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The hearty grasp that sends a pleasant sonnet 29
Into the brain ere one can think upon it;/30
The silence when some rhymes are coming out; 31
And when they're come, the very pleasant rout:gz
The message certain to be done to-morrow. 38
'Tis perhaps as well that it should be to borrows
Some precious book from out its snug retreat, 35
To cluster round it when we next shall meet. 36
Scarce can I scribble on: for lovely airs 37
Are fluttering round the room like doves in pairs ;
Many delights of that glad day recalling,
When first my senses caught their tender falling,

And with these airs come forms of elegance 41
Stooping their shoulders o'er a horse's prance, 42
Careless, and grand-fingers soft and round 3
Parting luxuriant curls ; and the swift bound
Of Bacchus from his chariot, when his eye
Made Ariadne's cheek look blushingly.
Thus I remember all the pleasant flow
Of words at opening a portfolio. wy

Things such as these are ever harbingers ?
To trains of peaceful images : the stirs 1150
Of a swan's neck unseen among the rushes : 51
A linnet starting all about the bushes : 52
A butterfly, with golden wings broad-parted, 53
Nestling a rose, convulsed as though it smarted 54
With over-pleasure—many, many more, 5.4
Might I indulge at large in all my store
Of luxuries : yet I must not forget
Sleep, quiet with his poppy coronet : 56
For what there may be worthy in these rhymes et
I partly owe to him: and thus, the chimes
Of friendly voices had just given place 6
To as sweet a silence, when I'gau retrace
The pleasant day, upon a couch at ease.
It was a poet's house who keeps the keys



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65 Of Pleasure's temple-round about were hung
66 The glorious features of the bards who sung
6? In other ages—cold and sacred busts

Smiled at each other. Happy he who trusts
69 To clear Futurity his darling fame!
1170 Then there were fauns and satyrs taking aim
7 At swelling apples with a frisky leap

And reaching fingers 'mid a luscious heap
Of vine-leaves. Then there rose to view a fane
Of liney marble, and thereto a train
Of nymphs approaching fairly o’er the sward
One, loveliest, holding her white hand toward
The dazzling sun-rise; two sisters sweet

Bending their graceful figures till they meet

1. Over the trippings of a little child: is And some are hearing, eagerly, the wild Thrilling liquidity of dewy piping.

See, in another picture, nymphs are wiping 82
Cherishingly Diana's timorous limbs; 73
A fold of lawny mantle dabbling swimsel
At the bath's edge, and keeps a gentle motion 85
With the subsiding crystal: as when ocean 86
Heaves calmly its broad swelling smoothness o'er ?

Its rocky marge, and balances once more
The patient weeds, that now unshent hy foam 59
Feel all about their undulating home. /190)
Sappho's meek head was there half smiling down 97
At nothing ; just as though the earnest frown 92
Of over-thinking had that moment gone q3
From off her brow, and left her all alone. +

Great Alfred's too, with anxious, pitying eyes,
As if he always listen’d to the sighs
Of the goaded world; and Kosciusko's, worn
By horrid suffrance-mightily forlorn. 7

Petrarch, outstepping from the shady green, 94

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Starts at the sight of Laura; nor can wean 1200
His eyes from her sweet face. Most happy they/:20
For over them was seen a free display 2
Of outspread wings, and from between them shone 3
The face of Poesy: from off her throne 4
She overlook'd things that I scarce could tell,
The very sense of where I was might well 6

Keep sleep aloof : but more than that there came
Thought after thought to nourish up the flame 8
Within my breast; so that the morning light 9
Surprised me even from a sleepless night; / Z10


I rose refresh'd, and glad, and gay, 11
Resolving to begin that very day 12
These lines; and howsoever they be done, 13
I leave them as a father does his son.



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HINK not of it, sweet one, 80 ;-

Give it not a tear ;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go

Any-any where.
Do not look so sad, sweet one,

Sad and fadingly ;
Shed one drop then it is gone-

Oh! 'twas born to die !
Still so pale ? then, dearest, weep;

Weep, I'll count the tears,
And each one shall be a bliss

For thee in after years.
Brighter has it left thine eyes

Than a sunny rill;
And thy whispering melodies

Aro tenderer still,

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Yet—as all things mourn awhile

At fleeting blisses ;
Let us too; but be our dirge

A dirge of kisses



NFELT, unheard, unseen,

I've left my little queen,
Her languid arms in silver slumber

Ah! through their nestling touch,

Who—who could tell how much
There is for madness-cruel, or complying ?

Those faery lids how sleek !

Those lips how moist !—they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds :

Into my fancy's ear

Melting a burden dear,
How “ Love doth know no fullness, nor no

True !-tender monitors !

I bend unto your laws:
This sweetest day for dalliance was boru!

So, without more ado,

I'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty moru,





Among the rest a shepherd (though but young
Yet hartned to his pipe) with all the skill
His few yeeres could, began to fill his quill.

Britannia's Pastora's.- BROWNE.


WEET are the pleasures that to verse

belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in

song; Nor can remembrance, Mathew ! bring to view A fate more pleasing, a delight more true Than that in which the brother poets joy'd, Who, with combined powers, their wit employ'd To raise a trophy to the drama's muses. The thought of this great partnership diffuses Over the genius-loving heart, a feeling Of all that's high, and great, and good, and

healing. Too partial friend ! fain would I follow thee Past each horizon of fine poesy ; Hain would I echo back each pleasant note, As o'er Sicilian seas clear anthems float 'Mong the light skimming gondolas far parted, Just when the sun his farewell beam has darted : But 'tis impossible; far different cares Beckon me sternly from soft “ Lydian airs," And hold my faculties so long in thrall, That I am oft in doubt whether at all I shall again see Phoebus in the morning : Or flush'd Aurora in the roseate dawning ! Or a white Naiad in a rippling stream ; Or a rapt seraph in a moonlight beam ; Or again witness what with thee I've seen, The dew by fairy feet swept from the green,

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