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THE BLOSSOMING OF THE SOLITARY

DATE-TREE.

A LAMENT.

I SEEm to have an indistinct recollection of having read, either in one of the ponderous tomes of George of Venice, or in some other compilation from the uninspired Hebrew writers, an apologue or Rabbinical tradition to the following purpose:

While our first parents stood before their offended Maker, and the last words of the sentence were yet sounding in Adam's ear, the guileful false serpent, a counterfeit and a usurper from the beginning, presumptuously took on himself the character of advocate or inediator, and pretending to intercede for Adam, exclaimed : “ Nay, Lord, in thy justice, not so! for the Man was the least in fault. Rather let the Woman return at once to the dust, and let Adam remain in this thy Paradise.” And the word of the Most High answered Satan ; “ The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. Treacherous fiend! if with guilt like thine, it had been possible for thee to have the heart of a Man, and to feel the yearning of a human soul for its counterpart, the sentence which thou now counsellest, should have been inflicted on thyself.”

The title of the following poein was suggested by a fact inentioned by Linnæus, of a date-tree in a nobleman's garden, which year after year had put forth a full show of blossoms, but never produced fruit, till a branch from another date-tree had been conveyed from a distance of some hundred leagues. The first leaf of the MS. from which the poem has been transcribed, and which contained the two or three introductory stanzas, is wanting : and the author has in vain taxed his memory to repair the loss. But a rude draught of the poem contains the substance of the stanzas, and the reader is requested to receive it as the substitute. It is not impossible that some congenial spirit, whose years do not exceed those of the author, at the time the poem was written, may find a pleasure in restoring the Lament to its original integrity by a reduction of the thoughts to the reqnisite metre.

THE DEVIL'S THOUGHTS.

I.

FROM his brimstone bed at break of day,

A walking the Devil is gone,
To visit his snug little farm the Earth,

And see how his stock goes on.

II.

Over the hill and over the dale,

And he went over the plain,
And backward and forward he switched his long tail

As a gentleman switches his cane.

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III.
And how then was the Devil drest?
Oh! he was in his Sunday's best :
His jacket was red and his breeches were blue,
And there was a hole where the tail came through.

IV.

He saw a Lawyer killing a viper

On a dunghill hard by his own stable ;
And the Devil smiled, for it put him in mind

Of Cain and his brother Abel.

He saw an Apothecary on a white horse

Ride by on his vocations ;
And the Devil thought of his old friend

Death in the Revelations.

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VI.

He saw a cottage with a double coach-house,

A cottage of gentility ;

It is her largeness, and her orerflow,
Which being incompleie, disquieieth me so!

I.
For nerer touch of gladness stirs my heart,
But tim'rously beginning to rejoice
Like a blind Arab, that from sleep doth start
In lonesome tent, I listen for thy voice.
Beloved ! 'tis not thine ; thou art not there!
Then melts the bubble into idle air,
And wishing without hope I restlessly despair.

V.

The mother with anticipated glee
Smiles o'er the child, that, standing by her chair
And flatt’ning its round cheek upon her knee,
Looks up, and doth its rosy lips prepare
To mock the coming sounds. At that sweet sight
She hears her own voice with a new delight;
And if the babe perchance should lisp the notes

aright,

VI.

Then is she tenfold gladder than before !
But should disease or chance the darling take,
What then avail those songs, which sweet of yore
Were only sweet for their sweet echo's sake ?
Dear maid ! no prattler at a mother's knee
Was e'er so dearly prized as I prize thee :
Why was I made for Love and Love denied to me?

DESIRE.
WHERE true Love burns, Desire is Love's pure

flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart.

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE.

HER
ER attachment may differ from yours in degree,

Provided they are both of one kind;
But friendship how tender soever it be

Gives no accord to Love, however refined.

Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature re

vealing, Grows ashamed of itself, and demurs : If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling,

You must lower down your state to hers.

NOT AT HOME.
THAT Jealousy may rule a mind

Where Love could never be
I know; but ne'er expect to find

Love without Jealousy.

She has a strange cast in her ee,

A swart sour-visaged maid-
But yet Love's own twin-sister she,

His house-mate and his shade.

Ask for her and she'll be denied :

What then ? they only mean
Their mistress has lain down to sleep,

And can't just then be seen.

TO A LADY,

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT

WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS.

NAY, dearest Anna! why so grave ?

I said you had no soul, 'tis true ! For what you are, you cannot have;

'Tis I, that have one since I first had you !

I

HAVE heard of reasons manifold

Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold

His eyes are in his mind.

What outward form and feature are

He guesseth but in part ;
But what within is good and fair

He seeth with the heart.

AN INVOCATION.
FROM " RE MORSE."

HEAR, sweet spirit, hear the spell,

Lest a blacker charm compel ! So shall the midnight breezes swell With thy deep long-lingering knell,

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