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A lovely form, that well might warm

The clay-cold apathy to feeling,
Her presence deign'd, and o’er mé lean’d,

Her rising bosom half revealing.
And beauties rare I ween were there,

And looks the young May-morn outsbining, Her eyes blue light, twin planets bright,

Like sunbeams seem'd on air reclining. She knelt and took a wistful look,

More sweet than love itself supposes, And with a smile, oh! bliss the while !

She kiss'd me with her lips of roses. And could she kiss! of promis'd bliss

A pledge too pure to ask concealing! And look so fond! esteem beyond!

That from her eyes her soul seem'd stealing: . The fact was proved, 'twas clear she loved!

Away flew care, and bale, and sorrow! Hope came, and joy without alloy,

And blithely bade despair good-morrow, Alas! in vain: the twilight's wane,

And sun from out the ocean beaming, Led forth the hour, whose wakeful power

Convinced me that I'd been a-dreaming. So 'tis through life, in present strife

We dream of future joy and gladness! Youth wanes apace, a daylight race

That leaves behind its night of sadness. But if in youth, our bosom's truth

Should meet with love's returning kisses, We're doubly bless'd, enrapt, caress'd,

And life's a ceaseless Aow of blisses, Then, Lyra ! say no longer nay,

Since joy on mutual love reposes; My passion bless! oh! whisper yes!

And kiss me with your lips of roses.

W

.

EDWIN AND MARIA. A ballad founded on fact, written at Ramsgate in the

summer of 1817. FAR from the busy scenes of life,

On Thanet's sea-girt shore,
Whose rocks to ocean's foaming strife

In mournful echoes roar,
Maria dwelt, whose guileless heart

The taint of vice ne'er knew;
Of nature she a lovely part

Fair as a lily grew.
Serenely gay in art untaught,

In sentiment refined ;
Her better part with virtue fraught

Was an unspotted mind.
No wayward passion urged her breast,

Nor aught her fancy fired
Save one pure flame, a flame that blest

The heart that it inspired.
That heart was Edwin's, happy swain !

To her what bliss he ow'd!"
In either breast a mutual flame

With mutual ardour glow'd.
Sweet is the bliss that youthful hearts

In mutual love bestow :
The joy thạt virtuous love imparts

Alone is bliss below.
But ah! how transient is that bliss!

As fades the blooming flower,
So fades each joy, and only is

The solace of an hour.
While thus their hearts in love's sweet chain

Affection fondly bound,
That ritual tie alone remain'd

That Hymen's altar crown'd.

But heaven forbade that happy state,

On earth forbade her stay,
And send the herald dire of fate

To call its own away.
Night's silent gloom was closing in,

And cheerless was the scene,
Ab! little thought Maria then

How fate would intervene!
When lo! the hand of heaven came,

And summon'd her away,
The pains of death unnerved her frame,

And nature felt decay.
And scarce Aurora had dispelled

The gloomy shades of night,
Ere her pure spirit had beheld

Her God in realms of light. Yet ere the vital spark had left

Its tenement of clay, · Ere yet the soul of earth bereft

Had wing'd its course away, While round her couch in life's last scene

Each friend in sorrow press'd, The dying maid with placid mien

Her Edwin thus address'd.
« Forbear, my Edwin, cease to sigh,

Oh! check that falling tear!
On seraph's wings to heaven I fly,

My Saviour waits me there.
" Yet while to thee still to pursue

Life's varied course is given,
Oh! keep that blissful path in view

That leads the soul to heaven.
“ Let virtue teach thy youthful heart

The ills of life to scan,
Teach thee to act that manly part

That man should act to man. 6 And oh! should vice in tempting form

E’er lure thy heart to stray,
Think thy Maria did thee warn,

And turn thyself away,

64 With me life's ills will soon be past,

More blissful scenes I view;
Life's vital stream is ebbing fast,

My Edwin dear, adieu!"
She paused-his inmost soul was moved

She in the arms of death
Then sweetly smil'd, and him she loved

Blest with her latest breath.
And now, amidst yon sylvan scene

Where rural nature reigns,
Where yonder village tower* is seen,

Repose her lorn remains.
Oft have I seen, at close of day,

The sorrowing Edwin there
Muse o'er her grave, and weeping pay

The tribute of a tear.
For can affliction e'er forget

Past scenes, or e'er refrain
To heave the sigh of fond regret

While memory holds her reign?
And oft the muse, to Virtue dear,

Will o'er her grave recline;
Nor blush to shed a sacred tear.

To deck her hallow'd shrine.
Feb. 12th, 1818.

BENEVOLUS.

GENIUS. OH GENIUS! wheresoe'er thou pour'st thy light All things become more beautiful and bright, And what at first but mean and trivial seems Looks lovely in the splendour of thy beams. So when the sun, unfailing source of day, Bending towards western worlds his rapid way, Thro' fields of azure rolls his flaming car, Fragments of glass and bits of broken spar Catch the rich lustre of his dazzling rays, i And rival e'en the diamond in its blaze. Bristol, June 11th, 1818. JACOB PLAYER. * St. Laurence Church, Thanet... ,

- J. Arliss, Printer, London.,

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:.. THE ROMANCE OF THE NORTH; ,

Or, THE HISTORY OF ODIN."

Resumed from page 28... ODIN had naturally a, mind formed to conceive the most vast projects, and he was capable of taking measures to carry them into effect, with as much wisdom as boldness. The country iñ which he was born, the nation over wbich he ruled, was too confined for his genius, Mimer, by what he had told him, seemed to ħave drawn à curtain from before his eyes, and shewed him a new universe, of which he might become the master'. From that moment Odin meditated those immense designs which no single mortal could execute, but which, several centuries after, were accomplished by his posterity. . ... . tr

"When he had thoroughly reflected on the subject, and consulted with Freya, be assembled his warriors, introduced Mimer to them, to tell the story of his embassy, and seconded the narrative 'by a mysterious dream, which Freya pretended to have had, and which she herself related to the assembled nation. The martial eloquence of the chief, the argumentative discourse of the philosopher, the empire of beauty, and that of superstition, all conspired to win the barbarians, and excited in them a desire of making distant conquests. They consented to traverse the deserts and forests which separated them from the country of .

VOL. II. No. II.

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