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your mansion !
Bitter as those when lovers part,
Sail'd, o'er the Sun's ethereal wave, In mystery from your eye-lid start!
To planet-isles of odorous light! Sadly you lean your head to mine,
Sweet Venus, what a clime he found And round my neck in silence twine,
Within thy orb's ambrosial round! Your hair along my bosom spread,
There spring the breezes, rich and warm, All humid with the tears you shed!
That pant around thy twilight car; Have I not kiss'd those lids of snow?
There angels dwell, so pure of form, Yet still, my love, like founts they flow,
That each appears a living star! 2 Bathing our cheeks, whene'er they meet
These are the sprites, oh radiant queen!
Thou send'st so often to the bed
Of her I love, with spell unseen,
Thy planet's brightning balm to shed;
To make the eye's enchantment clearer,
To give the cheek one rose-bud more,
Which had been, oh! too dear before!
But, whither means the Muse to roam ?
'T is time to call the wanderer home. With Boreas to make out the trio.
Who could have ever thought to search her
Up in the clouds with Father Kircher?
So, health and love to all
Long may the bowl that pleasures bloom in,
The flow of heart, the soul's expansion,
Mirth, and song, your board illumine!
Fare you well-remember too, Warm from the very lips of health!
When cups are flowing to the brim,
That here is one who drinks to you,
And, oh!-as warmly drink to him.
No-lady! lady! keep the ring;
Oh! think low many a future year,
Of placid smile and downy wing,
May sleep within its holy sphere!
Do not disturb their tranquil dream,
Though love hath ne'er the mystery warm'd,
Yet Heaven will shed a soothing beam,
To bless the bond itself hath form'd.
But then, that eye, that burning eye!
Oh! it doth ask, with magic power,
If Heaven can ever bless the tie
Where Love inwreathes no genial flower!
Away, away, bewildering look!
Or all the boast of Virtue 's o'er;
Go-hie thee to the sage's book,
And learn from him to feel no more! Μυρομενην δ' εφιλησα τα δ' ώς δροσερης απο πηγης, he embarks into the regions of the sun. • Vides (says Cosmiel) Δακρυα μιγνυμενων πιπτε κατα στοματων
bancasbestinam naviculam commoditati tuæ præparatam.. Irinerar. Ειπε δ' ανειρομενω, τινος oύνεκα δακρυα λειβεις; 1, dial. 1, cap. 5. There are some very strange fancies in this work
of Kirober. Δειδια μη με λιπης εστε γαρ ορκαπαται.
W'ben the genius of the world and bis fellow-traveller arrive The water is so clear around the island, ibat the rocks are seen at the planet Venus, they find an island of loveliness, full of odours beneath to a very great depth, and, as we entered the barbour, they and intelligences, where an els preside, who shed the cosmetic inappeared to us so near tbe surface, ibat it seemed impossible wo Auence of tbis planet over the earth; such being, according to astra should not strike on them. There is no necessity, of course, for logers, the « vis inflaxivar of Venus. When they are in this part of Reaving the lead, and the negro pilot, looking down at the rocks ibe heavens, a casaistical question occurs 10 Theodidactas, and he from the bows of the ship, takes ber through this difficult naviga- asks • Whether baptism may be performed with the waters of Vetion, with a skill and confidence wbich seem to astonish some of the nus!,- An aquis globi Voneris baptismus institui possitio 10 oldest sailors.
which the genius answers, certainly.. 1 In Kirchen's • Ecstatic Journey to Heaven, Cosmiel, the re- 2 This idea is FATHER KIRCHEN's. • Tot animatos soles dixisses.. nius of the world, gires Tbeodidactus a boat of asbestos, with which hinc rar. 1, dial. 1, cap. 5.
Put off the fatal zone you wear;
The lucid pearls around it Are tears that fell from Virtue there
The hour that Love unbound it.
vo cercand' io Donna, quant' è possibile, in altrul La desiata vostra forma vera.
PETRARC. Sonell. 13.
Yes, if 't wcre any common love
That led my pliant heart astray, grant, there's not a power above Could wipe the faithless crime away!
But, 't was my doom to err with one
In every look so like to thee, That, oh! beneath the blessed sun,
So fair there are but thou and she!
Whate'er may be her angel birth,
She was thy lovely perfect twin, And wore the only shape on earth
That could have charm'd my soul to sin!
