But, ah! 'twas fortune was severe,
And led my feelings wrong;
I could not help to love him dear,
Nor could conceal it long.

"Be blest, ye Seats of sweet repose,
Whose kind protecting shade,
The shield of virtue round me throws,
A yet untainted maid!

"But earth no cordial has in store,

My suff'rings to remove;

For though I ne'er can see him more;
I ne'er can cease to love."

The Swain no longer could forbear,
But rush'd into her cell :

Th' astonish'd maiden shriek'd with
fear,

As at her feet he fell.

"Forgive a guilty youth," he said,
"Whom passion led astray;
But now by thee, angelic maid,
Reclaim'd to virtue's way.

"Ah! little, little, can'st thou think,
What anguish rent my heart,
Since thou, escap'd from run's brink,
Didst from our vale depart.

"Let not thy righteous frown severe,
My treacherous conduct chide;
For, by the Sire of Love, I swear,
None else shall be my bride.

"Still, to redeem my crime, shall be
My future life's employ;
And truly blest in blessing thee,
We'll yield alternate joy !"

We have seen some other of his productions of much merit; but, in all the essential attributes of poetry, the best of them appears to us inferior to that which we have here selected.

WOMAN.

BY JAMES STUART.

WHEN half creation's works were done,
Just formed the stars, the glowing sun,

And softly blushing skies;

And wide across earth's dewy lawn
Gleamed the first glances of the dawn,
And flowers began to rise:

Clad in her robe of tender green,
Nature delighted viewed the scene,
Pleased with each novel form;
And from each sweetly-op'ning flower,
From hill and vale and shady bower,
She culled some lovely charm.

Soft o'er the lily's glowing white,
Tinged with the trembling ray of
light,

She shed the rose's flush;
Just as the first-born morning gale,
Light-breathing o'er the spicy vale,
Deepened its virgin blush."

She drew the diamond from the mine,
And lustre from the stars that shine
Amid the cloudless sky;
And purest pearls, obscurely spread,
In ocean's dark and gloomy bed,
Remote from mortal eye.

She took the balmy vi'let's blue,
The sweet carnation's mellow hue,
Rich with the tear of night;
Though the young beam of rising day
Had melted half that tear away,

The following beautiful stanzas on the formation of Nature's most In the first stream of light. beautiful production, breathe a spirit of poetry, which we have seldom And now in elegance arrayed, seen equalled. They are the effu- Her last, her fairest work she made, sion of a poet who is scarcely, if at Almost a seraph's frame : all, known in this country. He pos-To animate this form was given sessed real genius, of which the A gentle spirit sent from heaven, literary gem we now offer to our readers, is an unquestionable proof ; but he seems not to have been endowed with that steadiness and perseverance in the service of the Muses, which are necessary to make an impression and gain a name, as one of their favourites.

And WOMAN was her name.

Then or her softly-smiling face
She lavished every winning grace,

And every charm was there;
Upon her eye, the vi'let's blue,
Upon her cheek, the rose's hue,
The lily every where.

O! strong was the cement of patriot affection,
That these happy states in firm union allied;
Time only more closely shall draw the connexion,
Which traitors in vain shall attempt to divide.
The federal bond, as we ever have found it,
Prolific of blessings, shall still be the same;
And heroes shall form a strong bulwark around it,
While their hearts glow with rapture at

Washington's name !

That heav'n-borrow'd standard, the symbol of union,
Each patriot citizen glories to view!

"Tis the badge that displays the illustrious communion
Of states, independent, united and true!

O! we'll never abandon the bright constellation,
That led us to victory, freedom and fame;

But a rampart we'll form round the laws of our nation,
While our hearts glow with rapture at

Washington's name!

The sire of his country, how dearly he lov'd us,
A long life of patriot exertion can tell!
Then, O! when he left us, it surely behov'd us,
To print on our hearts such a father's "farewell."
That divine Constitution he left as his blessing,
While virtue one spot in our bosoms can claim,
We'll defend, all our feuds and divisions suppressing,
At the heart-warming influence of

Washington's name!

POETRY.

TO MY FIRST LOVE.

BY DOCTOR M'HENRY.

O! thou, for whom my bosom swell'd,
When first it knew the thrill of love,
Whose mem'ry still shall dear be held,
While in this breast one pulse shall move;
Though fated now afar to rove,

From all that once my life could bless,
Exile and sorrow shall but prove
To thee my heart's devotedness.

