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Would that breast, by thee glanced over,

“ IIonest-honest lago I

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee." Every inmost thought could show!

Shakspeare Then thou would'st at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so.

Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,

Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head; Though the world for this commend thee Next--for some gracious service unexprest, Though it smile upon the blow,

And from its wages only to be guess'd Even its praises must offend thee,

Raised from the toilet to the table,—where Founded on another's wo

Her wondering betters wait behind her chair.

With eye unmoved, and forehead unabash’d, Though my many faults defaced me, She dines from off the plate she lately wash’d. Could no other arm be found,

Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie-
Than the one which once embraced me, The genial confidante, and general spy~
To inflict a cureless wound ?

Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess

An only infant's earliest governess! Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not;

She taught the child to read, and taught so well, Love may sink by slow decay,

That she herself, by teaching, learn’d to spell. But by sudden wrench, believe not

An adept next in penmanship she grows, Hearts can thus be torn away:

As many a nameless slander deftly shows :

What she had made the pupil of her art, Still thine own its life retaineth

None know-but that high Soul secured the heart, Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And panted for the truth it could not hear, And the undying thought which paineth With longing breast and undeluded ear. Is—that we no more may meet.

Foil'd was perversion by that youthful mind,

Which Flattery fool'd not-Baseness could not blind, These are words of deeper sorrow

Deceit infect not-near Contagion soilThan the wail above the dead;

Indulgence weaken--nor Example spoilBoth shall live, but every morrow

Nor master'd Science tempt her to look down Wake us froin a widow'd bed.

On humbler talents with a pitying frown

Nor Genius swell--nor Beauty render vainAnd when thou would'st solace gather, Nor Envy ruffle to retaliate pain

When our child's first accents flow, Nor Fortune change-Pride raise-nor Passion bow Wilt thou teach her to say “Father!” Nor Virtue teach austerity--till now. Though his care she must forego ?

Serenely purest of her sex that live,

But wanting one sweet weakness-to forgive, When her little hands shail press thee, Too shock'd at faults her soul can never know, When her lip to thine is prest,

She deems that all could be like her below: Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee, Foe to all vice, yet hardly Virtue's friend, Think of him thy love had bless'd!

For Virtue pardons those she would amend.

But to the theme :-now laid aside too long,
The baleful burden of this honest song,

Should her lineaments resemble

Those thou never more may'st see Then thy heart will softly tremble

With a pulse yet true to me.

* Mrs. Charlmont.

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Though all her former functions are no more,
She rules the circle which she served before.
If mothers—none know why-before her quake;
If daughters dread her for the mothers' sake;
If early habits-those false links, which bind
At times the loftiest to the meanest mind-
Have given her power too deeply to instil
The angry essence of her deadly will ;
If like a snake she steal within your walls,
Till the black slime betray her as she crawls;
If like a viper to the heart she wind,
And leave the venom there she did not find;
What marvel that this hag of hatred works
Eternal evil latent as she lurks,
To make a Pandemonium where she dwells,
And reign the Hecate of domestic hells ?
Skill'd by a touch to deepen scandal's tints.
With all the kind mendacity of hints,
While mingling truth with falsehood-sneers with

smiles
A thread of candor with a web of wiles;
A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming,
To hide her bloodless heart's soul harden'dscheming;
A lip of lies—a face form'd to conceal;
And, without feeling, mock at all who feel :
With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown;
A cheek of parchment-and an eye of stone.
Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood
Ooze through her skin, and stagnate there to mud,
Cased like the centipede in saffron mail,
Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale
(For drawn from reptiles only may we trace.
Congenial colors in that soul or face)-
Look on her features! and behold her mind
As in a mirror of itself defined:
Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged--
There is no trait which might not be enlarged :
Yet true to "Nature's journeymen,” who made
This monster when their mistress left off trade-
This female dog-star of her little sky,
Where all beneath her influence droop or die.

Oh! blest be thine unbroken light!

