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PASSA I C:
POEMS TOUCHING THAT
Oh could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
BEAUTY: OR, A LOVER'S JOURNAL.
! Jamais, Jamais, je ne serai aime comme j'aime!'
Five times the earth swam round the sun,
For then the heart's door stands ajar,
gleam, Drowned roses through a crystal stream. But oh! those eyes, those wondrous eyes ! Whose hue all mimic art defies :
'Tis flowery land; but oh! beware!
praise A thousand grateful voices raise, The heart unfolds its portals wide, Unconsciously, to join the tide: Whatever passion opes the door, Love, ever watchful, stands before, Still seeking, in his strife to win, Sly rogue! to slip unnoticed in. I caution others; as for me, My heart once seared, is safely free : Yet thrilled I when her eyes like day Would rest on mine though turned away; For there are glances felt, not seen, That burn as deep, and pierce as keen. To-morrow I can meet her too — A walking party; shall I go, And stir the tide now calmly clear? Pshaw ! nonsense! what have I to fear ? The scars of previous wounds o'ergrow, And make my bosom love-proof now!
their tint by nature given, But which through smiles seemed blue as
heaven; And when a frown-cloud rose to view, Black as the car of thunder grew : And wide and various as their hue Would wander their expression too; Which all unsteady in its range, Seemed ever on the brink of change; Still ready, even in anger's stress, To tremble into tenderness. Oh! she was glorious in a storm! The lofty head, the heaving form, The flash, the nostrils futtering free, All, all were fine yet dread to see: And brilliant feil ihe glittering rain That followed in the cloudy train, And fairer still the peaceful bow That spanned at last her arching brow. Though spoiled with pride and wayward
Else had I never learned to love,
wound, For even the church is dangerous ground, When placed athwart a vision fair, Just seated within eye-shot there : In neatest dress, with bonnet sweet, Flung loose to chase the summer heat, Leaving the glowing charms we see, To wooing winds, and glances free: While airs which fanning feathers make, To waves the slumbering tresses wake; And looks, meant for the desk, may stray And light on you along their way.
A truce to your arts, pretty maidens!
Your cunning I now can withstand : No more bite the lip till it reddens,
Nor press the pale cheek with the hands I know what a bloom it discloses,
But ah! ye entice me in vain ;
They never shall tempt me again.
No more hang your long drooping lashes,
So modestly bent to the ground; No more with a start shoot your flashes
So boldly and brilliantly round: I know that the motion is brightening,
But ah! it assails me in vain; My heart is so scarred with the lightning,
Ít shuns the encounter again.
III. No more, when the summer oppresses,
Uncover the light of the brow; No more let the streams of your tresses
Run down on your shoulders of snow : I know that the contrast is pleasing,
But ah! it allures me in vain; I've suffered so sadly from freezing
I'll ne'er brave the snow-storm again
So close we grouped that tree beneath,
Over the hills, a sun-bright day,
brings, To one of Nature's bounties, springs : Here sit we down for rest and breath, A knotty, spreading oak beneath, Whose roots drank from the fount, and
Returning, would her arm recline,
From Julia's side I kept aloof,
Hence, Love! thou tempting friend, be
gone! That still through flower-fields lead'st me Whose serpent-charm my bosom draws To venomed ruin in its jaws : I'll shun her, for it cannot be Such eyes could ever smile on me; Nor wake those passion-waves again, To rack my heart with sickening pain : Yet sweetly could I yield me still, With closing eyes and passive will, In ravishing delight to ride Upon that bounding, sparkling tide, Borne onward by the mastering flood, To port or breakers, where it would !
O'er heaven now warning vapors dun Crept darkling, and put out the sun: Wrangled the clouds, and fell the fire, Struck from their rude collision, nigher. Escaping from the shower, we reach The sheltering tent of sloping beach : There gathered close, we list the strain Played on the leaves by pattering rain, At times by voice of thunder drowned, When his tremendous bass rings round.
