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While I, as oft, in witching thought shall rove
To thee, to friendship, and that land I love,
Where, like the air that fans her fields of green,
Her freedom spreads, unfever'd and serene;
Where sovereign man can condescend to see
The throne and laws more sovereign still than he!

THE SNAKE.
1801.

My love and I, the other day,
Within a myrtle arbour lay,
When near us from a rosy bed,
A little Snake put forth its head.

"See," said the maid, with laughing eyes—
"Yonder the fatal emblem lies!
Who could expect such hidden harm
Beneath the rose's velvet charm?

Never did mortal thought occur

In more unlucky hour than this;
For oh! I just was leading her
To talk of love and think of bliss.

I rose to kill the snake, but she
In pity pray'd, it might not be.

"No," said the girl-and many a spark
Flash'd from her eyelid, as she said it-
"Under the rose, or in the dark,

One might, perhaps, have cause to dread it; But when its wicked eyes appear,

And when we know for what they wink so, One must be very simple, dear,

To let it sting one-don't you think so?"

Nor long did the soul of the stranger remain

Unbless'd by the smile he had languish'd to meet : Though scarce did he hope it would soothe him again,

Till the threshold of home had been kiss'd by his
feet!

But the lays of his boy-hood had stol'n to their ear,
And they lov'd what they knew of so humble a

name,

And they told him, with flattery welcome and dear, That they found in his heart something sweeter than fame!

Nor did woman-oh, woman! whose form and whose
soul

Are the spell and the light of each path we pursue!
Whether sunn'd in the tropics or chill'd at the pole,
If woman be there, there is happiness too!
Nor did she her enamouring magic deny,

That magic his heart had relinquish'd so long,
Like eyes he had loved was her eloquent eye,
Like them did it soften and weep at his song.

Oh! bless'd be the tear, and in memory oft
May its sparkle be shed o'er his wandering dream!
Oh! blest be that eye, and may passion as soft,
As free from a pang, ever mellow its beam!

The stranger is gone-but he will not forget,

When at home he shall talk of the tcil he has

known,

To tell, with a sigh, what endearments he met.
As he stray'd by the wave of the Schuylkill alone!

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ALONE by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd,
And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh!
Oh, nature! though blessed and bright are thy rays,
O'er the brow of creation enchantingly thrown,
Yet faint are they all to the lustre that plays

In a smile from the heart that is dearly our own!

THE FALL OF HEBE.

A DITHYRAMBIC ODE.'
"Twas on a day

When the immortals at their banquet lay;
The bowl

Sparkled with starry dew,

The weeping of those myriad urns of light,
Within whose orbs, the almighty Power,
At Nature's dawning hour,

1 Though I call this a Dithyrambic Ode, I cannot presume to say that it possesses, in any degree, the characteristics of that species of poetry. The nature of the ancient Dithyrambie is very imperfectly known. According to M. Burette, a licentious irregularity of metre, an extravagant research of thought and expression, and a rude embarrassed construction, are among its most distinguishing features. He adds, "Ces caractères des dityrambes se font sentir à ceux qui lisent attentivement les odes de Pindare." Memoires de l'Acad. vol. x. p. 306. And the same opinion may be collected from Schmidt's dissertation upon the subject. But I think if the Dithyrambics of Pindar were in our possession, we should find, that, however wild and fanciful, guishes the present demagogues of the United States, and they were by no means the tasteless jargon they are repre has become indeed too generally the characteristic of their calls "un beau désordre." Chiabrera, who has been styled sented, and that even their irregularity was what Boileau countrymen. But there is another cause of the corruption the Pindar of Italy, and from whom all its poetry upon the of private morals, which, encouraged as it is by the govern Greek model was called Chiabreresco (as Crescimbeni inment, and identified with the interests of the community, forms us, Lib. i. cap. 12.) has given amongst his Vendem seems to threaten the decay of all honest principle in Ame-mie, a Dithyrambic, "all' uso de' Greci:" it is full of those rica. I allude to those fraudulent violations of neutrality compound epithets which, we are told, were a chief charac to which they are indebted for the most lucrative part of ter of the style (ouvroue de kegses amoloov., SUID A.Supaa. their commerce, and by which they have so long infringed 8.88) such as and counteracted the maritime rights and advantages of this country. This unwarrantable trade is necessarily abetted by such a system of collusion, imposture, and perjury, s cannot fail to spread rapid contamination around it.

R

Briglindorato Pegaso
Nubicalpestator.