That watch'd me as a seraph's eye, And stood between me and the night,

For ever shining sweetly nigh.

And when the cloud upon us came,

Which strove to blacken o’er thy rayThen purer spread its gentle flame,

And dash'd the darkness all away.

Still may thy spirit dwell on mine,

And teach it what to brave or brookThere's more in one soft word of thine

Than in the world's defied rebuke.

Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree,

That still unbroke, though gently bent, Still waves with fond fidelity

Its boughs above a monument.

The winds might rend--the skies might poi,

But there thou wert—and still would'st be Devoted in the stormiest hour

To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me.

But thou and thine shall know no blight,

Whatever fate on me may fall; For heaven in sunshine will requite

The kind-and thee the most of all.

Then let the ties of baffied love

Be broken-thine will never break; Thy heart can feel--but will not move;

Thy soul, though soft, will never shake.

Oh! wretch without a tear-without a thought,
Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought-
The time shall come, nor long remote, when thou
Shalt feel far more than thou inflictest now;
Feel for thy vile self-loving self in vain,
And turn thee howling in unpitied pain.
May the strong curse of crush'd affections light
Back on thy bosom with reflected blight!
And make thee in thy leprosy of mind
As loathsome to thyself as to mankind!
Till all thy self-thoughts curdle into hate,
Black-as thy will for others would create :
Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust,
And thy soul welter in its hideous crust.
Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed, -
The widow'd couch of fire, that thou hast spread !
Ther., when thou fain wouldst weary Heaven with

And these, when all was lost beside,

Were found and still are fix'd in the And bearing still a breast so tried,

Earth is no desert-ev'n to me.

ODE.

prayer,

[FROM THE FRENCH.]

Look on thine earthly victims-and despair !
Down to the dust !-and, as thou rott'st away,
Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay.
But for the love I bore, and still must bear,
To her thy malice from all ties would tear-
Thy name--thy human name—to every eye
The climax of all scorn should hang on high,
Exalted o'er thy less abhorr'd compeers-
And festering in the infamy of years.

We do not curse thee, Waterloo !
Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew;
There 'twas shed, but is not sunk-
Rising from each gory trunk,

* His sister, Mrs. Leigh.

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Like the water-spout from ocean,

And, as it onward rolling rose, With a strong and growing motion

So moved his heart upon our foes, It soars, and mingles in the air,

There, where death's brief pang was quickest, With that of lost LABEDOYERE

And the battle's wreck lay thickest, With that of him whose honor'd grave

Strew'd beneath the advancing banner Contains the “bravest of the brave.

Of the eagle's burning crestA crimson cloud it spreads and glows,

(There with thunder-clouds to fan her, But shall return to whence it rose;

Who could then her wing arrest When 'tis full 'twill burst asunder

Victory beaming from her breast?) Never yet was heard such thunder

While the broken line enlarging As then shah shake the world with wonder

Fell, or fled along the plain; Never yet was seen such lightning

There be sure was MURAT charging!
As o'er heaven shall then be brightning !

There he ne'er shall charge again!
Like the Wormwood Star foretold
By the sainted Seer of old,
Show'ring down a fiery flood,

O'er glories gone the invaders march,
Turning rivers into blood. *

Weeps Triumph o'er each levell’d arch-
But let Freedom rejoice,
With her heart in her voice;

But, her hand on her sword,
The Chief has fallen, but not by you,

Doubly shall she be adored; Vanquishers of Waterloo !

France has twice too well been taught When the soldier citizen

The “moral lesson” dearly boughtSway'd not o'er his fellow men

Her safety sits not on a throne, Save in deeds that led them on

With CAPET or NAPOLEON! Where glory smiled on Freedom's son

But in equal rights and laws,
Who, of all the despot's banded,

Hearts and hands in one great cause-
With that youthful chief competed ?

Freedom, such as God hath given
Who could boast o'er France defeated,

Unto all beneath his heaven,
Till lone Tyranny commanded ?