It must not be; no ! from this hour I'll save me, while I have the power :
Yet I this very night agreed
August 30. Fool! madman! thus to venture nigh The whirlpool of her dangerous
eye : I reached the door : herself was there; Herself, with smiles all radiant fair : She bade me enter : I declined; Then stammering, stagger'd in half-blind. There to the window we withdrew; Oh, double fool ! by moonlight too: Deep, deep of love's insidious draught, With reckless, quenchless thirst I quaffed, Till midnight drove me home again, So drunken, giddy, fired in brain, That my bewildered, reeling head Could scarcely find its sleepless bed.
September 2. 'T was not, dear maid ! thy noontide light That won me with its flashings bright; But thy sweet twilight hue that shone Softly on me, and me alone! 'T was not thy song of music clear, That rings to ravish all that hear; But oh! thy gently breathing tone Murmured to me and me alone! All force, all dazzling, fails to move, For softness is the soul of love.
Softness, sure though gentle power,
Even the rudest breast can sway: As the mildly-dropping shower
Wears the rigid ice away. Cupid knows, so binds together
Plume with barb upon his dart, Never shaft without the feather
Found the quick within the heart : All the ways of passion prove Softness is the soul of love.
Words that win, come softly flowing,
Like the lulling song of streams. Vows of love and truth devoted,
Vainly at the bosom cast,
Ever reach their port at last !
vain! I'll quaff the luscious poison now, And leave to sober hours the pain!
September 6. I WENT ; fair crowds my sight surprise : The room was starry with their eyes; But she was all surpassing fair : One calla-flower ran round her hair, And wreathed it like a hunter's horn : The chaste, the only jewel worn. Pure was her robe of virgin white, Her eyes flashed round consuming light; Yet oft on those she favored well, Softly as mellow moonlight feil. But scarce a solitary glance Would light on me, unless by chance Amid the flood she showered around, Some straggling ray my features found, And brilliant shone; but cold to me As flash of phosphorescent sea : Alas! those eyes with homage vain, On others showered their sparkling rain. Supreme my rival stood ʼmid these, Nor left untried all arts to please; She sang -- his voice the praise supplied : She danced — and he was by her side In pride of form and grace of limb : What could I do to cope with him ? Hurt at the sight, but not depressed, For trial roused, not sunk my breast; I sought her hand when he resigned, But she through feigned fatigue declined : I told her, stung, I craved no more Than others had received before : Piqued, she replied all proudly then, She danced with whom she pleased, and
when : Rushed to my brow the burning blood – Fired with revenge and shame I stood One maddening moment, then withdrew, And to the open garden flew : How changed the scene to which I fled ! Cool was the night-air to my head;
The moon sailed high, and flowers and
September 7. OE's thy bosom's trackless snow
Love's light foot has never trod; And should he once essay to go,
Its cold would freeze the little god. Fool! fool! with all my previous pain, To rush into the trap again, But now, farewell to love and thee! The world has nobler aims for me : Enough, enough; henceforth we partI'll close my journal, and my heart; Resolved no more to be beguiled By such a wayward, peevish child.
September 14. IN vain ! - six days of bitter pain Have driven me back to love again : Despite my stern resolve to burst A bond so sweet, yet so accursed. Alas ! our eyes at church did meet ; Oh! glance too ravishingly sweet! My soul leaped to my eyes to see One gaze
of kindness bent on me : It told of sorrow for my pain It told of wish for peace again ; It told beside of pride misused That eyes might speak what lips refused.
I must return — though doubly curst; Though all thy lightnings scathe my
brain, I care not - I have known the worst For absence owns no master-pain.
September 15. With a cold eye, and burning brain, I stiffly sought her doors again: My presence smiles of favor sweet, And kindly words resistless greet; And though our quarrel and my pain She ventured not to touch,'t was plain She saw, and strove with smiles io heal The wounds her pride had made me feel : She begged me join, in her sweet way, A party for the Falls to-day : And did I yield ? oh! yes oh! yes! She smiled, and could I then do less ? Dear eyes! be cruel as ye will, One kindly gaze secures me still!
It told enough to bring me back ;
Oh! in reason's spite I love thee, Though thy sweets be mixed with woes : Who, though teasing be the briar,
Would not bear it for the rose ? When with scorn thy lip is curling,
'Till, revolting at the chill,, Pride would bid me love no longer,
One dear smile will win me still.