But I cannot suppose that Pindar, even amidst all the li

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The Olympian cup

Burn'd in the hands

Of dimpled Hebe, as she wing'd her feet

Up

The empyreal mount,

To drain the soul-drops at their stellar fount;'
And still,

As the resplendent rill

Flamed o'er the goblet with a mantling heat,
Her graceful care

Would cool its heavenly fire

In gelid waves of snowy-feather'd air,
Such as the children of the pole respire,

In those enchanted lands2

Where life is all a spring and north winds never blow!
But oh!

Sweet Hebe, what a tear

And what a blush were thine,
When, as the breath of every Grace
Wafted thy fleet career

Along the studded sphere,

With a rich cup for Jove himself to drink,
Some star, that glitter'd in the way,

Raising its amorous head

To kiss so exquisite a tread,
Check'd thy impatient pace!

And all Heaven's host of eyes
Saw those luxuriant beauties sink

In lapse of loveliness, along the azure skies!'
Upon whose starry plain they lay,
Like a young blossom on our meads of gold,
Shed from a vernal thorn

Amid the liquid sparkles of the morn!
Or, as in temples of the Paphian shade,
The myrtled votaries of the queen behold
An image of their rosy idol, laid
Upon a diamond shrine!

The wanton wind,
Which had pursued the flying fair,
And sweetly twin'd

Its spirit with the breathing rings
Of her ambrosial hair,

1 Heraclitus (Physicus) held the soul to be a spark of the stellar essence. "Scintilla stellaris essentia."-Macrobius, in Somn. Scip. Lib. i. cap. 14.

2 The country of the Hyperboreans; they were supposed to be placed so far north, that the north wind could not af fect them; they lived longer than any other mortals; passed their whole time in music and dancing, etc. etc. But the

cense of dithyrambics, would ever have descended to ballad-most extravagant fiction related of them is that to which the language like the following:

Bella Filli, e bella Clori

Non piu dar pregio a tue bellezze e taci,
Che se Bacco fa vezzi alle mie labbra
Fo le fiche a' vostri baci.

esser vorrei Coppier,

E se troppo desiro

Deh fossi io Bottiglier.

Rime del Chiabrera, part ii. p. 352.

two lines preceding allude. It was imagined, that instead of our vulgar atmosphere, the Hyperboreans breathed nothing but feathers! According to Herodotus and Pliny, this idea was suggested by the quantity of snow which was observed to fall in those regions; thus the former: Ta wr πτερα εικάζοντας την χίονα τους Σκύθας τι και τους πε proixous Sonew sys.-Herodot. lib. iv. cap. 31. Ovid tells the fable otherwise. See Metamorph. lib. xv.

Mr. O'Halloran, and some other Irish Antiquarians, have been at great expense of learning to prove that the strange country, where they took snow for feathers, was Ireland, and that the famous Abaris was an Irish Druid. Mr. Rowland, however, will have it that Abaris was a Welshman, and that his name is only a corruption of Ap Rees!

1 This is a Platonic fancy; the philosopher supposes, in his Timæus, that, when the Deity had formed the soul of the world, he proceeded to the composition of other souls; in which process, says Plato, he made use of the same cup, though the ingredients he mingled were not quite so pure as 3 I believe it is Servius who mentions this unlucky trip for the former; and having refined the mixture with a little which Hebe made in her occupation of cup-bearer; and of his own essence, he distributed it amongst the stars which Hoffman tells it after him; "Cum Hebe pocula Jovi admiserved as reservoirs of the fluid. TXUT' x Xnistrans, perque lubricum minus cauté incedens, cecidisset επι τον πρότερον κρατήρα εν ω την του παντος ψυχην κι

ραννος επισχε, κ. τ. λ.

revolutisque vestibus"in short, she fell in a very awkward manner, and though (as the Encyclopédistes think) it would 2 We learn from Theophrastus, that the roses of Cyrene have amused Jove at any other time, yet, as he happened were particularly fragrant. EvTATA TO SE TO V Ku-to he out of temper on that day, the poor girl was dismissed from her employment.

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Fell glowing through the spheres
While all around new tints of bliss,
New perfumes of delight,
Enrich'd its radiant flow!

Now, with a humid kiss,

It thrill'd along the beamy wire
Of Heaven's illumin❜d lyre,'
Stealing the soul of music in its flight!
And now, amid the breezes bland,

That whisper from the planets as they roll,
The bright libation, softly fann'd

By all their sighs, meandering stole!
They who, from Atlas' height,

Beheld the hill of flame

Descending through the waste of night,

Thought 'twas a planet, whose stupendous frame Had kindled, as it rapidly revolv'd

Around its fervid axle, and dissolv'd

Into a flood so bright!

