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FROM THE ORATORIO OF CREATION.
In native worth and honour clad,
With beauty, courage, strength adorn'd,
To heaven erect and tall he stands,
The Lord of earth, and nature's king.
The large and arched front sublime
Of wisdom deep declares the seat;
And in his eyes with brightness shines
The breath and image of his God.
With fondness leans upon his breast
The partner for him form'd,
A woman, fair and graceful spouse.
Her soft and smiling virgin-looks,
Of flow'ry spring the mirror,
Bespeak him love, and joy, and bliss.
Who, in this world of care and strife,
Doth kindly cheer and sweeten life,
As friend, companion, and as wife?
Who, by a thousand tender wiles,
By fond endearments, and by smiles,
Our bosom of its grief beguiles ?
From whom do all our pleasures flow;
Who draws the scorpion sting of woe,
And makes the heart with transport glow?
Who, of a nature more refin'd,
Doth soften man's rude stubborn mind,
And make him gentle, mild, and kind?
Who binds us all to one another,
By silken bands of father, mother,
Of husband, children, sister, brother?
When hours of absence past we meet,
Say, who enraptur'd runs to greet
Our glad return with kisses sweet ?
7 Who, by a word, a touch, a sigh, The simple glancing of her
eye, Can fill the soul with ecstacy?
Bid me with mandate stern prepare
To cope with death, with grief, or care,
All, all, undaunted I would bear
Guide me to mountains white with Girow;
Where chilling winds forever blow,
E’en there contented I would go,
Friend and companion is a Wife,
Who, in a world of care and strife,
Doth kindly cheer and sweeten life:
L O V E.
From The Lay of the LAST MINSTREL.
BY WALTER SCOTT, ESQ.
COMPOSED BY ATTWOOD.
In peace, Love tunes the Shepherd's reed;
In war he mounts the warrior's steed;
In halls, in gay attire is seen;
In hamlets, dances on the green.
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
And men below, and saints above;
For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
True Love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven.
It is not Fantasy's hot fire,
Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; It liveth not in fierce desire,
With dead desire it doth not die;
It is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,
In body and in soul can bind.
From the Oratorio of Joseph and his Brethren.
What's sweeter than the new-blown rose,
Or breezes from the new-mown close?
What's sweeter than an April morn,
Or May-day's silver fragrant thorn?
What than Arabia's spicy grove?
-O sweeter far the breath of Love.
From The Play of The Mysterious Bride,
BY LUMLEY ST. GEORGE SKEFFINGTON, ESQ.
BEWARE the fond delusion,
Which simple hearts revere,
Nor heed the bold intrusion
Of passion insincere;
For hearts may seem expiring
With sighs of deep despair;
For @yes may gaze admiring,
And yet no love he there.