'Tis true, it talks of danger nigh, Where pleasure's throb or tears of sorrow Well!-there are some, thou stormy bed, Whose lip hath drain'd life's cup of pleasure, Yes-he can smile serene at death: Kind Heaven! do thou but chase the weeping Tell them that he lies calmly sleeping, ODES TO NEA; WRITTEN AT BERMUDA. Νέα τυραννει. EURIPID. Medea, v. 967. NAY, tempt me not to love again : So many a time the rounds of pain, If there be climes where never yet Where rosy cheek or radiant eye Should bring no more their bliss, their pain, Dear absent girl! whose eyes of light, As when they first enamouring shone! Say, Nea dear! couldst thon, like her, Endearing still, reproaching never, Could bind such faithless folly fast: And sure on earth 't is I alone Could make such virtue false at last! Nea! the heart which she forsook, For thee were but a worthless shrineGo, lovely girl, that angel look Must thrill a soul more pure than mine. Oh! thou shalt be all else to me, That heart can feel or tongue can feign; I'll praise, admire, and worship thee, But must not, dare not, love again. Tale iter omne cave. I PRAY you, let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore, Where late we thoughtless stray'd; 'Twas not for us, whom Heaven intends To be no more than simple friends, Such lonely walks were made. That little bay where, winding in From Ocean's rude and angry din (As lovers steal to bliss), The billows kiss the shore, and then Flow calmly to the deep again, As though they did not kiss! Remember, o'er its circling flood I saw you blush, you felt me tremble, All that we wish'd and thought; I stoop'd to cull, with faltering hand, I raised it to your lips of dew, Oh! trust me, 't was a place, an hour, You read it in my languid eyes, And there alone should love be read; You hear me say it all in sighs, And thus alone should love be said. Then dread no more; I will not speak; Although my heart to anguish thrill, spare the burning of your cheek, And look it all in silence still! lleard you the wish I dared to name, To murmur on that luckless night, When passion broke the bonds of shame, And love grew madness in your sight? Divinely through the graceful dance You seem'd to float in silent song, Bending to earth that beamy glance, As if to light your steps along! Oh! how could others dare to touch Too rare for all but Heaven and me! With smiling eyes, that little thought My soul forgot-nor, oh! condemn, I dared to speak in sobs of bliss, Rapture of every thought bereft me, I would have clasp'd you-oh, even this!— But, with a bound, you blushing left me. Forget, forget that night's offence, Forgive it, if, alas! you can, 'T was love, 't was passion-soul and sense— "T was all the best and worst of man! That moment did the mingled eyes Of heaven and earth my madness view, I should have seen, through earth and skies, Did not a frown from you reprove, I should have-oh, my only love! A DREAM OF ANTIQUITY. I JUST had turn'd the classic page, And traced that happy period over, When love could warm the proudest sage, And wisdom grace the tenderest lover! Before I laid me down to sleep, Upon the bank awhile I stood, Her tears of light on Ariel's flood. I felt as if the scenery there Were lighted by a Grecian skyAs if I breathed the blissful air That yet was warm with Sappho's sigh! And now the downy hand of rest To polish Virtue's native brightness, Can give to pearls a smoother whiteness! GASSENDI thinks that the gardens which Pausanias mentions, in his first Book, were those of Epicurus: and STUART Says, in bis Antquities of Athens, « Near this convent (the convent of Hagios Assomatos) is the place called at present Kepoi, or the Gardens; and Ampelos K pos, or the Vineyard Garden; these were probably the gardens which Pausanias visited.