The child of day,

Within his twilight bower,

Lay sweetly sleeping

On the flush'd bosom of a lotos-flower;"

1 The arcane symbols of this ceremony were deposited in the cista, where they lay religiously concealed from the eyes of the profane. They were generally carried in the proces sion by an ass; and hence the proverb, which one may so often apply in the world, "asinus portat mysteria." See the Divine Legation, Book ii. sect. 4.

2 In the Geoponica, Lib. ii. cap. 17, there is a fable some what like this descent of the nectar to earth. Ev oupave των θεών ευωχούμενων, και του νεκταρος πολλού παρακειμι του, ανασκίρτησαν χορεία τον Έρωτα και συσσεισαι T00 πτέρω του κρατήρος την βασιν, και περιτρέψαι μεν αυτόν TO SE VERTAP BIS THY YAY EXXUJEV, X. T. λ. See Auctor. de Re Rust, edit. Contab. 1704.

3 The constellation Lyra. The astrologers attribute great virtues to this sign in ascendenti, which are enumerated by Pontano, in his Urania:

-Ecce novem cum pectine chordas
Emodulans, mulcet que novo vaga sidera cantu,
Quo capta nascentum animæ concordia ducunt
Pectora, etc.

4 The Egyptians represented the dawn of day by a young boy seated upon a lotos. E AIGUITYS Impaxos apxy ανατολής παιδςον νεογιον γράφοντας επί λωτω καθεζόμενον.

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Plutarch. p T μn xрav oμμETP. See also his treatise sid. et Osir. Observing that the lotos showed its head above water at sun-rise, and sank again at his setting, they conceived the idea of consecrating it to Osiris, or the sun. This symbol of a youth sitting upon a lotos, is very frequent on the Abraxases, or Basilidian stones. See Mont faucon, Tom. ii. planche 158, and the Supplément. etc. Tom. ii. lib. vii. chap. 5.

1 The ancients esteemed those flowers and trees tho sweetest upon which the rainbow had appeared to rest; and the wood they chiefly burned in sacrifices, was that which the smile of Iris had consecrated.-Plutarch Sympos. Lib iv. cap. 2, where (as Vossius remarks) xxis, instead of xxx, is undoubtedly the genuine reading. See Vossius, for some curious particularities of the rainbow, De Origin. et Progress, Idololat. Lib. iii. cap. 13.

But still the notes on LAMIA hung

On whom but LAMIA could they hang! That kiss, for which, if worlds were mine, A world for every kiss I'd give her; Those floating eyes, that floating shine Like diamonds in an eastern river!

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
Were sweet as if 'twas LAMIA's hair
That lay upon my late for chords,

And LAMIA's lip that warbled there!
But when, alas! I turn'd the theme,
And when of vows and oaths I spoke,
Of truth, and hope's beguiling dream-
The chord beneath my finger broke!
False harp! false woman!-such, oh! such
Are lutes too frail and maids too willing;
Every hand's licentious touch

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 breakOh Love! oh 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 refin'd?

Hast thou not every blameless grace,

That man should love, or Heaven can trace?
And oh! art thou a shrine for Sin
To hold her hateful worship in?

No, no, be happy-dry that tear

Though some thy heart hath harbour'd near
May now repay its love with blame!
Though man, who ought to shield thy fame,
Ungenerous man, be first to wound thee!
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 congeal'd around;
Floating in frost, it mock'd the chill,
Was pure, was soft, was brilliant still.

HYMN OF A VIRGIN OF DELPHI,

AT THE TOMB OF HER MOTHER.

OH! lost, for ever lost!-no more
Shall Vesper light our dewy way
Along the rocks of Crissa's shore,
To hymn the fading fires of day!

No more to Tempé's distant vale

In holy musings shall we roam,
Through summer's glow, and winter's gale,
To bear the mystic chaplets home!!
'Twas then my soul's expanding zeal,

By nature warm'd and led by thee,
In every breeze was taught to feel
The breathings of a deity!
Guide of my heart! to memory true,

Thy looks, thy words, are still my ows
I see thee raising from the dew,

Some laurel, by the wind o'erthrown,
And hear thee say, "This humble bough
Was planted for a doom divine,
And, though it weep in languor now,

Shall flourish on the Delphic shrine!
Thus, in the vale of earthly sense,

Though sunk awhile the spirit lies,
A viewless hand shall cull it thence,
To bloom immortal in the skies!"

Thy words had such a melting flow,
And spoke of truth so sweetly well,
They dropp'd like heaven's serenest snow,
And all was brightness where they fell!
Fond soother of my infant tear!

Fond sharer of my infant joy!

