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And she, in simple beauty drest,
Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Ye lofty banks that Evan bound,
Sweet banks! ye bloom by MARY's side; Blest stream! she views thee haste to Clyde.
Can all the wealth of India's coast
Let echoes to each other tell,
TO STREPHON'S. ear, and all is well.
But gently breathe the fatal truth,
And soften every harsher sound,
Now, fountains, echoes, all be dumb;
ROM place to place, forlorn, I go,
a silent shade
1 downcast eyes, a
Forbidden to declare my woe;
To speak, till spoken to, afraid. *
This is a very ingenious allusion to the popular notion
that ghosts are not permitted to speak till first addressed by
My inward pangs, my secret grief,
Why speaks not he who may ? my
I HAVE a silent sorrow here,
It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear,
This cherisht woe, this loved despair,
My lot for ever be,
So, my soul's lord! the pangs I bear
And when pale characters of death
I shall not raise my eyes to heaven,
Nor mercy ask for me;
My soul despairs to be forgiven,
R. B. SHERIDAN.
THERE is one dark and sullen hour
Which fate decrees our lives should know, Else we should slight th' Almighty power, Wrapt in the joys we find below:
'Tis past, dear CYNTHIA, now let frowns begone; A long, long penance I have done For crimes, alas! to me unknown.
In each soft hour of silent night.
Slumber in joys, but wake in tears:
Ah! faithless charming saint, what will you do?
Loved less for being true.
* From the play of The Stranger, in the character of an unfaithful but penitent wife.
CAN loving father ever prove
From loving daughter purer love?
Or blanch his cheek, or dim his eye,
Sweet soothing task! I daily trace
Its rising flush delighted see,
And catch the sigh that breathes for me.
And cheat affection of its due?
'Tis mine to love a dearer name.