LOVE'S SEASONS.

A SONG.

OST thou idly ask to hear

DOST thou idly ask tons

Nymphs relent, when lovers near
Press the tenderest reasons?
Ah, they give their faith too oft
To the careless wooer;

Maidens' hearts are always soft:

Would that men's were truer !

Woo the fair one when around

Early birds are singing;

When, o'er all the fragrant ground,

Early herbs are springing :

When the brookside, bank, and grove,

All with blossoms laden,

Shine with beauty, breathe of love,-
Woo the timid maiden.

VOL. I.-7

Woo her when, with rosy blush,
Summer eve is sinking;

When, on rills that softly gush,
Stars are softly winking;

When through boughs that knit the bower

Moonlight gleams are stealing;
Woo her, till the gentle hour
Wakes a gentler feeling.

Woo her when autumnal dyes
Tinge the woody mountain;
When the dropping foliage lies
In the weedy fountain;

Let the scene, that tells how fast
Youth is passing over,

Warn her, ere her bloom is past,

To secure her lover.

Woo her when the north winds call
At the lattice nightly;
When, within the cheerful hall,

Blaze the fagots brightly;
While the wintry tempest round

Sweeps the landscape hoary,
Sweeter in her ear shall sound

Love's delightful story.

Great Barrington, 1824.

"United States Literary Gazette," August 15, 1824.

"I

BROKE THE SPELL THAT HELD ME

I

LONG."

BROKE the spell that held me long,

The dear, dear witchery of song.

I said, the poet's idle lore

Shall waste my prime of years no more,
For Poetry, though heavenly born,
Consorts with poverty and scorn.

I broke the spell-nor deemed its power
Could fetter me another hour.
Ah, thoughtless! how could I forget
Its causes were around me yet?
For wheresoe'er I looked, the while,
Was Nature's everlasting smile.

Still came and lingered on my sight

Of flowers and streams the bloom and light,
And glory of the stars and sun;-

And these and poetry are one.

They, ere the world had held me long,

Recalled me to the love of song.

Great Barrington, 1824.

"Atlantic Souvenir," 1825.

HYMN OF THE WALDENSES.

HEAR, Father, hear thy faint afflicted flock

Cry to thee, from the desert and the rock ;
While those, who seek to slay thy children, hold
Blasphemous worship under roofs of gold;

And the broad goodly lands, with pleasant airs
That nurse the grape and wave the grain, are theirs.

Yet better were this mountain wilderness,

And this wild life of danger and distress-
Watchings by night and perilous flight by day,
And meetings in the depths of earth to pray—
Better, far better, than to kneel with them,
And pay the impious rite thy laws condemn.

Thou, Lord, dost hold the thunder; the firm land

Tosses in billows when it feels thy hand;
Thou dashest nation against nation, then

Stillest the angry world to peace again.

Oh, touch their stony hearts who hunt thy sonsThe murderers of our wives and little ones.

ΙΟΙ

Yet, mighty God, yet shall thy frown look forth
Unveiled, and terribly shall shake the earth.
Then the foul power of priestly sin and all
Its long-upheld idolatries shall fall.

Thou shalt raise up the trampled and oppressed,
And thy delivered saints shall dwell in rest.

Great Barrington, 1824.

"United States Literary Gazette," September