if their description tends to recall the fancy from that eccentricity to which it had been propelled in search of treasures without value, and objects without existence, to its natural course, or determine the relative proportion of happiness and misery allotted to the young and to the old-we shall rest satisfied with the picture we have drawn; and in the hope that it will attach the memory and the affections of those for whom it is designed, to the scenes and associations of their early days, we are content to resign it to their hands, without adding another embellishment, which may endanger the reputation, or weaken the impression of our labour. M. S. TO MARY. I'VE danc'd with Fanny fifty times, A younger came, with angel mien, A dovelike eye, and heart so free Oh! Mary, had I never seen, Or seeing, never ceas'd to see! EDITH. EDITH! o'er the waters blue When you see this shady scene, By the power thou hast to grieve me— O'er the waters when I ride, In the battle's wild affray, Thou shalt hold thy wonted sway; Then, whate'er may be my lot, Edith, love, forget me not! Yet one-yet another kiss! LAURA. "For she in shape and beauty did excel All other idols that the heathen do adore." "And all about her altar scatter'd lay Great sorts of lovers piteously complaining."-SPENSER. A LOOK as blithe, a step as light, As fabled nymph, or fairy sprite; A voice, whose every word and tone, Bright with the hopes of gay fifteen ; These, lov'd and lost one!-these were thine, Themes for my laughter,-and my rhyme. She saw and conquered; in her eye That shone destruction, while it seem'd That could command-we knew not how- In bonds I may not bear again; For dearer to an honest heart Already many an aged dame, Skilful in scandalizing fame, Foresaw the reign of Laura's face, Her sway, her folly, and disgrace. Minding the beauty of the day More than her partner, or her play :"Laura a beauty ?-flippant chit! I vow I hate her forward wit!" ("I lead a club")—" why, Ma'am, between us, Her mother thinks her quite a Venus; But every parent loves, you know, To make a pigeon of her crow." "The girl is straight," ("we call the ace,") "Yet Miss, forsooth,"-(" who play'd the ten ?") While thus the crones hold high debate, The circling waltz and gay quadrille The first his fluttering heart to lose, Was Captain Piercy, of the Blues; He squeez'd her hand-he gaz'd, and swore He entertain'd his charmer's ear, Of long blockades, and sharp attacks, Of nunneries, and escalades, And damsels-and Damascus blades. Alas! too soon the Captain found E'en in the midst of Badajoz; Since Laura-and his stars were cruel, He fought, and perish'd; Laura sigh'd, To hear how hapless Piercy died; And wip'd her eyes, and thus express'd The feelings of her tender breast: "What? dead!-poor fellow-what a pity! He was so handsome and so witty: Shot in a duel too-good gracious! -How I did hate that man's mustachios !!" |