-Chap. ii, vol. 1. This method of polishing pearls, by leaving them awhile to be played with by doves, is mentioned by the fanciful CARDANES, de Rerum Varietat. lib. vii, cap. 34. "T was one of those delicious nights To make the coldest learn to love! And now the fairy pathway seem'd To lead us through enchanted ground, Where all that bard has ever dream'd Of love or luxury bloom'd around! Soft lamps, that hung like burning flowers, Through which the soul is doom'd to roam When it has left this world behind, And gone to seck its heavenly home! And, Nea, thou didst look and move, Like any blooming soul of bliss, That wanders to its home above Through mild and shadowy light like this! But now, methought, we stole along Through halls of more voluptuous glory Than ever lived in Teian song, Or wanton'd in Milesian story! a And nymphs were there, whose very eyes Seem'd almost to exhale in sighs; Whose every little ringlet thrill'd, As if with soul and passion fill'd! Some flew, with amber cups, around, Shedding the flowery wines of Crete, 3 And, as they pass'd with youthful hound, The onyx shone beneath their feet! 4 While others, waving arms of snow Entwined by snakes of burnish'd gold, 5 In Hercynio Germania salta inusitata genera alitum accepimus, quarum plumæ, ignium modo, colluceant noctibus. -Plin. lib. x, cap. 47. The Milesiacs, or Milesian fables, had their origin in Miletus, a luxurious town of Ionia. Aristides was the most celebrated author of these licentious fictions. See PLUTARCH (in Crasso), who calls them ακολας α βιβλια. Some of the Cretan wines, which Athenæus calls ovos avoa μlzs, from their fragrancy resembling that of the finest flowers. -BARRY on Wines, ebap. vii. It appears that, in very splendid mansions, the floor or pavement was frequently of onyx. Thus MARTIAL: Calcatusque tuo sub pede lucet onyx.-Epig. 50, lib. xii. 5 Bracelets of this shape were a favourite ornament among the Women of antiquity. Οι επικαρπιοι οφεις και αί χρυσαι And showing limbs, as loth to show, Where roses lay, in languor breathing, And the young bee-grape, round them wreathing," Oh, Nea! why did morning break The spell that so divinely bound me? Why did I wake? how could I wake, With thee my own and Heaven around me! Well-peace to thy heart, though another's it be, If I were yonder wave, my dear, And thou the isle it clasps around, I would not let a foot come near My land of bliss, my fairy ground' If I were yonder couch of gold, The sacred gem my arms embraced! πεδαι Θαιδος και Αρισαγόρας και Λαίδος φάρμακα. PHILSTR. epist. xl. LUCIAN too tells of the 6pxytotal d'oxxoVTES. See his Amores, where be describes the dressing-room of a Grecian lady, and we find the silver vase, the rouge, the tooth-powder, and all the mystic order of a modern toilet. · Ταραντινίδιον, διαφανες ενδυμα, ωνομασμένον από ans Tapauttywy xproses xxx tрupns.-Pollux. Apiana, mentioned by PLANY, lib. xiv, and now called the Muscatell (a muscarum telis), says PANCIBOLLUS, book 1, sect.1, chap. 17. The inhabitants pronounce the name as if it were written Bermooda. See the commentators on the words a still-vex'd Bermoothes, in the Tempest.-I wonder it did not occur to some of those allreading gentlemen that, possibly, the discoverer of this island of hors and devils might have been no less a personage than the great John Bermudez, who, about the same period (the beginning of the sixteenth century), was sent Patriarch of the Latin Church to Ethiopia, and bas left us most wouderful stories of the Amazons and the Griffins which he encountered. - Travels of the Jesuits, vol. i. I am afraid, however, it would take the Patriarch rather too much out of his way. 4 JOHNSON does not think that Waller was ever at Bermuda; but the Account of the European Sculements in America affirms it confidently. (Vol. ii.) I mention this work, however, less for its authority, than for the pleasure I feel in quoting an unacknowledged production of the great Edmund Burke, ON SEEING AN INFANT IN NEA'S ARMS. THE first ambrosial child of bliss That Psyche to her bosom press'd, Her dark hair fell, in mazes bright, Referant tamen quidam in interiore India avem esse, nomine Semendam, etc. CARDAN, 10 de Subtilitat. CESAR SCALIGER seems to think Semenda but another name for the Phoenix. Exercitat. 233. Εν ταύθα δε καθωρμισται ἡμῖν· και ό, τι μεν ονομα τῇ νήσῳ ουκ οιδα χρυση δ' αν προς γε εμου ονομα ζοιτο. PHILOSTRAT. Icon. 17, lib. 2. I STOLE along the flowery bank, 'T was noon; and every orange bud Hung languid o'er the crystal flood, The sea-side or mangrove grape, a native of the West Indies. |