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TO OCTAVIA, The eighth Daughter of J. L g, Esq. on the completion of
her sixth year.
BY A. A. WATTS, ESQ.* * FULL many a gloomy month hath past,
On flagging wing, regardless by,
I gazed upon thy bright blue eye,
The hopes I most relied on, thwarted,
With many a shade since last we parted:
That dimples upon Childhood's cheek,
The dictates of the bosom break;
And strange to every softer feeling,
Cold, and unmoved-without revealing
The anguished thrill of hope delayed-
That can the breast of man invade No tender thought of thine and thee Hath faded from my memory!
* These elegant verses have been extensively circulated in manuscript in town, and have been attributed to Lord Byron. From information, however, on which we can rely, we consider ourselves as being fully authorised to ascribe them to the gentleman whose name we have prefixed to them.-ED.
But I have dwelt on each dear form
'Till woe awhile gave place to gladness;
Almost to peace, my bosom's sadness :-
For blessings on thy future years
Thy guilelessness of soul revealing,
Undimm’d-save by those gems of feeling-
Could prayers avert misfortune's blight,
Here hope for unalloyed delight,
On guilty heads alone descended,
In whose pure bosoms, sweetly blended,
Are fading frail, and few in number,
That steal upon the mourner's slumber,
And time with woman's zone bath bound thee,
The thorns of sorrow lurk, and wound thee,
And like the many-tinted bow
Which smiles the showery clouds away,
Attend, and soothe thee on thy way,
Farewell !-perchance a long farewell!
Woes, hope may vainly strive to quell
STANZAS. AT eve I'll haste to deck the tomb
Where lies whom most I lov'd on earth; The sweetest flowerets there shall bloom,
Fair emblems of his truth and worth. And when the summer's sun shall glow,
And faded all my spring flowers lie, The rose and woodbine sweet shall blow,
And shade the spot from every eye.
And fan each blossom with my sighs,
MARION. THE REPROACH.
TO A FAITHLESS HUSBAND, CAN the voice of reason reach you
In the midst of frantic joys?
What my peace of mind destroys.
Preys upon my wounded mind;
To another you've resign’d.
Feel in what the brutes partake; But to me, the dearest treasure
Was the faith that ne'er could break. . Let the syren, who's ensnar'd thee, . Glut upon the grosser part, If you only could have spar'd me
All I wish'd to have-your heart ! But too well I know, that never
Such a partnership can be; Soul and body ne'er can sever,
Until death has set them free. That I lov'd you (ah! how dearly!)
Heaven knows who heard my vows : That my faith I've kept sincerely,
Self-approving conscience knows. Not by merely chastely keeping;.
(That each matron ought to do) But my thoughts, awake or sleeping,
Never once have stray'd from you. Ob! you had (cease tears from flowing!)
A heart so tender and so true; Every joy of heaven's bestowing
All were centred once in you.
While I write, my babe lies sleeping,
Cradled by his mother's arms,
O'er the author of bis charms.
All that rends my heart in twain,
Or receive thee back again. The die is cast, for I can never
Sue for a divided heart; Nor imagine time will ever
Soothe my soul or ease its smart. .
Heaven can give, or man receive;
ALL hajl! the scene where fancy's mien
Smiles fair and marks of love discloses, Whose wanton freak leaves on the cheek
The kiss from Lyra's lips of roses! 'Twas thus I dream'd, as twilight gleam'd
Across the eastern arch of heaven, Like growing hope, that strives to cope
With chill despair's infectious leaven. Methought 'twas noon: the summer's sun
Beam'd from & cloudless sky upon me; Beneath the shade my limbs I laid, .
And listlessness came gently on me.