The blushing rose-bud in its vernal bed, Oh! when such Pairs their kindred spirit find, Now Prudence, in her cold and thrifty care, Frown'd on the maid, and bade the youth despair; For pow'r parental sternly saw, and strove Nor strove in vain; but while the fair one's Till hov'ring rumour chas'd the pleasing dream, And veil'd, with raven-wing, the silver beam. "Honora lost! my happy rival's bride! Swell ye full sails! and roll thou mighty tide! O'er the dark waves forsaken Andrè bear Amid the vollying thunders of the war! To win bright glory from my country's foes, E'en in this ice of Love, my bosom glows. Voluptuous London ! in whose gorgeous bow'rs The frolic pleasures lead the dancing hours, From Orient-vales Sabean-odours bring, Nor ask her roses of the tardy Spring; Where Painting burns the Grecian meed to claim, From the high Temple of immortal Fame, Hoo'ring rumour.-The tidings of Honora's marriage. Upon that event, Mr. Andrè quitted his profession as a merchant, and joined our Army in America. Bears to the radiant goal with ardent pace, Her Kauffman's beauty, and her Reynold's grace; Where Music floats the glitt'ring roofs among, "Ye soft'ning luxuries! ye polish'd arts ! Bend your enfeebling rays on tranquil hearts! I quit the Song, the Pencil, and the Lyre, White robes of Peace, and Pleasure's soft attire, To seize the Sword, to mount the rapid Car, In all the proud habiliments of war. Honora lost! I woo a sterner bride, The armed Bellona calls me to her side; Harsh is the music of our marriage strain! And rouse each latent ardour of my soul. And tho' unlike the soft melodious lay, Its deeper tones shall whisper, e'er they cease, More genuine transport, and more lasting peace! "Resolv'd I go! no from that fatal bourn To these gay scenes, shall Andrè's step return! Set is the star of love, that ought to guide His refluent bark across the mighty tide! But while my country's foes, with impious hand, Hurl o'er the blasted plains the livid brand Of dire Sedition!-Oh! let Heav'n ordain While Andrè lives! he may not live in vain! “Yet without one kind farewell, cou'd I roam Far from my weeping friends, my peaceful home, The best affections of my heart must cease, And gratitude be lost, with hope, and peace! 66 My lovely sisters! who were wont to twine Your souls' soft feeling with each wish of mine, Shall, when this breast beats high at glory's call, From your mild eyes the show'rs of sorrow fall? The light of excellence, that round you glows, Decks with reflected beam your brother's brows! Oh! may his fame, in some distinguish'd day, Pour on that excellence the brightest ray! "Dim clouds of woe! ye veil each sprightly grace That us'd to sparkle in Maria's face. My *tuneful Anna to her lute complains, But grief's fond throbs arrest the parting strains. Fair as the silver blossom on the thorn, Soft as the spirit of the vernal morn, Louisa, chace those trembling fears, that prove Th' ungovern'd terrors of a sister's love. * Tuneful Anna.-Miss Anne Andrè has a poetical talent. |