English

I.

Flora gave me my choice of the sweetest of flowers;
That grew ever bright in her meadows and bowers,
And the one which I chose I still wear with me now,
Oh, it smooths my repose, and it brightens my brow:
Yet take it, dear youth, it but bloometh for thee,
And will not bloom less bright tho' parted from me;
No, a blush will surround it, all viewless before,
When plac'd near the heart of the youth I adore.

II.

Oh, few are the moments, on life's dreary waste,
Of enjoyment, we mortals are destin'd to taste;

I.

Look on this glass at midnight's hour,
For then some fairy lends it the power
To shew to a lover's anxious eyes,
A sight not soon effac'd or forgot,
And disclose, if the nymph for whom he sighs,
Wears a heart that is his alone or not.

II.

Breathe but the name, and if she's sincere,
The mirror remains all cloudless and clear;
But, should she be false, a gathering cloud
Will startle the lover's anxious gaze, —

I.

O come, all fair and shining as thou art,
Light of my eyes, and treasure of my heart;
With me implore the holy Bridget's power,
To crown with resignation life's last hour.

II.

Then when we give to heaven the gift she gave,
And sink together in the peaceful grave,
The saint will lend her ever bright'ning smile,
And point above to some celestial isle

I.

How sweet is our youth, when Love lights up each feature,
And sweet are the spring-birds that sing in each grove,
And sweet are the roses when blooming — but sweeter
The shamrock presented by hands that we love
Oh, bright's the plant at close of even,
When it is with smile approving,
By some blushing maiden given

I.

The fountain of wealth was kept, they say,
By a genius all wither'd, and shrivell'd, and old,
Who pass'd each hour that roll'd in the day,
In counting his treasure, his jewels, and gold.
When he lay down to sleep, he trembled and wept,
For he thought of the girl, who, while he slept,
He charg'd to protect, with her utmost care,
Each gem that was costly, precious, and rare.
Nor vain were his fears; for one cloudless night,

I.

The Hindoo Maid, when her fond lover sails
At glory's call to tempt the dangerous sea,
Thus seeks to know if soft propitious gales
Will rise for him where'er his vessel be.

II.

A lamp within a radiant shell is plac'd,
(In which some sea-god had a fairy dream,)
And then 'tis launched upon the boundless waste
Of the bright Ganges ever-rolling stream.

III.

I.

Whene'er those sainted sounds I hear,
A Sylph flies round my youthful heart,
To guard it well from LOVE , for fear
I should unknowing with it part.
Blest Sylph, whene'er a radiant eye,
Or rosy cheek'd soft glancing fair,
Awakes my bosom's warmest sigh,
Watch well my heart, and linger there.

II.

Those sacred Isles, that frowning lie
On Scotia's rocky Western shore,

God said; responsive silence caught the words
And hid them in her heart, as night the stars.

Glowing and sparkling in the life-rayed sun
Of the celestial firmament, glided up
On pinions wide of playful lightnings poised,
That sphere Elysian consummate in bliss,
And all the angels thereto bent their gaze
As stars in nightly council watch the earth.

Then looked and saw, three paces from the light,
'Midst of that pure and renovated orb,
Beside the gardened bank of a bright stream,
A fair and lofty lady, clad in robes

Morn, like a maiden glancing o'er her pearls,
Streamed o'er the manna-dew, as though the ground
Were sown with starseed; — and the angels rose,
Each from his hallowed couch, and — duly made
The sole oblation of the heart to God —
Stood ready for departure; taking leave,
For a brief space, of their beloved compeers;
With many an ardent longing for the way,
As yet untried — 'neath such sweet leadership.

At length the last embrace, last look, exchanged,
High upward the bright bevy, like to light

A voice then spake —
The voice of one joy-hearted, soft and clear
As bells at early morn, on that blest day,
Named in the breast-laws of each starry orb,
Wherein Eternity entwines with Time
Its golden strands and weds the world to Heaven; —
Arise! come forth, beloved sister, rise.

How blest am I to serve thee, to release!
Nor doubt, nor wait. Behold thy handmaid me.
Gifts bring I for thee, gifts of countless price —
Of priceless worth. Thy lover Lord commands
Array thee for the bridals. Lo! the new