Some bliss, thro' Fancy's optics view'd, As mortals frequently 'tis seen, "Long time I've led a weary life" "At length my liberty I gain, Thank fortune for the favour! For Kate this night her bed has ta'en, Then welcome days and nights replete With joys transcending measure! Nought henceforth can my bliss defeat, Or freeze the tide of pleasure!" Ye whom such reveries delight, ADDRESS TO WOMAN. DESIGN'D for peace, and soft delight, Stay in the shelter'd vale below, Where calmly blows the fragrant air; But shun the mountain's stormy brow, For darken'd winds are whistling there. The ruffian, MAN, endures the strife Ah! surely on thy natal day Great Nature smil'd in kindliest mood; Suspended held the bloody fray, And hush'd the wind, and smooth'd the flood. While MAN, that lives a life of pain, Was with a soul vindictive born, Loud winds blew round him, and the rain But THOU, beneath a kinder sky, What distant tempest wakes thy fears? Why does that mild, that trembling eye, Gleam through a chrystal film of tears? Stay in the vale!-no wild affright Miss Seward SONNET. DRY be that tear, my gentlest love, Hush'd be that sigh-be dry that tear, Ask'st thou how long my vows shall stay, Dry be that tear, be hush'd that sigh, At least I'll love thee till I die! And does that thought affect thee too, R. B. Sheridan. VERSES. LET others plough the foaming seas, The humble cot, the quiet hour. Let some assume the gilded state, Let some explore Arabia's waste, Virtue can raise the drooping heart, pang of care. C. S. 1776. LINES WRITTEN BY MRS. OPIE, And sung at the Concert for the benefit of the Widow of the late Mr. Sharpe. COLD are the lips whose gentle force Lov'd child of feeling! now no more Thy tones the soul of taste shall feed: Shall sigh and miss thy tuneful reed. With thee, to our neglected plains The soul of genuine music came; While all thy precepts fann'd the flame. But short the boast-those strains so dear Will sweetly sound thy tuneful reed. |