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Cease, cease, thou cruel ocean,
And let my lover rest :
To that within my breast ?
The merchant, robb'd of pleasure,
Sees tempests in despair ;
To losing of my dear?
Where gold and diamonds grow, You'd find a richer maiden,
But none that loves you so.
How can they say that nature
Has nothing made in vain; Why then beneath the water
Should hideous rocks remain ? No eyes
the rocks discover That Jurk beneath the deep, To wreck the wandering lover,
And leave the maid to weep.
All melancholy lying,
Thus wail'd she for her dear; Repay'd each blast with sighing,
Each billow with a tear; When o'er the white wave stooping,
His floating corpse she spy'd ; Then, like a lily drooping,
She bow'd her head and dy'd.
THE COURT OF DEATH.
DEATH, on a solemn night of state,
With hollow tone,
Fever, with burning heat possest, Advanc'd, and for the wand addrest.
“ I to the weekly bills appeal, Let those express my fervent zeal ; On every slight occasion near, With violence I persevere.'
Next Gout appears with limping pace,
A haggard spectre from the crew
Stone urg'd his over-growing force; And, next, Consumption's meagre corse, With feeble voice that scarce was heard, Broke with short coughs, his suit preferr'd : “Let none object my lingering way, I gain, like Fabius, by delay; Fatigue and weaken every foe By long attack, secure, though slow.”
Plague represents his rapid power, Who thinn'd a nation in an hour.
All spoke their claim, and hop'd the wand.
“ Merit was ever modest known.
An excellent man and an eminent actor.
SWEET are the charms of her I love,
More fragrant than the damask rose, Soft as the down of turtle dove,
Gentle as air when Zephyr blows, Refreshing as descending rains To sun-burnt climes, and thirsty plains.
True as the needle to the pole,
Or as the dial to the sun; Constant as gliding waters roll,
Whose swelling tides obey the moon; From every
other charmer free, My life and love shall follow thee.
The lamb the flowery thyme devours,
pursues; Sweet Philomel, in shady bowers
Of verdant spring her note renews ; All follow what they most admire, As I pursue my soul's desire,
Nature must change her beauteous face,
And vary as the seasons rise ;
Summer th' approach of autumn flies : No change on love the seasons bring, Love only knows perpetual spring.
Devouring time, with stealing pace,
Makes lofty oaks and cedars bow; And marble tow'rs, and gates of brass,
In his rude march he levels low : But time, destroying far and wide, Love from the soul can ne'er divide.
Death only, with his cruel dart,
The gentle godhead can remove; And drive him from the bleeding heart
To mingle with the bless'd above, Where, known to all his kindred train, He finds a lasting rest from pain.
Love, and his sister fair, the soul,
Twin-born, from heav'n together came: Love will the universe control,
When dying seasons lose their name; Divine abodes shall own his pow'r, When time and death shall be no more.