I cannot warn thee! every touch,
That brings my pulses close to thine, Tells me I want thy aid as much,
Oh! quite as much, as thou dost mine! Yet stay, dear love-one effort yet
A moment turn those eyes away,
That our hearts bear one common seal,Oh, lady! think, how man's deceit
Can seem to sigh and feign to feel! When o'er thy face some gleam of thought,
Like day-beams through the morning air, Hath gradual stole, and I have caught
The feeling cre it kindled there : The sympathy I then betray'd,
Perhaps was but the child of art; The guile of one who long hath play'd
With all these wily nets of heart. Oh! thou hast not my virgin vow!
Though few the years I yet have told, Canst thou believe I lived till now
With loveless heart or senses cold? No-many a throb of bliss and pain,
For many a maid, my soul hath proved; With some I wanton'd wild and vain,
While some I truly, dearly loved ! The cheek to thine I fondly lay,
To theirs hath been as fondly laid; The words to thee I warmly say,
To them have been as warmly said. Then scorn at once a languid heart,
Which long hath lost its carly spring; Think of the pure bright soul thou art,
And-keep the ring, oh! keep the ring. Enough-now, turn thine eyes again;
What, still that look and still that sigh! Dost thou not feel my counsel then?
Oh! no, beloved !-nor do I. While thus to mine thy bosom lies,
While thus our breaths commingling glow, "T were more than woman to be wise,
"T were more than man to wish thee so! Did we not love so true, so dear,
This lapse could never be forgiven; But hearts so fond and lips so near
Give me the ring, and now-Oh heaven!
Your eyes!—the eyes of languid doves
Were never half so like each other! The glances of the baby loves
Resemble less their warm-eyed mother!
Her lip!-oh, call me not false-hearted,
When such a lip I fondly press'd; 'T was Love some melting cherry parted,
Gave thee one half and her the rest!
And when, with all thy murmuring tone,
They sued, half open, to be kiss'd, I could as soon resist thine own
And thiem, Heaven knows! I ne'er resist.
Then, scorn me not, though false I be,
'T was love that waked the dear excess; My heart had been more true to thee,
Had mine eye prized thy beauty less!
TO When I loved
I can't but allow I had many an exquisite minute; But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it! Thus, whether we 're on or we're off,
Some witchery seems to await you; To love you is pleasant enough,
And, oh! 't is delicious to hate you!
ON SEEING DER WITI A WHITE VEIL AND A RICH GIRDLE.
Μαργαριται δηλουσι δακρυων ροον. .
Ap. Nicephor, in Oneirocritico.
Put off the vestal veil, nor, oh!
Let weeping angels view it; Your checks belic its virgin snow,
And blush repenting through it.
FROM THE GREEK OF MELEAGER.'
And speak my Heliodora's name!
The loving rose-bud drops a tear, To see the nymph no longer here, No longer, where she used to lie, Close to my heart's devoted sigh!
WRITTEN IN A STORM AT SEA.
Taat sky of clouds is not the sky
Of her he loves-
That rapture moves.
In this dark hour,
To Julia's bower.
If there be climes where never yet
cheek or radiant eye Should bring no more their bliss, their pain, Or fetter me to earth again! Dear absent girl! whose eyes of light,
Though little prized when all my own,
As when they first enamouring shone!
victim hours !
Oh! there's a holy calm profound
To rapture's thrill; "T is as a solemn voice from heaven, And the soul, listening to the sound,
Lies mute and still!
'T is true, it talks of danger nigh, Of slumbering with the dead to-morrow
In the cold deep, Where pleasure's throb or tears of sorrow No more shall wake the heart or eye,
But all must sleep!
Say, Nea dear! couldst thou, like her,
Endearing still, reproaching never,
And be thy own more fix'd than ever? No, no-on earth there's only one
Could bind such faithless folly fast: And sure on earth 't is I alone
Could make such virtue false at last!
Well !--- there are some, thou stormy bed,
Oh! most to him
Round misery's brim.
Yes-he can smile serene at death:
Of friends who love him ;
No more shall move him.
Nea! the heart which she forsook,
For thee were but a worthless shrineGo, lovely girl, that angel look
Must thrill a soul more pure than mine. Oh! thou shalt be all else to me,
That heart can feel or tongue can fcigo; I'll praise, admire, and worship thee,
But must not, dare not, love again.
