The redbreast oft, at evening hours, When howling winds and beating rain, In tempests shake the sylvan cell; Or 'midst the chase, on every plain, The tender thought on thee shall dwell; Each lonely scene shall thee restore; VARIATIONS. Ver. 17. When chiding winds, and beating rain, Or 'midst the flocks, on every plain, H VERSES WRITTEN ON A PAPER WHICH CONTAINED A PIECE OF BRIDE-CAKE, GIVEN TO THE AUTHOR BY A LADY. E curious hands, that, hid from vulgar eyes, By search profane shall find this With virtue's awe forbear the sacred prize, This precious relic, formed by magic power, Beneath the shepherd's haunted pillow laid, Was meant by love to charm the silent hour, The secret present of a matchless maid. 5 The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond request, 9 Each nice ingredient chose with happiest art; Fears, sighs, and wishes of the enamoured breast, And pains that please, are mixed in every part. With rosy hand the spicy fruit she brought, From Paphian hills, and fair Cythera's isle; And tempered sweet with these the melting thought, The kiss ambrosial, and the yielding smile. 15 Ambiguous looks, that scorn and yet relent, And meeting ardours, and exulting youth. 20 Sleep, wayward God! hath sworn, while these remain, With flattering dreams to dry his nightly tear, And cheerful hope, so oft invoked in vain, With fairy songs shall soothe his pensive ear. If, bound by vows to friendship's gentle side, 25 Sweet peace, who long hath shunned my plaintive day, 29 Consents at length to bring me short delight, Thy careless steps may scare her doves away, And grief with raven note usurp the night. TO MISS AURELIA C -R, ON HER WEEPING AT HER SISTER'S Wedding. EASE, fair Aurelia, cease to mourn, And seize the treasure you regret. With love united Hymen stands, And softly whispers to your charms, "Meet but your lover in my bands, You'll find your sister in his arms." 5 SONNET. HEN Phoebe formed a wanton smile, Before a rising tear! From 'midst the drops, my love is born, 5 That o'er those eyelids rove: Thus issued from a teeming wave The fabled queen of love. SONG. THE SENTIMENTS BORROWED FROM SHAKESPEARE. OUNG Damon of the vale is dead, Ye lowly hamlets, moan; A dewy turf lies o'er his head, And at his feet a stone. His shroud, which death's cold damps destroy, Of snow white threads was made: All mourned to see so sweet a boy In earth for ever laid. Pale pansies o'er his corpse were placed, b 6 10 VARIATION. Ver. 2. Ye lowland hamlets, moan; b It is uncertain where this poem first appeared. It was inserted in the Edinburgh edition of the Poets, 1794. A manuscript copy in the collection recently belonging to Mr. Upcott, and now in the British Museum, is headed, "Written by Collins when at Winchester School. From a Manuscript." |