1.

YE swains whom radiant beauty move,

Or music's art with sounds divine,

Think how these rapt'rous charms improve, When two such gifts together join.

2.

Where Cupid's bow, and Phoebus' lyre,
In the same powerful hand are found:
Where lovely eyes inflame desire,

And trembling notes are taught to wound,

3.

Enquire not out the matchless fair

Who can this double death bestow,

If her enchanting voice you hear,

Or view her eyes, too soon you'll know !

'Tis when the rapid trembling strings

Maria's hand obey,

Or when the sweet soft notes she sings

The pangs of love convey,

We learn how music's magic charms
The passions may controul;

Feel how the lyre with rapture warms,
Or melts the yielding soul.

TO-MORROW.

SEE, where the falling day
In silence steals away,

Behind the western hills withdrawn ; Her fires are quench'd, her beauty fled, With blushes all her face o'erspread,

As conscious she had ill fulfill'd

The promise of the dawn!

Another morning soon shall rise,
Another day salute our eyes

As smiling, and as fair as she,
And make as many promises;
But do not thou

The tale believe,

They 're sisters all,

And all deceive.

THE FAREWEL.*

YES, Fate forbids us to be blest,

It points the parting hour,

And bids illusive wishes yield

To duty's rigid pow'r.

I would our lot had been more kind,

And I might have been thine;

Yet think dear youth-that boon denied,

How fruitless to repine!

Thine be fair Honor's generous glow,

By kindlier stars ensur'd,

While conscious Virtue cheers each scene,

By hopeless love obscur❜d.

Subdued by Reason's mild control

A calmer bliss we'll claim,

Fixt by the Friend's endearing tye,
"The Brother's" tender name.

Believe that this unchanging breast
Which throbb'd for thee alone,

* Imitated chiefly from an old English Lyric, entitled “The Surrender," published in 1657, in a Collection of Poems by Henry King, &c.

Shall long its Harry's manly worth

With secret transport own.

Farewel! alas! these falling tears,

These struggling sighs betray,

How this weak heart thy long-urged flight.

Could gladly yet delay.

Ah! why kiss off the sorrowing dew

That bathes my languid cheek,

And bid those fondly-beaming eyes

Such thrilling meanings speak?

If we must part, in pity soothe,
Not irritate my grief;

For soon the heart too true to thee,

Must break-or find relief!

"Que ne puis-je dans un songe,

"Tenir son cœur enchanté ?

"Que ne puis-je du mensonge

"Passer à la Vérité ?"

J. J. ROUSSEAú.

1.

SWEET aëry Dream, that fly'st my fond embrace,

Ah! let me still thy dear illusions prove; Stay lovely shade, and once again retrace The bright similitude of him I love.

2.

Again assume the tincture of that cheek
Where love and youth dispense the rosy dye,
Let the quick glance the rapid thought bespeak,
And sparkling azure animate the eye.

8.

Round the ripe lip, let smiles and graces play, Let magic accents blend their soft controul; With each warm sigh the tend'rest wishes stray, And pour ensnaring witchcraft thro' the soul.

4.

Give him again to Lesbia's faithful arms,

All that her wish could paint, her heart approve; With flattering visions chase her fond alarms, Dispel her cares, and tune each thought to love.

5.

Sleep should the bliss thy shadowy forms reveal, Elude my hopes, and shun my waking sight,

In pity once again my eyelids seal,

And lock my senses in eternal night.

H