Oh could I fly, I'd fly with thee !
We'd make with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the spring-