Of purpled madmen, were they number'd all
From Roman Nero down to Russian Paul,
Could grate upon my ear so mean, so base,
As the rank jargon of that factious race,
Who poor of heart and prodigal of words,
Born to be slaves and 'struggling to be lords,
But pant for licence, while they spurn
control,
And shout for rights, with rapine in their soul!
Who can, with patience, for a moment see
The medley mass of pride and misery,
.Of whips and charters, manacles and rights,
Of slaving blacks and democratic whites,*
And all the pye-bald polity that reigns
In free confusion o'er Columbia's plains?
To think that man, thou just and gentle God!
Should stand before thee, with a tyrant's rod
O'er creatures like himself, with soul from
thee,
Yet dare to boast of perfect liberty;
Away, away-I'd rather hold my neck
By doubtful tenure from a sultan's beck,
*Th Virginia the effects of this system begin to be felt rather seriously. While the master raves of liberty, the slave cannot but catch the contagion, and accordingly there seldom elapses a month without some alarin of insurrection amongst the negroes. The accession of Louisiana, it is feared, will increase this embarrasment; as the numerous emigrations, which are expected to take place from the southern states to this newly acquired territory, will considerably diminish the white population, and thus strengthen the proportion of negroes to a degree which must ultimately be ruinous.
In climes, where liberty has scarce been
Nor any right but that of ruling claim'd Than thus to live, when bastard freedom
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves;
Where (motley laws admitting no degree
Betwixt the lively slav'd and madly free)
Alike the bondage and the licence suit,
The brute made ruler and the man made brute!
But, oh my FORBES! while thus, in flowerless song,
I feebly paint, what yet I feel so strong,
The ills, the voices of the land, where first
Those rebei fiends, that rack the world, were
nurst!
Where treason's arm by royalty was nerv'd, And Frenchmen learn'd to crush the throne they serv'd
Thou gently lull'd in dreams of classic thought,
By bards illumin'd and by sages taught,
Pant'st to be all upon this mortal scene,
That bard hath fancied or that sage hath been!
Why should I wake thee? why severely chace
The lovely forms of virtue and of grace,
That dwell before thee, like the pictures
spread
By Spartan matrons round the genial bed,
Moulding thy fancy, and with gradual art Brightening the young conceptions of thy
Forgive me FORBES-and should the song destroy
One generous hope, one throb of social joy, One high pulsation of the zeal for man,
Which few can feel, and blest that few who can !
Oh! turn to him, beneath whose kindred eyes
Thy talents open and thy virtues rise,
Forget where nature has been dark or dim,
And proudly study all her lights in him!
Yes, yes, in him the erring world forget,
And feel that man may reach perfection yet!
THE wreath you wove, the wreath you wove Is fair-but oh! how fair,
If pity's hand had stolen from love
One leaf to mingle there!
If every rose with gold were tied,
Did gems for dew-drops fall,
One faded leaf where love had sigh'd
Were sweetly worth them all!
The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove
Our emblem well may be;
Its bloom is yours, but hopeless love
Must keep its tears for me!
CHE CON LE LOR BUGIE PAJON DIVINI.
I DO confess, in many a sigh,
My lips have breath'd you many a lie,
And who with such delights in view,
Would lose them, for a lie or two?
Nay-look not thus, with brow reproving;
Lies are, my dear, the soul of loving!
If half we tell the girls were true,
If half we swear to think and do,
Were aught but lying's bright illusion,
The world would be in strange confusion!
If ladies' eyes were, every one,
As lovers swear, a radiant sun,
Astronomy should leave the skies,
To learn her lore in ladies' eyes!
Oh no!-believe me, lovely girl,
When nature turns your teeth to pearl,
Your neck to snow, your eyes to fire,
Your yellow locks to golden wire,
Then, only then can heaven decree,
That you should live for only me,
Or I for you, as night and morn,
We've swearing kist, and kissing sworn!
And now, my gentle hints to clear,
For once, I'll tell you truth, my dear!
Whenever you may chance to meet
A loving youth, whose love is sweet,
Long as you're false and he believes you,
Long as you trust and he deceives you,
So long the blissful bond endures;
And while he lies, his heart is yours:
But, oh! you've wholly lost the youth
The instant that he tells you truth!
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