Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print. The Fudges in England. Letter iit. Fly not yet; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower Begins to bloom for sons of night Oh stay! oh stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain To break its links so soon. When did morning ever break, And find such beaming eyes awake? Fly not yet. Ibid. Ibid And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore. Rich and rare were the Gems she wore. There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet Oh, weep for the hour When to Eveleen's bower The lord of the valley with false vows came. Eveleen's Bower. Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side Come, send round the Wine. No, the heart that has truly lov'd never forgets, Believe me, if all those endearing young Charms. The moon looks On many brooks, "The brook can see no moon but this."1 While gazing on the Moon's Light. And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, 'Tis sweet to think that where'er we rove Ill Omens We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we're far from the lips we love, We've but to make love to the lips we are near. 'Tis sweet to think. 'Tis believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee Was a siren of old who sung under the sea. 1 But there's nothing half so The Origin of the Harp. sweet in life Love's Young Dream. And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear. Ibid. The Young May Moon. This image was suggested by the following thought, which occurs somewhere in Sir William Jones's Works: "The moon looks upon many nightBowers; the night-flower sees but one moon." nimitation of Shenstone's inscription, "Heu! quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse." You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, Thus, when the lamp that lighted And looks around in fear and doubt. By cloudless starlight on he treads, I'd mourn the Hopes No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, The light that lies In woman's eyes. My only books Come o'er the Sea. The Time I've lost in wooing. Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me. I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, Ibid. Come, rest in this Boson. To live and die in scenes like this, With some we've left behind us. As slow our Ship. Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea. All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest. Remember Thee. All that's Bright must fade Those evening bells! those evening bells! Of youth and home, and that sweet time Oft in the stilly night, Those Evening Bells. Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The eyes that shone Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken. I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, And all but he departed. As half in shade and half in sun Oft in the Stilly Night. This world along its path advances, May that side the sun's upon Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances! Ibid. Peace be around Thee. If I speak to thee in friendship's name, The bird let loose in Eastern skies, How shall I woo! Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam; Ibid But high she shoots through air and light, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Oh that I had Wings This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, This World is all a fleeting Show. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Sound the loud Timbrel As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean As still to the star of its worship, though clouded, The Heart's Prayer. Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. Come, ye Oh call it by some better name, Disconsolate. Oh call it by some better Name When twilight dews are falling soft I watch the star whose beam so oft Has lighted me to thee, love. When Twilight Dews |