The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloom'd with its owner a while; And the tear that is wip'd with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile THE DOVES. I. REAS'NING at ev'ry step he treads, While meaner things, whom instinct leads, II. One silent eve I wander'd late, And heard the voice of love: The turtle thus address'd her mate, III. Our mutual bond of faith and truth, Those blessings of our early youth Shall cheer our latest age: IV. While innocence without disguise, And constancy sincere, Shall fill the circles of those eyes, And mine can read them there. V. Those ills that wait on all below, VI. When lightnings flash among the trees, Or kites are hov'ring near, I fear lest thee alone they seize, And know no other fear. VII. "Tis then I feel myself a wife, VIII. But oh! if fickle and unchasto, IX. No need of lightnings from on high, Denied th' endearments of thine eye, X. Thus sang the sweet sequester'd bird, A FABLE. A RAVEN, while with glossy breast Shook the young leaves about her ears, Can't prophesy themselves at all ;) The morning came, when neighbour Hodge Who long had mark'd her airy lodge, And destin'd all the treasure there MORAL. "Tis Providence alone secures A COMPARISON. THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, And a wide ocean swallows both at last. Streams never flow in vain; where streams abound, ANOTHER. ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY. " SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maidSilent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world's gay busy throng; With gentle, yet prevailing force, Intent upon her destin'd course; Graceful and useful all she does, Blessing and bless'd where'er she goes, Pure-bosom'd as that watʼry glass, And Heav'n reflected in her face. THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT. TO MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON. MARIA! I have ev'ry good For thee wish'd many a time, |