I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride, My heart in all,-save hope,--the same. Yet was I calm: I knew the time We met, and not a nerve was shook. I saw thee gaze upon my face, Yet meet with no confusion there : Away! away! my early dream November 2, 1808. FILL THE GOBLET AGAIN A SONG FILL the goblet again! for I never before 30 Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core ; Let us drink!-who would not ?-since, through life's varied round, In the goblet alone no deception is found. I have tried in its turn all that life can supply; I have bask'd in the beam of a dark rolling eye; I have loved!-who has not ?-but what heart can declare That pleasure existed while passion was there ? In the days of my youth, when the heart's in its spring, And dreams that affection can never take wing, ΙΟ I had friends!-who has not ?-but what tongue will avow, That friends, rosy wine! are so faithful as thou ? The heart of a mistress some boy may estrange, Friendship shifts with the sunbeam-thou never canst change; Thou grow'st old-who does not ?-but on earth what appears, Whose virtues, like thine, still increase with its years? Yet if blest to the utmost that love can bestow, Then the season of youth and its vanities past, There we find-do we not ?-in the flow of the soul, When the box of Pandora was opened on earth, Long life to the grape! for when summer is flown, 30 We must die-who shall not ?-May our sins be forgiven, And Hebe shall never be idle in heaven. LINES TO MR. HODGSON WRITTEN ON BOARD THE LISBON PACKET HUZZA! Hodgson, we are going, Our embargo 's off at last; Bend the canvas o'er the mast. Here's a rascal Come to task all, Prying from the custom-house; Cases cracking, Not a corner for a mouse 'Scapes unsearch'd amid the racket, Ere we sail on board the Packet. Now our boatmen quit their mooring, 66 Men and women, Gemmen, ladies, servants, Jacks; All are wrangling, Stuck together close as wax.— Such the general noise and racket, Ere we reach the Lisbon Packet. 66 Now we've reach'd her, lo! the captain, Nobles twenty Did at once my vessel fill." 66 Did they? Jesus, How you squeeze us! Would to God they did so still: ΤΟ 20 30 40 Then I'd scape the heat and racket Fletcher! Murray! Bob! where are you? As the hatchway down he rolls, On Braganza― 66 Of warm water No, a cup 60. 66 What's the matter? " Zounds! my liver's coming up; I shall not survive the racket Of this brutal Lisbon Packet.' Now at length we're off for Turkey, May unship us in a crack. But, since life at most a jest is, Still to laugh by far the best is, Great and small things, Sick or well, at sea or shore; While we're quaffing, Let's have laughing Who the devil cares for more ?— Some good wine! and who would lack it, Falmouth Roads, June 30, 1809. 70 80 STANZAS WRITTEN IN PASSING THE THROUGH cloudless skies, in silvery sheen, And now upon the scene I look, The azure grave of many a Roman; Sweet Florence! those were pleasant times, Though Fate forbids such things to be, I cannot lose a world for thee, But would not lose thee for a world. November 14, 1809. WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM IF, in the month of dark December, (What maid will not the tale remember?) If, when the wintry tempest roar'd, ΤΟ 20 |