Tale iter omne cave.
PROPERT. lib. iv, eleg, 8.
Και μου τον βρεχθεντα μυρους και χθιζον εοντα,
%, Μναμοσυνον καινας, αμφιτιθει ςεφανον: Δακρυει φιλεραςον ιου ροδον, oύνεκα κειναν Αλλοθι κου κολποις ημετέροις εσορα.
. BRUNCK, Analect. tom. i.
I PRAY you, let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore,
Where late we thoughtless stray'd ; "Twas not for us, whom Heaven intends To be no more than simple friends,
Such lonely walks were made.
That little bay where, winding in From Ocean's rude and angry din
(As lovers steal to bliss), The billows kiss the shore, and then Flow calmly to the deep again,
As though they did not kiss !
With smiling eyes, that little thought
How fatal were the beams they threw, My trembling hands you lightly caught,
And round me, like a spirit, flew. Heedless of all, I wildly turn'd,
My soul forgot-nor, oh! condemn, That when such eyes before me burn'd,
My soul forgot all eyes but them! I dared to speak in sobs of bliss,
Rapture of every thought bereft me, I would have clasp'd you—oh, even this!
But, with a bound, you blushing left me. Forget, forget that night's offence,
Forgive it, if, alas! you can, 'T was love, 't was passion-soul and sense
"T was all the best and worst of man!
Remember, o'er its circling flood
The silent sea before us,
No eye but Nature's o'er us !
I saw you blush, you felt me tremble,
All that we wish'd and thought; 'T was more than tongue could dare reveal, "T was more than virtue ought to feel,
But all that passion ought!
That moment did the mingled cyes
Of heaven and earth my madness view,
But you alone, but only you!
Myriads of eyes to me were none;
My life! what should I not have done?
I stoop'd to cull, with faltering hand, A shell that, on the golden sand,
Before us faintly gleam'd; I raised it to your lips of dew, You kiss'd the shell, I kissd it too
Good Heaven! how sweet it seem'd!
Oh! trust me, 't was a place, an hour, The worst that e'er temptation's power
Could tangle me or you in! Sweet Nea! let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore,
Such walks will be our ruin !
A DREAM OF ANTIQUITY. I just had turn'd the classic page,
And traced that happy period over, When love could warm the proudest sige,
And wisdom grace the tenderest lover! Before I laid me down to sleep,
Upon the bank awhile I stood,
Her tears of light on Ariel's flood.
Were lighted by a Grecian sky-
That yet was warm with Sappho's sigh!
You read it in my languid eyes,
And there alone should love be read; You hear me say it all in sighs,
And thus alone should love be said.
Then dread no more; I will not speak;
Although my heart to anguish thrill, I'll spare the burning of your cheek,
And look it all in silence still!
Heard you the wish I dared to name,
To murmur on that luckless night, When passion broke the bonds of shame,
And love grew madness in your sight?
And now the downy hand of rest
To polish Virtue's native brightness,
Can give to pearls a smoother whiteness! »
Divinely through the graceful dance
You seem d to float in silent song, Bending to earth that beamy glance,
As if to light your steps along !
Oh! how could others dare to touch
That hallow'd form with band so free, When but to look was bliss too much,
Too rare for all but Heaven and me!
"GASSENPI thioks that the gardens which Pausanias mentions, in his first Book, were those of Epicurus: and STCant says, in bis Anrquities of Athens, « Near this convent (the convent of Hagios Assomatos) is the place called at present Kepoi, or the Gardens; and Ampelos K pos, or the Vineyard Garden : these were probably the gardens which Pausanias visited. -Chap. ii, vol. 1.
• This method of polishing pearls, by leaving them awhile to be played with by doves, is mentioned by the fanciful CARDANUS, de Rerun Varietai. lib. vii, cap. 34.
'T was one of those delicious nights
And showing limbs, as loth to show,
Through many a thin Tarentian fold, '
Glided along the festal ring
all respiring spring, And thou wert there, my own beloved !
Where roses lay, in languor breathing, And dearly by thy side I roved
And the young bee-grape, 2 round them wreathing, Through many a temple's reverend gloom,
Hung on their blushes warm and meek,
Like curls upon a rosy check!
Oh, Nea! why did morning break
The spell that so divinely bound me?
