MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare Poeta.

THE ADIEU.

I Stretch'd me on a rocky height,*

To mark the prospect, grand and bright,
The sunny hills, the flowing tide,

The barks that o'er its surface glide;

HORACE.

* A hill near St. Ives, the favourite walk of a lady, whose absence gave rise to the "The Adieu." One of the anemonies, which she gathered in the course of a morning excursion, was given to the Author. It was prized for the giver's sake, but it soon withered, which occasioned "The Sequel." The subject fires me with poetic enthusiasm, but I dare not encourage it, lest, through the ardour of my feelings, I incautiously give the slightest pain to a heart that despises flattery. I shall only add

"Hunc fidum dico, bene qui succurrit amico."--SENECA.

I stretch'd me there, and fain would find

Soft solace for a troubled mind,

But, as I trac'd the magic view,

Each zephyr whisper'd me "Adieu."

Pain'd for the loss of pleasures past,
To earth a mournful look I cast,
Where many a blossom, fair and sweet,
Breath'd balmy fragrance at my feet.
The wild anemone stood first,

The primrose next, by winter nurs'd,
The violet, ting'd with modest blue,
But all-all seem'd to sigh " Adieu.”

Like them, alas! our comforts here,
Short bliss afford, then disappear;
Like them our full blown hopes expand,
"Till nipp'd by time's relentless hand;
But there exists (and may it long!)
A charm that claims my noblest song;

A friendship cordial, firm, and true, That shudders at the sound "Adieu."

And yet when all our griefs are past,
This gift th' Almighty grants at last :
That those whom virtue's ties unite,
Beneath the gloom of nature's night,
Shall, like the morning planet, rise
Effulgent in unclouded skies,

And bid to every sable view

A welcome, long, and last " Adieu.”

A SEQUEL TO THE ADIEU.

Poor faded flow'r! that bloom'd so fair, Whilst cherish'd by the upland air, Repaying with thy grateful scent

Th' athletic zephyrs nature lent,

I grieve to see thee thus decline, (Sad emblem of a fate like mine)

Yet whilst I mourn, thou tell'st me true

How soon to youth we bid "Adieu."

Few

years

have roll'd their courses on,

Since friends, ah! dearest friends, are gone.

Few years have fled, since bright and still

As summer's morn on village hill,

My early life pass'd jocund by,

Like sun-beams in a cloudless sky;

But winter now obstructs my view,
And blasts each pleasure with " Adieu.”

How sweet the days! how doubly bless'd
With all that chears the youthful breast!
When, like a wanton fawn, I play'd,
Transported, in my native shade.
Ah, witness this slow-falling tear!
This tribute from a stricken deer!

This life, that never can renew

The precious scenes I bade " Adieu."

ON CRUELTY.

The wretch unmov'd by pity's tear,

Is not a friend of mine;

And him, tho' other ties endear,

I scornfully resign;

For minds to kind compassion given, Esteem it as a gift from Heaven.

The child, by reason yet untaught,
Knows not the pain of death,
Nor deems it an unfeeling fault
To stop the vital breath;
He vents his vengeance on a fly,
And laughs to see the suff'rer die.