With their breath, and from their birth, Till, goaded by ambition's sting,

Though Guilt would sweep it from the earth; The Hero sunk into the King ?

With a fierce and lavish hand Then he fell :-So perish all,

Scattering nations' wealth like sand; Who would men by man enthral!

Pouring nations' blood like water,

In imperial seas of slaughter!
III.
And thou too of the snow-white plume!
Whose realm refused thee ev’n a tomb;t

But the heart and the mind,
Better hadst thou still been leading

And the voice of mankind, France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding,

Shall arise in communionThan sold thyself to death and shame

And who shall resist that proud union ? For a meanly royal name;

The time is past when swords subduedSuch as he of Naples wears,

Man may die-the soul's renew'd: Who thy blood-bought title bears.

Even in this low world of care
Little didst thou deem, when dashing

Freedom ne'er shall want an heir;
On thy war-horse through the ranks,

Millions breathe but to inherit
Like a stream which burst its banks,

Her for ever bounding spirit-
While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,

When once more her hosts assemble,

Tyrants shall believe and tremble
Shone and shiver'd fast around thee-
Of the fate at last which found thee:

Smile they at this idle threat ?
Was that haughty plume laid low

Crimson tears will follow yet
By a slave's dishonest blow ?
Once--as the moon sways o'er the tide,
It roll'd in air, the warrior's guide ;
Through the smoke-created night

FROM THE FRENCH.
Of the black and sulphurous fight,
The soldier raised his seeking eye

"ALL WEPT, BUT PARTICULARLY SAVARY, AND A To catch that crest's ascendancy,

POLISH OFFICER WHO HAD BEEN EXALTED FROM

THE RANKS BY BONAPARTE. HE CLUNG TO HIS en Nev, chap. viii. verse 7, &c. « The first angel sounded, and there

MASTER'S KNEES; WROTE A LETTER TO LORD mai er hail and fire mingled with blood," &c.

KEITH, ENTREATING PERMISSION TO ACCOMPANY I se 8. “And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain plog with fire was cast into the sea ; and the third part of the sea became IIM, IN THE MOST MENIAL CAPACITY, WHICH von ,"

COULD NOT BE ADMITTED.” Virse 10. "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from war in, burning as it were a lamp; and it fell upon the third part of the vert, and pon the fountains of waters."

Must thou go, my glorious Chief, Verse 11. “And the name of the star is called Wormwood; and the third

Sever'd from thy faithful few ? part of the waters became worinwood; and many men died of the waters,

Who can tell thy warrior's grief, xccause thry were made bitter." † Murat's remains are suid to have been torn from the grave and burnt.

Maddening o’er that long adieu ?

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Woman's love, and friendship’s zeal,

Like lava roll'd thy stream of blood,
Dear as both las been to me-

And swept down empires with its flood;
What are they to all I feel,

Earth rock'd beneath thee to her base,
With a soldier's faith for thee?

As thou didst lighten through all space;

And the shorn Sun grew dim in air,
Idol of the soldier's soul!

And set while thou wert dwelling there.
First in fight, but mightiest now:
Many could a world control;

Before thee rose, and with thee grew,
Thee alone no doom can bow.

A rainbow of the loveliest hue,
By thy side for years I dared

Of three bright colors,* each divine,
Death ; and envied those who fell,

And fit for that celestial sign;
When their dying shout was lieard,

For Freedom's hand had blended them,
Blessing him they served so well.*

Like tints in an immortal gem.

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FAREWELL to the Land, where the gloom of my

Glory ON THE STAR OF “ THE LEGION OF

Arose and o’ershadow'd the earth with her name HONOR."

She abandons me now—but the page of her story,

The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame. [FROM THE FRENCH.]

I have warr'd with a word which vanquished me only

When the meteor of conquest allured me too far; STAR of the brave !~whose beam hath shed

I have coped with the nations which dread me thus Such glory o'er the quick and dead

lonely, Thou radiant and adored deceit!

The last single Captive to millions in war.
Which millions rush'd in arms to greet,
Wild meteor of immortal birth!

Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown & Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth ?

me,

I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, Souls of slain heroes form'd thy rays; But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found Eternity flash'd through thy blaze; The music of thy martial sphere

Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Was fame on high and honor here,

Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted And thy light broke on human eyes,

In strife with the storm, when their battles were Like a Volcano of the skies.

wonThen the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was

blasted, At Waterloo one man was seen, whose left arm was shattered by a cannon ball, to wrench it off with tóe other, and throwing it up in the air, ex. Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun! claimed to his comrades Vive l'Empereur, jusqu'à la mort!' There were many other instances of the like; this you may, however, depend on as trud," Private Letter from Brussels.

* The tri-color.

thee,

i

Farewell to thee, Fiai.ce !--but when Liberty rallies Then when nature around me is smiling,
Once more in thy regions, remember me then-

The last smile which answers to mine,
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys; I do not believe it beguiling,
Though wither’d, thy tears will unfold it again,

Because it reminds me of thine;
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And when winds are at war with the ocean,
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice-

As the breasts I believed in with me, There are links which must break in the chain that If their billows excite an emotion, has bound us,

It is that they bear me from thee. Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice.

Though the rock of my last hope is shiver'd,

And its fragments are sunk in the wave, Though I feel that my soul is deliver'd

To pain-it shall not be its slave.

There is many a pang to pursue me: WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF "THE

They may crush, but they shall not contemnPLEASURES OF MEMORY."

They may torture, but shall not subdue me

'Tis of thee that I think-not of them. ABSENT or present, still to thee, My friend, what magic spells belong !

Though human, thou didst not deceive me, As all can tell, who share, like me,

Though woman, thou didst not forsake, In turn thy converse, and thy song.

Though loved, thou forborest to griere me, But when the dreaded hour shall come

Though slander'd, thou never couldst shake, By Friendship ever deem'd too nigh,

Though trusted, thợu didst not disclaim me, And “ MEMORY” o'er her Druid's tomb

Though parted, it was not to fly,
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,

Though watchful, it was not to defame me, How fondly will she then repay

Nor mute, that the world might belie.
Thy homage offer'd at her shrine,
And blend, while ages roll away,

Yet I blame not the world, nor despise it,
Her name immortally with thine !

Nor the war of the many with one-
April 19th, 1812.

If my soul was not fitted to prize it,

'Twas folly not sooner to shun:
And if dearly that error hath cost me,

And more than I once could foresee,

I have found that, whatever it lost me,
SONNET.

It could not deprive me of thee.

ROUSSEAU-Voltaire-our Gibbon-and de Staël

* Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore,

Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more,
Their memory thy remembrance would recall;
To them thy banks were lovely as to all,

But they have made them lovelier, for the lore

Of mighty minds doth hallow in the core Of human hearts the ruin of a wall

Where dwelt the wise and wond'rous; but by thee How much more, Lake of Beauty! do we feel,

In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea,
The wild glow of that not ungentle zeal,

Which of the heirs of immortality
Is proud, and makes the breath of glory real!

From the wreck of the past, which hath perish'da

Thus much I at least may recall,
It hath taught me that what I most cherish'd

Deserved to be dearest of all:
In the desert a fountain is springing,

In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,

Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

DARKNESS.

I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars STANZAS TO --.t

Did wander darkling in the eternal space,

Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Though the day of my destiny's over, Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;

And the star of my fate hath declined, Morn came, and went-and came, and brought nc
Thy soft heart refused to discover

day,
The faults which so many could find; And men forgot their passions in the dread
Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted, Of this their desolation; and all hearts
It shrunk not to share it with me,

Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And the love which my spirit hath painted, And they did live by watch-fires—and the thrones,
It never hath found but in thee.

The palaces of crowned kings-the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,

Were burnt for beacons ; cities were consumed,
* Geneva, Ferney, Coppet, Lausanne.
† His sister, Mrs. Leigh.

And men were gather'd round their blazing homes

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