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ON SEEING AN INFANT IN NEA'S ARMS.
The first ambrosial child of bliss

That Psyche to her bosom press'd,
Was not a brighter babe than this,

Nor blush'd upon a lovelier breast !
His little snow-white fingers, straying

Along her lip's luxuriant flower,
Look'd like a flight of ring-doves playing,

Silvery through a roseate bower!
And when, to shade the playful boy,

Her dark hair fell, in mazes bright,
Referunt tamen quidam in interiore India avem esse, nomine
Semeadam, etc. CARDAN, 10 de Subtilitat. CESAR SCALIGER seems
to think Semenda but another name for the Phæuix. Exercitat. 233.

I stole along the flowery bank,
While many a bending sca-grape' drar
The sprinkle of the feathery oar
That wing'd me round this fairy short!

'T was noon; and every orange bud

Hung languid o'er the crystal flood, ! The sea-side or mangrove grape, a native of the West Indies.

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As if 't were done in rapture's mint,

Thou ne'er hast bid a ringlet shine, And Love himself had stamp'd the form!

Nor given thy locks one graceful twine,

Which I remember not!
Oh, Nea! Nea! where wert thou !
In pity fly not thus from me;

There never yet a murmur fell
Thou art my life, my essence now,

From that beguiling tongue,
And my soul dies of wanting thee!

Which did not, with a lingering spell,
Upon my charmed senses dwell,

Like something Heaven had sung'
A KISS A L'ANTIQUE.
BEHOLD, my love, the curious gem

Ah ! that I could, at once, forget
Within this simple ring of gold ;

All, all that haunts me so"T is hallow'd by the touch of them

And yet, thou witching girl!-and yct, Who lived in classic hours of old.

To die were sweeter, than to let

The loved remembrance go!
Some fair Athenian girl, perhaps,
Upon her hand this gem display'd,

No, if this slighted heart must see
Nor thought that time's elernal lapse

Its faithful pulse decay,
Should see it grace a lovelier maid !

Oh! let it die, remembering thee,
And, like the burnt aroma,

be Look, arling, what a sweet design!

Consumed in sweets away!
The more we gaze, it charms the more :
Come,-closer bring that cheek to mine,
And trace with me iis beauties o'er.

EPISTLE V.
Thou seest, it is a simple youth

TO JOSEPHI ATKINSON, ESQ. By some enamour'd nymph embraced

FROM BERMUDA. I Look, Nea, love! and say, in sooth,

March Is not her hand most dearly placed ?

• The daylight is gone-but before wc depart, Upon his curled head behind

One cup shall go round to the friend of my heart,
It seems in careless play to lie,'
Yet presses gently, half inclined

PINKERTOX has said that on gool history and description of the To bring his lip of nectar nigh!

Bermudas might afford a pleasing addition 10 the geographical Drary ;- but there certainly are not materials for such a work, The

island, since the time of its discovery, has experienced so very few Oh happy maid ! too happy boy!

vicissitudes, the people have been so indolent, and their trade soliThe one so fond and faintly loth,

mited, that there is but little which the historian could amplify into The other yielding slow to joy

importance; and, with respect to the natural productions of the Oh, rare indeed, but blissful both!

country, the few which the inhabitants can be induced to cultivate, are so common in the West Indies, that they bave been described by

every paturalist who has written any account of those islands. Imagine, love, that I am he,

It is often asserted by the transatlantic politicians, that this little And just as warm as he is chilling;

colony deserves more attention from the mother-country than it re. Imagine too that thou art she,

ceives, and it certainly possesses advantages of situation, to which

we should not be long insensible if it were once in the hands of an But quite as cold as she is willing :

enemy. I was told by a celebrated friend of Washington, at New

York, that they had formed a plan for its capture, towards the conSo may we try the graceful way

clusion of the American War; with the intention (as he expressed In which their gentle arms are twined,

bimself) of making it a nest of hornets for the annoyance of British

trade in that part of the world. And there is no doubt, it lies so And thus, like her, my hand I lay

fairly in the track to the West Jodies, ibat an enemy might with ease Upon thy wreathed hair behind :

con vert it into a very harassing impediment.

