The nectared spray of Jove's perennial springs! ΤΟ THAT Wrinkle, when first I espied it, Thou art just in the twilight at present, I would sooner, my exquisite mother! Than bask in the noon of another! ANACREONTIC. "SHE never looked so kind before- The wine which she had lately tasted; I took the harp, and would have sung On whom but Lamia could they hang? That kiss, for which, if worlds were mine, That mould so fine, so pearly bright, Of which luxurious Heaven hath cast her, Through which her soul doth beam as white As flame through lamps of alabaster! Of these I sung, and notes and words And Lamia's lip that warbled there! But when, alas! I turned the theme, False harp! false woman !—such, oh! such Can learn to wake their wildest thrilling! And when that thrill is most awake, And when you think heaven's joys await you, The nymph will change, the chord will breakO Love! O Music! how I hate you! TO MRS. ON SOME CALUMNIES AGAINST HER CHARACTER. Is not thy mind a gentle mind? Is not thy heart a heart refined? Hast thou not every blameless grace That man should love or Heaven can trace? And oh! art thou a shrine for Sin No, no, be happy--dry that tear Though some thy heart hath harboured near Though man, who ought to shield thy fame, Though the whole world may freeze around thee! Oh! thou'lt be like that lucid tear Which bright within the crystal's sphere In liquid purity was found, Though all had grown congealed around; HYMN OF A VIRGIN OF DELPHI OH! lost, for ever lost !—no more To hymn the fading fires of day! In holy musings shall we roam, Through summer's glow and winter's gale, To bear the mystic chaplets home!* By nature warmed and led by thee, Thy looks, thy words are still my own- Some laurel, by the wind o'erthrown; Though sunk awhile the spirit lies, Thy words had such a melting flow, Fond sharer of my infant joy! Is not thy shade still lingering here? When, meeting on the sacred mount, And danced around Cassotis' fount; That mine should be the simplest mien, And guiding every mazy tread ! And weds them into harmony! Flow, Plistus, flow; thy murmuring wave To memory so divinely dear. The laurel, for the common uses of the temple, for adorning the altars and sweeping the pavement, was supplied by a tree near the fountain of Castalia; but upon all important occasions they sent to Tempe for their laurel. We find in Pausanias that this valley supplied the branches of which the temple was originally constructed; and Plutarch says, in his Dialogue on Music, "The youth who brings the Tempic laurel to Delphi is always attended by a player on the flute." RINGS AND SEALS. Ώσπερ σφραγιδες τα φιλήματα. Achilles Tatius, lib. ii. "Go!" said the angry, weeping maid, On word or look, on oath or sigh. His arms around that neck have twisted. Oh! who can tell the bliss one feels "There are gardens, supposed to be those of King Solomon, in the neighbourhood of Bethlehem. The friars show a fountain, which they say is the 'sealed fountain' to which the holy spouse in the Canticles is compared ; and they pretend a tradition that Solomon shut up these springs and put his signet upon the door, to keep them for his own drinking."-Maundrell's Travels. See also the notes to Mr. Good's Translation of the Song of Solomon. TO MISS SUSAN BECKFORD, ON HER SINGING. I MORE than once have heard, at night, Who seemed, like thee, to breathe of heaven! But this was all a dream of sleep, And I have said, when morning shone "Oh! why should fairy fancy keep These wonders for herself alone?" I knew not then that fate had lent Such tones to one of mortal birth; And yet, in all that flowery maze Through which my life has loved to tread, From lips of dearest lustre shed; When I have felt the warbled word From beauty's mouth of perfume sighing, Upon a rose's bosom lying; Though form and song at once combined Oh! I have found it all, at last, In thee, thou sweetest living lyre LINES WRITTEN AT THE COHOS, OR FALLS of the MOHAWK RIVER. Già era in loco ove s'udia 'l rimbombo Dell' acqua FROM rise of morn till set of sun I've seen the mighty Mohawk run, Dante. *There is a dreary and savage character in the country immediately about these Falls, which is much more in harmony with the wildness of such a scene than the cultivated lands in the neighbourhood of Niagara. See the drawing of them in Mr. Weld's book. According to him, the perpendicular height of the Cohos Fall is fifty feet; but the Marquis de Chastellux makes it seventy six. The fine rainbow, which is continually forming and dissolving as the spray rises into the light of the sun, is perhaps the most interesting beauty which these wonderful cataracts exhibit. |