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 early 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, 'Twere more than woman, to be wise, "Twere 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!

ON SEEING HER WITH 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 cheeks belie its virgin snow,
And blush repenting through it.

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.

THE RESEMBLANCE.

vo cercand' io

Donna, quant' e possibile, in altrui
La desiata vostra forma vera.

PETRARC. Sonett. 14.

YES, if 'twere any common love

That led my pliant heart astray,
I grant, there's not a power above
Could wipe the faithless crime away!

But, 'twas my doom to err with one
In every look so like to thee,
That, oh! beneath the blessed su n,

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!

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;

'Twas 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 them, Heaven knows! I ne'er resist.

Then, scorn me not, though false I be,
"Twas love that waked the dear excess ;
My heart had been more true to thee,
Had mine eye prized thy beauty less!

ΤΟ

WHEN I loved you, 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! 'tis delicious to hate you!

FROM THE GREEK OF MELEAGER.*

FILL high the cup with liquid flame,
And speak my HELIODORA'S name!

Repeat its magic o'er and o'er,

And let the sound my lips adore,
Sweeten the breeze, and mingling swim
On every bowl's voluptuous brim !

Give me the wreath that withers there,
It was but last delicious night

It hung upon her wavy hair,

And caught her eyes' reflected light!
Oh! haste, and twine it round my brow;
It breathes of HELIODORA now!

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!

*

Εγχει, και παλιν ειπε, παλιν, παλιν, Ηλιοδώρας
Ειπε, συν ακρητω το γλυκυ μισή ονομα
Και μοι τον βρεχθεντα μυροις και χθιζον εοντα,
Μναμοσυνον κείνας, αμφιτίθει σεφανον
Δακρύει Φιλεςατον ιδε ροδον, ἕνεκα κειναν
Αλλοθι κ'ς κολποις ημετεροις εσορά.

BRUNCK. Analect. tom. i. p. 28.