FROM THE TURKISH. 1. THE chain I gave was fair to view, 2. These gifts were charm'd by secret spell 3. That chain was firm in every link, That lute was sweet-till thou could'st think 4. Let him, who from thy neck unbound Restring the chords, renew the clasp. 5. When thou wert changed, they alter'd too; The chain is broke, the music mute. 'Tis past-to them and thee adieu False heart, frail chain, and silent lute. SONNET. TO GENEVRA. THINE eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair, The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn— Such seem'st thou-but how much more excellent! With nought Remorse can claim-nor Virtue scorn. SONNET. TO GENEVRA. THY cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe, Gleams like a seraph from the sky descending, INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT OF A NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. WHEN some proud son of man returns to earth, Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Newstead Abbey, Oct. 30, 1808. |