T. GRAY Educa T. GRAY. O fie upon this single life ! forego it. And hie bim home, at evening's close, Duchess of Malfy, J. WEBSTEP.. To sweet repast and calın repose. Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. 1. That inan must lead a happy life 2. Who is directed by a wife; The social smile, the sympathetic tear. 3. Who's free from matrimonial chains and Government. 4. Is sure to suffer for his pains. Oh ! blessed with temper, whose unclouded ray 5. Adain couid find no solid peace Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day. 6. Till he beheld a woman's face ; Moral Essays; Epistle II. 7. When Eve was given for a mate, 8. Adam was in a happy state. Why left you wife and children, Epismam on Matrimony: Read al:ernate lin-s, – 1. 3, 2, 4; Those precious motives, those strong knots of love? 5. 7. 6, 8. Macbeth, Act. iv. Sc. 3. POPE. SHAKESPEARE. INCONSTANCY. MOTHER-Love. The only love which, on this teeming earth, When a man talks of love, with caution hear Asks no return for passion's wayward birth. him ; The Dream. HON. MRS, NORTON. By day or night, in weel or woe, That heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show, And silent, ache for thee. BYRON. * My life, I love thee. A time will come with feeling fraught ! Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. And if returned from conquered foes, How blithely will the evening close, How sweet the linnet sing repose, To my young bride and me, Mary! “ Believe not what the lauımen say Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind: They 'll tell thee, sailors, when away, In every port a mistress find: Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, For Thou art present wheresoe'er I go. “ If to fair India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright, Thy breath is Africa's spicy gale, Thy skin is ivory so white. Thus every beauteous object that I view Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue. SIR WALTER SCOTT. TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS. Tell me not, sweet, I am unkinde, That from the nunnerie Of thy chaste breast and quiet ininde, To warre and armes I fee. “Though battle call me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Susan mourn ; Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms William shall to his dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop froin Susan's eye." True, a new mistresse now I chase, The first foe in the field ; And with a stronger faith imbrace A sword, a horse, a shield. The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosom spread ; No longer must she stay aboard : They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head. Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land ; “Adieu !" she cried ; and waved her lily hand. JOHN GAY. RICHARD LOVELACE, HERO TO LEANDER. BLACK-EYED SUSAN. All in the Downs the fleet was moored, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-eyed Susan came aboard ; “0, where shall I my true love find ? Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true If my sweet William sails among the crew.” William, who high upon the yard Rocked with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard He sighed, and cast his eyes below: The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And quick as lightning on the deck he stands. 0, go not yet, my love, The night is dark and vast ; And the waves climb high and fast Lest thy kiss should be the last. 0, kiss me ere we part ; Grow closer to my heart. the main. My heart of hearts art thou. My eyelids and my brow. And the loud sea roars below. So the sweet lark, high poised in air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast If chance his mate's shrill call he hear, And drops at once into her nest :-The noblest captain in the British fleet Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet. “O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever trne remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds ; my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee. Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs, So gladly doth it stir ; Thine eye in drops of gladness swims. I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh ; Thy locks are dripping balm ; Thou shalt not wander hence to-night, I'll stay thee with my kisses. To-night the roaring brine Will rend thy golden tresses ; ALFRED TENNYSON. The ocean with the morrow light My mother listening to my sleep Will be both blue and calın; Heard nothing but a sigh at night, And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as The short sigh rippling on the deep, soft as mine. When hearts run out of breath and sight Of men, to God's clear light. When others named thee, thought thy brows And when thon art dead, Leander, Were straight, thy smile was tender, ...“ Here My soul must follow thee! He comes between the vineyard-rows !" 0, vo not yet, my love, I said not “Ay," nor waited, Dear, To feel thee step too near. I left such things to bolder girls, Olivia or Clotilla. Nay, When that Clotilda through her curls Held both thine eyes in hers one day, The pleasant stars have set : I marvelled, let me say. 0, go not, go not yet, I could not try the woman's trick : Between us straightway fell the blush A wind came with thee in a flush, As blown through Horeb's bush. But now that Italy invokes Her young men to go forth and chase lle says, “No! still 't is dark.” The foe or perish, — nothing chokes She says, “The dawn grows bright," My voice, or drives me from the place : I look thee in the face. He says, “O no, my Light." “ Stand up and say, I love thee! it is understood, Gets not the heaven gray ?" Confest: I do not shrink or start : No blushes : all my body's blool He says, “The morning star Has gone to greaten this poor heart, (limbs the horizon's bar.” That, loving, we may part. She says, “ Then quick depart: Our Italy invokes the youth Alas! you now must start ; To die if need be. Still there 's room, Though earth is strained with dead, in truth. But give the cock a blow Since twice the lilies were in bloom They had not grudged a tomb. And mother, who can say since then “My country,” cannot say through life PARTING LOVERS. · My son, my spouse, my flower of men," And not weep dumb again. She says, ANONYMOL'S (Chinese). Translation of WILLIAM R. ALGER. SIENNA. I LOVE thee, love thee, Giulio ! Some call me cold, and soine demure, the proof was poor, And no one could be sue. Heroic males the country bears, Bit daughters give up more than sons. You flash your souls out with the guns, well ; But we, Before thy song (with slisted rhymes To suit my name) did I undo Thou hast not seen a hand push through - we empty heart and home Of life's life, love! we bear to think You're gone, . to feel youmay no t come, ... To hear the door-latch stir and clink Yet no more yon, nor sink. |