L'AMITIE EST L'AMOUR SANS AILES. WHY should my anxious breast repine, Days of delight may still be mine; Affection is not dead. In tracing back the years of youth, Bear it, ye breezes, to the seat, Through few, but deeply checkered years, Friendship! that thought is all thine own, Where yonder yew-trees lightly wave Which tells the common tale. Round this unconscious schoolboys stray, Till the dull knell of childish play From yonder studious mansion rings; But here whene'er my footsteps move, My silent tears too plainly prove 66 Friendship is Love without his wings!' Oh Love! before thy glowing shrine My early vows were paid; My hopes, my dreams, my heart was thine, For thine are pinions like the wind, Thou shalt not haunt my coming hour; Seat of my youth! thy distant spire Thy grove of elms, thy verdant hill, Thy every path delights me still, Each flower a double fragrance flings; Again, as once, in converse gay, "Friendship is Love without his wings! My Lycus! wherefore dost thou weep? But oh, 't will wake again. Think, think, my friend, when next we meet, From this my hope of rapture springs; 'Friendship is Love without his wings! In one, and one alone deceived, No- from oppressive bonds relieved, I turned to those my childhood knew, For none but these my breast shall wake, Friendship, the power deprived of wings!" Ye few! my soul, my life is yours, My memory and my hope; Your worth a lasting love insures, Unfettered in its scope; From smooth deceit and terror sprung, Let Adulation wait on kings. With joy elate, by snares beset, We, we, my friends, can ne'er forget "Friendship is Love without his wings!" Fictions and dreams inspire the bard Friendship and Truth be my reward, If laurelled fame but dwells with lies, Whose heart and not whose fancy sings: 66 Friendship is Love without his wings!" A WAR-SONG. TAMBOURGI! Tambourgi! thy 'larum afar Oh! who is more brave than a dark Suliote, To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild flock, Shall the sons of Chimari, who never forgive Let those guns so unerring such vengeance forego? Macedonia sends forth her invincible race; Then the pirates of Parga that dwell by the waves, I ask not the pleasure that riches supply, I love the fair face of the maid in her youth, Her caresses shall lull me, her music shall soothe ; Let her bring from the chamber her many-toned lyre, And sing us a song on the fall of her sire. Remember the moment when Previsa fell, I talk not of mercy, I talk not of fear: He neither must know who would serve the Vizier: Since the days of our prophet the Crescent ne'er saw A chief ever glorious like Ali Pashaw. Dark Muchtar his son to the Danube is sped, [dread; Let the yellow-haired Giaours view his horse-tail with When his Delhis come dashing in blood o'er the banks, How few shall escape from the Muscovite ranks! Selictar! unsheathe then our chief's scimitar: |