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When Eve, her dewy far beneath,
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,

And every storm is laid ;
If such an hour was e'er thy choice,
Oft let me hear thy soothing voice

Low whispering through the shade.

MRS. C. SMITH.

SONNET.
THE partial Muse has from my earliest hours

Smild on the rugged path I'm doom'd to tread, And still with sportive hand has snatch'd wild flowers,

To weave fantastic garlands for my head : But far, far happier is the lot of those

Who never learn'd her dear delusive art; Which, while it decks the head with many a rose,

Reserves the thorn, to fester in the heart. For ftill she bids soft Pity's melting eye

Stream o'er the ills she knows not to remove ; Points every pang, and deepens every figh

Of mourning friendship, or unhappy love. Ah! then, how dear the Muse's favours cost, If those paint forrow best-who feel it most!

SONNET

ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE NIGHT.

INGALE.
SWEET poet of the wood-a long adien!
Farewel, foft minstrel of the early year!

L ?

Ah ! 'twill be long ere thou shalt sing anew,

And pour thy music on the " night's dull ear." Whether on spring thy wand'ring flights await,

Or whether Glent in our groves you dwell, The penfive muse shall own thee for her mate,

And still protect the song she loves so well. W’ith cautious step, the love-lawn youth fhall glide

Thro' the lone brake that shades thy mossy nest; And shepherd girls, from eyes profane, shall hide · The gentle bird, who sings of pity best; For still thy voice shall soft affections move, And still be dear to sorrow, and to love !

SONNET,

TO THE RIVER ARUN. . Be the proud Thames, of trade the busy mart;

Arun! to thee will other praise belong;
Dear to the lover's and the mourner's heart,

And ever sacred to the fons of song!
Thy banks romantic, hopeless love shall seek,

Where o'er the rocks the mantling bind with flaunts; And sorrow's drooping form and faded cheek,

Choose on thy willowed shore her lonely haunts ! Banks! which inspir'd thy Otway's plaintive train!

Wilds! whose lorn echoes learn'd the deeper tone Of Collins' powerful shell! yet once again

Another poet Hayley is thine own!
Thy classic stream anew shall hear a lay,
Bright as its waves, and various as its way!

SONNET,
TO NIGHT..

I Love thee, mournful sober-suited night,

When the faint moon, yet lingering in her wane, And veil'd in clouds, with pale uncertain light,

Hangs o'er the waters of the restless main. In deep dépreslion sunk, the enfeebled mind

Will to the deaf, cold elements complain,

And tell the embofom'd grief, however vain, To fullen surges, and the viewless wind. Though no repose on thy dark breast I find,

I still enjoy thee-cheerless as thou art ;

For in thy quiet gloom, the exhausted heart Is calm, though wretched; hopeless, yet resign'd: While, to the winds and waves its sorrows given, May reach-cho' loft on earth-the ear of Heaven!

THE ORIGIN OF FLATTERY,

VY HEN Jove, in anger to the fons of earth, Bid artful Vulcan give Pandora birth, And sent the fatal gift, which spread below O'er all the wretched race contagious woe, Unhappy man, by vice and folly toft, Found in the storms of life his quiet lost, While Envy, Avarice, and Ambition, hurl'd Discord and Death around the warring world ; Then the blest peasant left his fields and fold, And barter'd love and peace, for power and gold;

Left his calm cottage, and his native plain,
In search of wealth to tempt the faithless main;
Or, braving danger, in the battle stood,
And bath'd his savage hands in human blood:
No longer then, his woodland walks among,
The shepherd lad his genuine passion fung,
Or fought at early morn his soul's delight,
Or grav'd her name upon the bark at night,
To deck her flowing hair no more he wove
The fimple wreath, or with ambitious love
Bound his own brow with myrtle or with bay,
But broke his pipe, and threw his crook away.
The nymphs forsaken, other pleasures sought:
Then first for gold their venal hearts were bought,
And Nature's blush to fickly art gave place,
And Affe&tation seiz'd the seat of Grace:
No more Simplicity, by sense refin'd,
Or generous Sentiment, poffess'd the mind;
No more they felt each other's joy and woe,
And Cupid Acd, and bid his useless bow.
But with deep grief propitious Venus pin'd,
To see the ills which threaten’d womankind;
Ills, that she knew her empire would disarm,
And rob her subjects of their sweetest charm;
Good humour's potent influence deftroy,
And change for low'ring frowns, the smile of joy.
Then deeply fighing at the mournful view,
She try'd at length what heavenly art could do
To bring back pleasure to her pensive train,
And vindicate the glories of her reign.
A thousand little loves attend the task,
And bear from Mars's head his radiant casque,

The fair enchantress on its filver bound, Wreath'd with soft spells her magic ceftus round. Then shaking from her hair ambrosial dew, Infus'd fair hope, and expectation new, And fiAed wilhes, and persuasive fighs, . And fond belief, and “ eloquence of eyes," And fault'ring accents, which explain so well What study'd speeches vainly try to tell, And more pathetic filence, which imparts Infectious tenderness to feeling hearts, Soft tones of pity; fascinating smiles ; And Maia's son assisted her with wiles, And brought gay dreams, fantastic visions brought, And wav'd his wand o’er the reducing draught. Then Zephyr came : To him the goddess cry'd, « Go fetch from Flora all her Aow'ry pride, " To fill my charm, each scented bud that blows, “ And bind my myrtles with her thornless rose : « Then speed thy flight to Gallia's smiling plain, " Where rolls the Loire, the Garonne, and the Seine : “ Dip in their waters thy celestial wing, " And the soft dew to fill my chalice bring; “ But chiefly tell thy Flora, that to me “ She send a bouquet of her fleurs de lis; " That piognant spirit will complete my spell.”

'Tis done : the lovely sorceress says, 'tis well! And now Apollo lends a ray of fire, The cauldron bubbles, and the fames aspire ; The watchful Graces round the circle dance, With arms entwin'd, to mark the work's advance ; And with full quiver sportive Cupid came, Temp'ring his favourite arrows in the flame.

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