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Yet, the day may arrive, when the mountains, once more,

Shall rise to my sight, in their mantles of snow:
But, while these soar above me, unchanged as before,

Will Mary be there to receive me? ah no!
Adieu! then, ye hills, where my childhood was bred,

Thou sweet flowing Dee, to thy waters adieu!
No home in the forest shall shelter my head,

Ah! Mary, what home could be mine, but with you?

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On! yes, I will own we were dear to each other,

The friendships of childhood, tho’ fleeting, are true; The love which you felt, was the love of a brother,

Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you.

But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion,

The attachment of years, in a moment, expires ;
Like Love too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion,

But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.

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Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together,

And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow; In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!

But winter's rude tempests are gathering now.

No more with affection shall memory blending

The wonted delights of our childhood retrace; When pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbending, And what would be justice appears a disgrace.

5. However, dear SR , for I still must esteem you,

The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid, The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.

6. I will not complain, and tho' chill'd is affection,

With me no corroding resentment shall live; My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection, That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.

. 7. You knew that my soul, that my heart, my existence,

If danger demanded, were wholly your own; You knew me unalter’d by years or by distance, Devoted to love and to friendship alone.

8. You knew,-but away with the vain retrospection, · The bond of affection no longer endures ; Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection,

And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours.

For the present, we part, I will hope not for ever,

For time and regret will restore you at last;
To forget our dissention we both should endeavour, .

I ask no atouement, but days like the past.

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1. This faint resemblance of thy charms,

Though strong as mortal art could give, My constant heart of fear disarms,

Revives my hopes, and bids me live.

2. Here I can trace the locks of gold,

Which round thy snowy forehead wave; The cheeks, which sprung from Beauty's mould, The lips, which made me Beauty's slave.

3. Here I can trace---ah no! that eye

Whose azure floats in liquid fire, Must all the painter's art defy,

And bid him from the task retire.


Here I behold its beauteous hue,

But where's the beam so sweetly straying,
Which gave a lustre to its blue,
Like Luna o’er the Ocean playing ?

5. .

Sweet copy! far more dear to me,

Lifeless, unfeeling as thou art, Than all the living forms could be,

Save her, who plac'd thee next my heart.

She plac'd it, sad, with needless fear,

Lest time might shake my wavering soul,
Unconscious, that her image, there,

Held every sense in fast controul.

Thro' hours, thro' years, thro' time, 'twill cheer;

My hope, in gloomy moments, raise ;
In life's last conflict 'twill appear,

And meet my fond expiring gaze.


In law an infant(1), and in years a boy,
In mind a slave to every vicious joy,
From every sense of shame and virtue wean’d,
In lies an adept, in deceit a fiend;
Vers’d in hypocrisy while yet a child,
Fickle as wind, of inclinations wild;
Woman his dupe, his heedless friend a tool,
Old in the world, tho' scarcely broke from school;
Damælas ran through all the maze of sin,
And found the goal, when others just begin;
Ev'n still conflicting passions shake his soul,
And bid him drain the dregs of pleasure's bowl ;
But, pall'd with vice, he breaks his former chain,
And, wbat was once his bliss, appears his bane.

(1) In Law, every person is an infant, who has not attained the age of twenty-one.


MARION ! Why that pensive brow?
What disgust to life hast thou?'
Change that discontented air;
Frowns become not one so fair. ..
'Tis not love disturbs thy rest, i
Ic-nig.2. B!ronger to thy breast;
He. ir nim nlipg smiles,' appears,
Or mourns in sweetly timid tears;
Or bends the languid eyelid down,
But shuns the cold forbidding frown. :
Then resume iby former fire,
Some will love, and all admire;
While that icy aspect chills us,
Nought but cool indiff'rence thrills us. .
Would'st thou wand'ring hearts beguilo,
Smile, at least, or seem to smile;
Eyes, like thine, were never meant
To hide their orbs in dark restraint;
Spite of all, thou fain would'st say,
Still in truant beams they play. ..
Thy lips, but here my modest Muse.
Her impulse chaste must needs refuse.
She blushes, curtsies, frowns-in short she
Dreads lest the subject should transport me;
And flying off, in search of reason,
Brings prudence back in proper season.
All I shall, therefore, say, (whate'er
I think, is neither here nor there,)
Is that such lips, of looks endearing,
Were form’d for better things than sneering;

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