When sinking low the sufferer wan CATHERINE ORKNEY. CHARLES LAMB. Canadia! boast no more the toils To brighter Catherine Orkney. That such a flower should ever burst From climes with rigorous winter curst !- We envy not your proud display Your greatest pride we've borne away, How spared you Catherine Orkney? That Wolfe on Heights of Abraham fell, With rearing Catherine Orkney. O Britain, guard with tenderest care The charge allotted to your share : You've scarce a native maid so fair, So good, as Catherine Orkney. LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. Born 1792-Died 1822. The fountains mingle with the river, Nothing in the world is single; See the mountains kiss high Heaven, And the waves clasp one another! No leaf or flower would be forgiven, If it disdain'd to kiss its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea; What are all those kissings worth, If thou kiss not me? LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR, P. B. SHELLEY. I rise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I rise from dreams of thee, And a Spirit in my feet Has led me--who knows how? The wandering airs they faint Like sweet thoughts in a dream. O lift me from the grass! On my lips and eyelids pale. My heart beats loud and fast; Oh! press it close to thine again, Where it will break at last. TO ELLEN. ROBERT SOUTHEY. Though time has not wreathed The eyes which behold thee, Their brightness is flown; The arms which enfold thee, Enfeebled are grown : And friendship hath left me, By fortune estranged; All, all is bereft me, For thou, too, art changed! Yes, dark ills have clouded By ripening years, Life's path wild and dreary, The world shall caress thee When I cease to be; And suns rise to bless thee AN ITALIAN SONG. SAMUEL ROGERS. Dear is my little native vale, The ring-dove builds and murmurs there, Close by my cot she tells her tale To every passing villager. The squirrel leaps from tree to tree, In orange-groves and myrtle bowers, The shepherd's horn at break of day, Sung in the silent green-wood shade; |