O! Anna, think'st thou time or place,
Can ever change a love like mine?
Can from my mem'ry e'er efface

Charms there impress'd so deep as thine! No; I may suffer and repine,

While round my head life's tempests roll; To death itself I may resign,

But thou shalt triumph in my soul.

At twilight's tender hour of love,
That hour to my fond feelings dear,
By Inver's margin dost thou rove,

Where oft we pledged our vows sincere ?
And think'st thou of the grief severe,
That bids thy hapless lover groan,
Without one joy his soul to cheer,

Save when he thinks of thee alone?

FOR THE AMERICAN MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

ODE TO THE NEW YEAR.

Chaunt ye a lofty strain,

To the smiling new-born year,
Shout, for with smiles, again

I see his chariot here,
With icy diadem, and vest

Of purest hoar and snow-flake, drest.

Chaunt ye a joyous song,

To the long-wished welcome year,
We have watched for his white car long,
He cometh to announce good cheer,
And the festal cup, and the friendly token:-
For the old year's tiresome reign is broken.
Swell to a louder peal,

Let the harp-string gaily sound,
Though he rolls on a frozen wheel,

And a storm-cloud decks him round;
Yet the fireside calm, and the smiles of home,
And the feast of soul, in his rich train come.

His issuing forth, is rude,

With the music of the north,
But his path shall soon be strewed

With the young flowers peeping forth;
And the wint❜ry robe shall be torn away,
And vernal winds in his locks shall play.

The months, with varied tune,
Bring up the misty dance;
Soft May and laughing June,

With clasped hands advance;
And among their robes that loosely flow,
Zephyr and storm alternate blow.

Strange wonders, mystic year!
Thou art coming to disclose,
And my trembling heart doth fear
Lest thou bearest heavy woes.
For grisly death, among thy suite,
Comes gliding in with steady feet.

And the star-decked sky,

That curtains us around,

Shall not meet my closed eye,

When sunk beneath the ground;

But, the mourning yew, shall sadly wave
Above my rude unhonoured grave.

Princeton, N. J. December 13, 1823.

CYPRIAN.

FOR THE AMERICAN MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

Domestic Sketches.

No. I.

It was the noon of one of those cloudless days in the latter part of autumn, when, instead of the parching and sultry heat, which is the never-failing attendant of the early part of that season, a refreshing breeze springing up, rendered it scarce necessary to use any shield against the enlivening beams of the mid-day sun. Chesnut-street exhibited a gay and interesting sight. The eye was constantly regaled by successive bevies of belles, blooming in all the pride of youth and beauty, their fine complexions shaded by clustering ringlets of the most glossy curls, and lighted up by the fire of eyes as yet undimmed by a tear. The philanthropist felt his heart swell with pleasure as he beheld their cheerful and open countenances, bespeaking minds frank, sincere and untroubled by a care; while the youthful poet stood lost in admiration, and seemed to realize, in the fairy forms that passed before him, the fairest visions of his most enraptured moments.

Among the crowd that had sallied forth to enjoy the beauties of the season, was a trio of females, two of whom, at least, seemed determined, by the richness of their dress, to show to the best advantage, the charms with which nature had endowed them. A dress of the finest muslin, white as the falling snow, ornamented with flounces, lace, &c. &c. and surmounted by a spencer of pea-green silk, was the robe a promener of these two nymphs. Light hats, in planning which, Miss T-- had exerted all that felicity of invention and beauty of execution which have procured her so extensive and well-deserved a patronage among the fair of our city, sat on their flaxen tresses, like a butterfly on the lily. The reader will, perhaps, be anxious to know who these damsels were, and, also, who was the third lady, concerning whom we have as yet said nothing. We will endeavour to gratify this laudable curiosity. Miss Charlotte and Miss Caroline Drugget are the only daughters of Mr. Christopher Drugget, and of his lady, Mrs. Gertrude Drugget, the lady who, eclipsed by her fair daughters, is thus awkwardly introduced to our readers. Mr. and Mrs. D. had, during about thirty years of their married life, been engaged in the retail dry good business, by which means they had amassed a considerable fortune, which, as the young ladies had unanimously determined, could not be better spent than in "putting them in a way of getting well married," as they expressed themselves. Tired VOL. I. No. 1.

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