Is not thy shade still lingering here?
Am I not still thy soul's employ?
And oh as oft, at close of day

When, meeting on the sacred mount,
Our nymphs awak'd the choral lay,

And danc'd around Cassotis' fount; As then, 'twas all thy wish and care, That mine should be the simplest mien, My lyre and voice the sweetest there, My foot the lightest o'er the green; So still, each little grace to mould, Around my form thine eyes are shed, Arranging every snowy fold,

And guiding every mazy tread! And, when I lead the hymning choir, Thy spirit still, unseen and free, Hovers between my lip and lyre,

And weds them into harmony!

Flow, Plistus, flow! thy murmuring wave
Shall never drop its silvery tear
Upon so pure, so blest a grave,
To memory so divinely dear!

RINGS AND SEALS.

Ώσπερ σφραγιδες τα φιλήματα,
Achilles Tatius, Lib. i.

"Go!" said the angry weeping maid, "The charm is broken!-once betray'd,

a rarity as this that I saw at Vendôme in France, which they there pretend is a tear that our Saviour shed over Lazarus, and was gathered up by an angel, who put it in a little 1 This alludes to a curious gem, upon which Claudian crystal vial and made a present of it to Mary Magdalene." has left us some pointless epigrams. It was a drop of pure-Addison's Remarks on several Parts of Italy. water inclosed within a piece of crystal. See Claudian. 1 The laurel, for the common uses of the temple, for Epigram. de Chrystallo cui aqua inerat. Addison men-adorning the altars and sweeping the pavement, was sup tions a curiosity of this kind at Milan. He says, "It is such plied by a tree near the fountain of Castalia. But upon all

Oh! never can my heart rely
On word or look, on oath or sigh.
Take back the gifts, so sweetly given,
With promis'd faith and vows to Heaven;
That little ring, which, night and morn,
With wedded truth my hand hath worn;
That seal which oft, in moment blest,
Thou hast upon my lip imprest,
And sworn its dewy spring should be
A fountain seal'd' for only thee!
Take, take them back, the gift and vow,
All sullied, lost, and hateful, now!"

I took the ring-the seal I took,
While oh! her every tear and look
Were such as angels look and shed,
When man is by the world misled!
Gently I whisper'd, "FANNY, dear!
Not half thy lovers gifts are here:
Say, where are all the seals he gave
To every ringlet's jetty wave,
And where is every one he printed
Upon that lip, so ruby-tinted—
Seals of the purest gem of bliss,
Oh! richer, softer, far than this!

"And then the ring-my love! recall
How many rings delicious all,

His arms around that neck hath twisted,
Twining warmer far than this did!
Where are they all, so sweet, so many?
Oh! dearest, give back all, if any!"

While thus I murmur'd, trembling too
Lest all the nymph had vow'd was true,
I saw a smile relenting rise
'Mid the moist azure of her eyes,
Like day-light o'er a sea of blue,
While yet the air is dim with dew!
She let her cheek repose on mine,
She let my arms around her twine-
Oh! who can tell the bliss one feels
In thus exchanging rings and seals!

TO MISS SUSAN B-CKF-D.
HER SINGING.

1 MORE than once have heard, at night,
A song, like those thy lips have given,
And it was sung by shapes of light,
Who seem'd, 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;

I knew not then that Heaven had sent
A voice, a form like thine on earth!
And yet, in all that flowery maze
Through which my life has lov'd to tread,
When I have heard the sweetest lays

From lips of dearest lustre shed;

When I have felt the warbled word
From Beauty's mouth of perfume sighing,
Sweet as music's hallow'd bird

Upon a rose's bosom lying!

Though form and song at once combin'd
Their loveliest bloom and softest thrill,
My heart hath sigh'd, my heart hath pin'd
For something softer, lovelier still!
Oh! I have found it all, at last,

In thee, thou sweetest, living lyre,
Through which the soul hath ever pass'd
Its harmonizing breath of fire!

All that my best and wildest dream,

In Fancy's hour, could hear or see Of Music's sigh or Beauty's beam Are realiz'd, at once, in thee!

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Through shades that frown'd, and flowers that smil'd,

Flying by every green recess

That woo'd him to its calm caress,

Yet, sometimes turning with the wind,
As if to leave one look behind!

mportant 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 1 There is a dreary and savage character in the country brings the Tempic laurel to Delphi is always attended by a player on the flute." Axx XX TO XXтяROMICOVT immediately above these Falls, which is much more in harmony with the wildness of such a scene, than the cultivated την Τιμπικην δάφνην εις Δελφος παρομαρτεί αυλητής. 1 "There are gardens, supposed to be those of King Solo-lands in the neighbourhood of Niagara. See the drawing mon, 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.

of them in Mr. Weld's book. According to him, the perpendicular height of the Cohos Falls 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 per haps the most interesting beauty which these wonderful cataracts exhibit.

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