Why did I wake ? how could I wake,
With thee my own and Heaven around me!
Well-peace to thy heart, though another's it be,
And health to thy cheek, though it bloom not for me! Where all that bard has ever dream'd
To-morrow, I sail for those cinnamon groves,
Where nightly the ghost of the Carribec roves,
ind, far from thine eye, oh! perhaps, I may yet Along the alley's deepening green,
Its seduction forgive and its splendour forget! Soft lamps, that hung like burning flowers,
Farewell to Bermuda, 3 and long may the bloom And scented and illumed the bowers
Of the lemon and myrtle its valleys perfume; Seem'd, as to him, who darkling roves
May spring to eternity hallow the shade, Amid the lone Hercynian groves,
Where Ariel has warbled and Waller 4 has stray'd ! Appear the countless birds of light,
And thou—when, at dawn, thou shalt happen to roam That sparkle in the leaves at night,
Through the lime-cover'd alley that leads to thy home, And from their wings diffuse a ray
Where oft, when the dance and the revel were done, Along the traveller's weary way!'
And the stars were beginning to fade in the sun, 'T was light of that mysterious kind,
I have led thee along, and have told by the way
heart all the night had been burning to say, When it has left this world behind,
Oh! think of the past-give a sigh to those times,
And a blessing for me to that alley of limes !
Like any blooming soul of bliss,
If I were yonder wave, my dear,
And thou the isle it clasps around,
I would not let a foot come near
My land of bliss, my fairy ground!
If I were yonder couch of gold,
And thou the pearl within it placed,
I would not let an eye behold
The sacred gem my arms embraced !
πεδαι Θαιδος και Αριςαγορας και Λαιδος φαρμακα. Some flew, with amber cups, around,
. Philstr. epist. xl. Lecran 100 tells of the 6927 LOLILOFAXOVtis. Shedding the flowery wines of Crete, 3
See bis Amores, wbere be describes the dressing-room of a Grecian And, as they pass'd with youthful bound,
lady, and we find the - silver vase,, the rouge, the tooth-powder, The onyx shone beneath their feet! 4
and all tbe - mystic order - of a modern toilet. While others, waving arms of snow
• Ταραντινιδιον, διαφανες ενδυμα, ωνομασμενον απο
της Ταραντινων χρησεως και τρυφης.-Pollur. . Entwined by snakes of burnish'd gold, 5
* Apiana, mentioned by Puist, lib. xiv, add . Dow called the Mus
catell (a muscarum telis),- says PANCIROLIUS, book 1, sect. 1, chap.17. • In Hercynio Germaniæ saltu inusitata genera alitum accepimus, mooda. See the commentators on the words e still-ver'd Bermoothes,
3 The inhabitants pronounce the name as if it were written Berquarum pluma, iguium modo, collaceant noctibus. -Plin. lib. x,
in the Tempesi. I wonder it did not occur to some of those allcap. 47. * The Milesiacs, or Milesian fables, had their origin in Miletus, a
reading gentlemen that, possibly, the discoverer of this island of
bogs and devils - might have been no less a personage that the great luxurious town of lonia, Aristides was the most colebrated author
Jobo Bermudez, wbo, about the same period (the beginning of the of these licentious fictions. See Plutarcu (in Crasso), who calls them ακολαςα βιβλια.
sixteenth centary), was sent Patriarch of tbe Latin Church to Ethio
pia, and has left us most wonderful stories of the Amazons and the 3 . Some of the Cretan wines, which Athenæus calls Olvos av.900- 1 Griffios which he encountered. - Travels of the Jesuils, vol. i. I am p.lzs, from their fragrancy resemsling that of the finest flowers.. afraid, however, it would take tbe Patriarch rather too much out of -BARRY on Wines, cbap. vii.
* It appears that, in very splendid mansions, the poor or pavement 4 Jonssox does not think that Waller was ever at Bermuda; but was frequently of onyx. Thus MARTIAL: Calcatusque tuo sub pede ibe Account of the European Seulements in America affirms it conlucet ouyx..-Epig. 5o, lib. xii.
fidently. (Vol.ii.) I mention this work, bowever, less for its av" Bracelets of this shape were a favourite ornament among the bority, than for the pleasure I feel in quoting an unachnowledged women of antiquity. οι επικαρπιοι οφεις και αι χρυσαι | production of the great Edmund Barke.