Hence are my days a barren round
Of trifling hopes, and idle fears;
For life-true life-is only found
In social joys, and social tears.
Let mopeing monks, and rambling rakes,
The joys of wedded love deride
Their manners rise from gross mistakes,
Unbridled lust, or gloomy pride.
Thy sacred sweets, connubial love,
Flow from affection more refin'd;
Affections sacred to the dove,
Heroic, constant, warm, and kind,
Hail, holy flame! hail, sacred tie!
That binds two gentle souls in one:
On equal wings their troubles fly,
In equal streams their pleasures run.
Their duties still their pleasures bring,
Hence joys in quick succession come;
A queen is she, and he's a king,
And their dominion is-their home.
Happy the youth, who finds a bride,
In sprightly days of health and ease;
Whose temper's to his own ally'd,
No knowledge seeks-but how to please.
A thousand sweets their days attend,
A thousand comforts rise around;
The husband, parent, wife, and friend,
In ev'ry dearest sense is found.
Yet think not, man! 'midst scenes so gay,
That clouds and storms will never rise;
A cloud may dim the brightest day,
And storms disturb the calmest skies.
Still shall their days with bliss be crown'd,
Nor shall their comforts hence remove;
Bitters are oft salubrious found,
And lover's quarrels heighten love.
The lights and shades, and goods and ills,
Thus finely blended in their fate,
To sweet submission bow their wills,
And make them happy in their state.
FROM A LOVER OF THE HOUSE OF YORK, To his Mistress of the House of Lancaster.
Ir this fair rose offend thy sight,
It in thy bosom wear;
'Twill blush to find itself less white,
And turn Lancastrian there.
Ан, Hope, seraphic heav'nly maid,
Impart thy lenient power!
Oh! swift descend, and with thy aid
Come cheer the dreary hour!
-Ah! haste and bring thy aid to me.—
Come, soothing balm, dear liberty!
Ah! break my chains and set me free,
And, from this gloomy dungeon drear,
Let me once more with transport see
- Delights which you alone can cheer.
Sometimes with grief of heart oppress'd,
Urg'd by despair, the door I try
In vain in quest of liberty;
The fruitless effort fills mine eye
With tears that lull me to my rest.
Dreams of vain hope then fill my mind,
Visions of bliss before me fly,
And, in my sleep, I seem to find
A constant view of liberty.
I wake in peace, but sad reverse,
The heav'nly aëreal is not there;
Around my dungeon all is hush,
All gloomy, silent, dark despair.
Then, welcome, death, thou fear'd, but friendly foe!
Welcome thy shuddering pill, thy awful, deadly blow,
That frees a broken heart from agonizing woe,
And bids the suffering wretch resign his breath,
To be at peace within the arms of death.
AT that lone hour, when care is lost
In sweet forgetfulness and sleep,
The woe-worn wretch, by sorrows crost,
Retires alone to wake and weep:
The fearful horrors of the storm and wind
Are small, compar'd to those in his sad mind.
Beyond these battlements on high,
I view yon mountain's lofty base;
The tear, succeeded by the sigh,
Will rush adown my pallid face;
As thus in melancholy mood reclin'd,
I vent the anguish hid in this sad mind.
Oblivion's stream, I've oft been told,
Has pow'r to calm the sense of woe,
The senses of the wretch enfold,
And bid his sorrows cease to flow:
But no Lethean cup can I e'er find,
For mis'ry holds her seat in this sad mind.
What sounds of horror do I hear!
The owl's shrill scream, the raven's wing,
In murmurs reach my frighten'd ear,
And to this heart conviction bring,
That though to Virtue's path inclin’d,
Sweet peace is far from me, and this sad mind.
At evening's lone and quiet hour,
The droning bat wheel'd slowly by,
Alive to Superstition's pow'r,
Th' unbidden tear rush'd from my eye;
And, as the western sun declin'd,
Fresh fears and horrors rose in this sad mind.
Ah! should this presage of my heart,
Which fills my soul with throbbing woe,
Be soon fulfill'd, and death's sure dart
Have laid my darling Edgar low:
The same dread power, with hand so kind,
Shall peace and joy restore to this sad mind.
With him I'll fly to that blest shore,
Where joy immortal ever reigns—
Where pain and sorrow are no more,
And love divine the soul sustains-
Where mortal films, no longer blind,
And griefs and cares expell'd from this sad mind.
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