I should not like the gloss were past,
Yet want it not entirely new ;
But bright and strong enough to last
About-suppose a week or two.

However frail, however light,
"Twill do, at least, to wear at night :
And so you'll tell our black-eyed Caty-
The loving, languid girl of Hayti!

“Errare malo cum Platone, quam cum aliis rectè sentire.”

CICERO.

I would rather think wrongly with Plato, than rightly with any one else.

FANNY, my love, we ne'er were sages,
But, trust me, all that Tully's zeal
Express'd for Plato's glowing pages,
All that, and more, for thee I feel!

Whate'er the heartless world decree,
Howe'er unfeeling prudes condemn,
Fanny! I'd rather sin with thee,

Than live and die a saint with them!

1802.

SONG.

I NE'ER on that lip for a minute have gazed,
But a thousand temptations beset me,

And I've thought, as the dear little rubies you raised,

How delicious 'twould be-if you'd let me!

Then be not so angry for what I have done,
Nor say that you've sworn to forget me';

They were buds of temptation too pouting to shun,
And I thought that-you could not but let me !

When your lip with a whisper came close to my cheek,

Oh think how bewitching it met me!

And, plain as the eye of a Venus could speak,
Your eye seem'd to say-you would let me !

Then forgive the transgression, and bid me remain,
For, in truth, if I go, you'll regret me ;
Or, oh!-let me try the transgression again,
And I'll do all you wish-will you let me?

FROM THE GREEK.*

I've pressed her bosom oft and oft ;
In spite of many a pouting check,
Have touch'd her lip in dalliance soft,
And play'd around her silvery neck.

But, as for more, the maid's so coy,

That saints or angels might have seen us; She's now for prudence, now for joy, Minerva half, and half a Venus.

When Venus makes her bless me near,
Why then, Minerva makes her loth ;
Andoh the sweet, tormenting dear!

She makes me mad between them both!

* Μάζες χερσιν εχω, στοματι στομα, δε περι δειρην

Ασχετα λυσσωων βοσκομαι αργυρέην

Ούπω δ' αφρογενειαν ὁλην ἑλον· αλλ' ετι καμνων

Παρθενον αμφιεπον λεκρον αναινομενην.

Ήμισυ γαρ. Παφίη, το δ' αρ ημισυ δωκεν Αθήνη
Αυταρ εγω μεσσός τηκομαι αμφοτερων.

PAULUS SILENTIARIUS.

ON A BEAUTIFUL EAST-INDIAN.

IF all the daughters of the sun

Have loving looks and hearts of flame, Go, tell me not that she is one

"Twas from the wintry moon she came!

And yet, sweet eye! thou ne'er wert given
To kindle what thou dost not feel;
And yet, thou flushing lip-by Heaven!
Thou ne'er wert made for Dian's seal!

Oh! for a sunbeam, rich and warm
From thy own Ganges' fervid haunts,
To light thee up, thou lovely form!
To all my soul adores and wants :

To see thee burn-to faint and sigh
Upon that bosom as it blazed,
And be, myself, the first to die,

Amid the flame myself had raised!

ΤΟ

I KNOW that none can smile like thee,
But there is one, a gentler one,

Whose heart, though young and wild it be,
Would ne'er have done as thine has done.

When we were left alone to-day,

When every curious eye was fled, And all that love could look oṛ say,

We might have look'd, we might have said :

Would she have felt me trembling press,
Nor trembling press to me again?
Would she have had the power to bless,
Yet want the heart to bless me then?

Her tresses, too, as soft as thine—
Would she have idly paused to twine
Their scatter'd locks, with cold delay,
While, oh! such minutes pass'd away,
As Heaven has made for those who love?
For those who love, and long to steal
What none but hearts of ice reprove,
What none but hearts of fire can feel!