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All hail, ye tender feelings dear;
The sympathetic glow;
Had it not been for you!
In every care and ill;
The tenebrific scene,
My Davie or my Jean.
0, how that name inspires my style!
Amaist before I ken!
Were glowrin owre my pen.
Till ance he's fairly het;
Should rue this hasty ride,
His sweaty, wizen'd hide.
OCCASIONED BY THE UNFORTUNATE ISSUE OF A
Alas! how oft does Goodness wound itself,
O thou pale orb, that silent shines,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep! Thou seest a wretch that inly pines,
And wanders here to wail and weep! With woe I nightly vigils keep,
Beneath thy wan unwarming beam; And mourn,
in lamentation deep, How life and love are all a dream.
I joyless view thy rays
Reflected in the gurgling rill:
Thou busy pow'r, Remembrance, cease!
For ever bar returning peace!
No idly feign'd poetic pains,
My sad, love-lorn lamentings claim; No shepherd's pipe-Arcadian strains ;
No fabled tortures, quaint and tame: The plighted faith; the mutual flame;
The oft attested pow'rs above; The promis'd Father's tender name:
These were the pledges of my love! Encircled in her clasping arms,
How have the raptur'd moments flown! How have I wish'd for fortune's charms,
For her dear sake, and hers alone! And must I think it! is she gone,
My secret heart's exulting boast?
And is she ever, ever lost?
So lost to honour, lost to truth,
The plighted husband of her youth? Alas! life's path may be unsmooth! Her
way may lie thro' rough distress! Then, who her pangs and pains will soothe,
Her sorrows share, and make them less ? Ye winged hours that o'er us past,
Enraptur'd more, the more enjoy'd, Your dear remembrance in my breast,
My fondly-treasur'd thoughts employ'd. That breast, how dreary now, and void,
For her too scanty once of room! Ev’n ev'ry ray of hope destroy'd,
And not a wish to gild the gloom!
The morn that warns th' approaching day,
Awakes me up to toil and woe: I see the hours in long array,
That I must suffer, lingering, slow. Full many a pang, and many a throe,
Keen recollection's direful train, Must ring my soul, ere Phæbus, low,
Shall kiss the distant western main. And when my nightly couch I try,
Sore-harass'd out with care and grief, My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye,
Keep watchings with the nightly thief: Or if I slumber, fancy, chief,
Reigns haggard-wild, in sore affright: Ev'n day, all-bitter, brings relief,
From such a horror-breathing night. 0! thou bright queen, who o'er th’
expanse Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway! Oft has thy silent-marking glance
Observ'd us, fondly-wand'ring, stray! The time, unheeded, sped away,
While love's luxurious pulse beat high, Beneath thy silver-gleaming ray,
To mark the mutual-kindling eye. Oh! scenes in strong remembrance set!
Scenes, never, never to return! Scenes, if in stupor I forget,
Again I feel, again I burn! From ev'ry joy and pleasure torn,
Life's weary vale I'll wander thro'; And hopeless, comfortless, I'll mourn
A faithless woman's broken vow.
END OF THE FIRST PART.