ON PLANTING AND DEDICATING A NONDE.
I place thee in a cold retreat,
Where Summer's sunbeams slightly beat,-
For thee, a dwelling place, I've made,
'Mong things of kindred bloom and shado—
Secure with them, the driving storm,
Thy gentle stems shall not deform;
But, still throughout thy sacred sphere,
A Summer influence linger there.
Innoxious weeds shall never spread,
Their fatal influence on thy bed,
But merry birds on sportive wing,
Shall know thec as a sacred thing,
And come, with Zephyr hurrying by,
With odor, and rich melody;
While spirits, of a gentle make,
A wardship of thy world shall take,
And, viewless, watch thee by the light,
And dance around thee through the night-
Making thy home, a guarded place,
Secure from all of colder race,
And worthy of the gentle eyes,
For which, alone, I bid thee rise,
On pinions of the swiftest gale,
Joyful, thy glad return, I hail-
To Carolina's shore;
Each sea-born nymph conspired to guide,
Thy vessel through the foaming tide,
And bring thee back once more.
With rosy wine and chaplets gay,
I'll celebrate the smiling day
That brought thee here again;-
To Friendship's joys I'll sweep the Lyre-
Thy blest return my verse shall fire,
Escaped the raging main.
III.
Skilled in the magic, pleasing art;
Oft hast thou soothed a parent's heart,
That mourned her drooping child;-
Relieved her from the gulph of woe,
When death prepared his shaft to throw,
With aspect grim and wild.
From thee Hygeia's gifts arise,
On me be placed the Ivy prize,
Amid the echoing wood:-
Where nymphs and satyrs haunt the grove, 'Thro' woodland seenes I love to rove, Secluded from the crowd.
I dare not gaze upon thy form,
For, all too bright,
Those eyes that speak, those lips that warm,
Obscure the sight.
Yet, still I may thy charms rehearse,
With truth, and well;
And in each wild and vagrant versc,
Describe cach spell.
Thy spirit-speaking eye must be,
An endless theme;
Thy pure soul ever raise in me,
Some tranced dream.
Ah, still they wake in me the sigh,
And flows the tear!-
Ah, madness thus to venture nigh,
The spells I fear.
They glance too glorious, still, though sweet,
My soul has riven,
Even, as the lightning's winged sheet,
Comes yet from heaven.
Thou hast the crown that Virtue wreathes,
With beauty's spell-
And-but a word my spirit breathes,——
Farewell-farewell!
Farewell, farewell! I may not brook,
That changing eye, that careless look,
Nor live beneath thy scorn-
Thy spells are winning still to me,
But having ta'en my liberty
They are no longer worn.
Farewell! but though unshrinking thus,
I break the ties that coupled us,
I may not break the spell.
Through the long waste of life before,
I still must sigh when whisp'ring o'er,
That sorrowful farewell!
Forget me not-the Pilgrim's vow,
Was never breath'd more fervently,
Than that I murmur to thee now,
That thou wilt still remember me.
Forget ine not!" the fond reflection
That I shall live within thy thought,
Dispels each gloomy recollection,
And I repeat, "Forget me not.”
Forget me nota sweeter spell,
Ne'er bound or bless'd the youthful heart,
And each shall feel and cherish well,
The pledge each gives when doom'd to part.
Forget me not-but mine's a token,...
By memory ne'er to be forgot,
A heart that may be blighted, broken,
But loves, and will forget thee not.
If placid features, grace and ease,
The gazer's glance may bind-
And Beauty's charms forever please,
In thee, all these we find,
Well may the Muse exulting praise
Charms, winning all as thine,
For thee, attune her softest lays,
For thee her garlands twine.
But what fond Muse may paint thy heart,
Thy spirit, taste, refin'd
Or, where the Poet's daring art,
To search thy polish'd mind? 21915
Twould task a nobler Muse than mine,
Of such a theme to speak,
And not one Muse, but all the nine,
Might prove their labours weak. Bite!
But grant us jocund peace, our choicest treasure,
Which gives to life fair study's worthy leisure,
And wakes up holy fear, with chastened pleasure
Mildly combining.
The arts around her fecund bosom clinging,
View justice flourish, peopled cities springing,
And piety, each moral virtue bringing
Where war appears, integrity is blasted,
Law overthrown, and every blessing wasted,
Religion crush'd, and all its balm untasted,
'Mid desolation.
Long may our Jackson live, his country loving,
With golden Peace thro' all her vallies moving,
And Heaven itself fair Union's Sons approving.
Hail Happy Nation!
The rose thou gav'st is in decay,
Its bloom is gone, its odour fled,
And men would fing the wreck away,
For all its early charms are dead.
'Tis beauty's emblem, that poor flow'r,
Thus fading in its early morn-
The charm, the plaything of an hour,
Decreed, forever, thence, to scorn.
Not so-not sol Though bloom be past,
And youth with all its charms take wing
In memory will its freshness last,
Still tended by perpetual spring.
Thus will keep this wither'd flow'r,
In token of that early bloom;
And memory, heedful of her dow'r,
Shall plant it on affection's tomb..
TO A LADY WEEPING. norjats,T
If the tear thou sheddest now,
Speak a sorrow, deep and drear, and sek Then my own at once shall flow,
I will give thee tear or tear.
But if dreams of fancied wo,
Bring to view the crystal rill,, *} {foode
So lovely do they make you now,
I would have you weep them still.
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