The plon of Bishop Berkeley for a college at Bermuda, where AmeAnd thus I feel thee breathing sweet,

rican savages might be converted and educated, though concurred

in by the government of the day, was a wild and useless speculation. As slow to mine thy head I move;

Mr Hamilton, who was governor of the island some years since, proAnd thus our lips together meet,

posed, if I mistake not, the establishment of a marine academy for And thus I kiss thee-oh, my love!

the instruction of those children of West Todians, who might be intended for any nautical employment. This was a more rational idea, and for something of this nature ibe island is admirably calculated.

But the plan should be much more extensive, and embrace a general ... λιβανοτω εικασεν, ότι απολλυμενον ευφραίνει. system of education, which would entirely remove the alternative in Aristor. Rhetor. lib. iii, cap. 4.

which the colonists are involved at present, of either sending their sons to England for instruction, or entrusting them to colleges in

the States of America, where ideas by no means favourable to Great There's not a look, a word of thine

Britain are very sedulously inculcated.
My soul bath e'er forgot ;

The women of Bermuda, though not generally handsome, have an

affectionate languor in their look and manner, which is always in"Somewhat like the symplegma of Cupid and Psyche at Florence, teresting. What the French imply by their epithet aimance seems in which the position of Psyche's hand is finely expressive of affec- very much the character of the young Bermudian girls--that predistion. See the Museum Florentinum, tom. ii, tab. 43,44. I know of position to loving, wbich, without being awakened by any particular very few subjects in which poetry could be more interestingly em- object, diffuses itself brough the general manner in a tone of teaployed, than in illustrating some of the ancient statues and gems. vorness that never fails to fascinate. The men of the island, I conTo the kindest, the dearest-ob! judge by the tear, Yet pleasant the swell of those billows would be, That I shed while I name him, how kind and how dear!. And the sound of those gales would be music to me!

Not the tranquilest air that the winds ever blew, 'T was thus, by the shade of a calabash-tree,

Not the silvery lapse of the summer-eve dew, With a few who could feel and remember like me, Were as sweet as the breeze, or as bright as the foam The charm, that to sweeten my goblet I threw,

Of the wave that would carry your wanderer home! Was a tcar to the past and a blessing on you!

LOVE AND RI

ASON.

Quand l'homme commence à raisonner, il cesse de sentir..

J.J. ROONEAC.

Oh! say, do you thus, in the luminous hour
Of wine and of wit, when the heart is in tlower
And shoots from the lip, under Bacchus's dew,
In blossoms of thought ever springing and new!
Do you sometimes remember, and hallow the brim
Of

your cup with a sigh, as you crown it to him,
Who is lonely and sad in these valleys so fair,
And would pine in Elysium, if friends were not there!

'T was in the summer-time so sweet,

When hearts and flowers are both in season, That-who, of all the world, should meet,

One early dawn, but Lore and Reason!

my

Love told his dream of yester-night,

While Reason talk'd about the weather; The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright,

And on they took their way together.

The boy in many a gambol flew,

While Reason like a Juno stalk'd,
And from her portly figure threw

A lengthen'd shadow as she walk'd.

Last night, when we came from the calabash-tree,
When limbs were at rest and my spirit was free,
The glow of the grape and the dreams of the day
Put the magical springs of my fancy in play,
And oh !-such a vision as haunted me then
I could slumber for ages to witness again!
The many I like, and the few I adore,
The friends, who were dear and beloved before,
But never till now so beloved and dear,
At the call of my fancy surrounded me here!
Soon, soon did the flattering spell of their smile
To a paradise brighten the blest little isle ;
Serener the wave, as they look'd on it, flow'd,
And warmer the rose, as they gather'd it, glow'd !
Not the valleys Heræan (though water'd by rills
Of the pearliest flow, from those pastoral hills'
Where the song of the shepherd, primeval and wild,
Was taught to the nymphs by their mystical chill,
Could display such a bloom of delight, as was given
By the magic of love to this miniature Heaven!

No wonder Love, as on they pass'd,

Should find that sunny morning chill,
For still the shadow Reason cast

Fell on the boy, and cool'd him still.

In vain he tried his wings to warm,

Or find a path-way not so dim,
For still the maid's gigantic form
Would

pass

between the sun and him!

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The dew forsook his baby brow,

No more with vivid bloom he smiled-
Oh! where was tranquil Reason now,

To cast her shadow o'er the child !

fess, are not very civilized; and the old philosopher, who imagined that, after this life, men would be changed into mules, and women into turtle doves, would find the metamorphosis in some degree anticipated at Bermuda.

Moontains of Sicily, upon which Daphnis, the first inventor of bucolic poetry, was nursed by the nymphs. See the lively description of these mountains in DIODORO Siculus, lib.iv. 'H pula 72popn κατα την Σικελιαν εςιν, ά φασι καλλει, κ. τ.λ

· A ship, ready to sail for England.

Beneath a green and aged palm,

His foot at length for shelter turning,
Quoted somewhere in ST PIERRE's Études de la Nature.

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Nay, do not weep, my Fanny dear!

While in these arms you lie,
The world hath not a wish, a fear,
That ought to claim one precious tear

From that beloved eye!
The world !-ah, Fanny! Love must shun

The path where many rove; One bosom to recline upon, Onc heart, to be his only one,

Are quite enough for Love!

χι τε καλος Πυθαγορης, οσσοι τε χορον στηριξαν ερωτος. AROC Trepi lwtivou. Oracul. Melric.

a Joan. Opsop. collecta.

What can we wish, that is not here

Between your arms and mine? Is there on earth a space so dear, As that within the blessed sphere

Two loving arms entwine?

For me, there's not a lock of jet

Along your temples curld, Within whose glossy, tangling net, My soul doth not, at once, forget

All, all the worthless world!

Was it the moon, or was it morning's ray,
That call'd thee, dearest, from these arms away?
I linger'd still, in all the murmuring rest,
The languor of a soul too richly blest!
Upon my breath thy sigh yet faintly hung;
Thy name yet died in whispers o'er my tongue;
I heard thy lyre, which thou hadst left behind,
In amorous converse with the breathing wind;
Quick to my heart I press'd the shell divine,
And, with a lip yet glowing warm from thine,
I kiss'd its every chord, while every kiss
Shed o'er the chord some dewy print of bliss.
Then soft to thee I touch'd the fervid lyre,
Which told such melodies, such notes of fire,
As none but chords that drank the burning dews
Of kisses dear as ours could e'er diffuse!
Oh love! how blissful is the bland repose
That soothing follows upon rapture's close,
Like a soft twilight, o'er the mind to shed
Mild melting traces of the transport fled!

'T is in your eyes, my sweetest love!

My only worlds I see; Let but their orbs in sunshine move, And earth below and skies above

Nay frown or smile for me!

ASPASIA.

'T was in the fair Aspasia's hower,
That Love and Learning many an hour
In dalliance met, and Learning smiled
With rapture on the playful child,
Who wanton stole to find his nest
Within a fold of Learning's vest!

While thus I lay, in this voluptuous calm,
A drowsy languor steep'd my eyes in balm;
Upon my lap the lyre in murmurs fell,
While, faintly wandering o'er its silver shell,
My fingers soon their own sweet requiem play'd,
And slept in music which themselves had made!
Then, then, my Theon, what a heavenly dream!
I saw two spirits on the lunar beam,
Two winged boys, descending from above,
And gliding to my bower with looks of love,
Like the young genii, who repose their wings
All day in Amatha's luxurious springs,

There, as the listening statesman hung
In transport on Aspasia's tongue,
The destinies of Athens took
Their colour from Aspasia's look.
O happy time! when laws of state,
When all that ruled the country's fate,
Its glory, quiet, or alarms,
Was plann'd between two snowy arms!

" It was imagined by some of the ancients that there is an ethereal ocean above us, and that the sun and moon are two floating luminous islands, in which ibe spirits of the blessed reside. Accordingly, wo find that the word Oxsavos was sometimes synonymous with αηρ, and death was not unfrequently called Ωκεανοιo πορος, or the passage of the ocean..

: Ecsapies, in his Life of Jamblichus, tells us of two beautiful little spirits or loves, which Jamblicbus raised by enchantment from

Sweet times! you could not always lastAnd yet, oh! yet, you are not past;

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