With night it was seal'd-with a besom 'twas sign'd

And Ruin-the pow'r it engaged

-The consideration was hidden behind,

But firmly was Ruin engag'd.

(Perhaps, in some moment hereafter to come,

The Comet with Palace must fall,

Adown the dire gorge of dark Ruin to roam,
While a besom shall sweep away all.)

"If Planet or Orbit-their duty neglect,

"Or homage due carelessly pay,

"In an instant is Ruin fierce vengeance to wreak,

"And tear them from being away.

The skeleton'd orbs to the king to be brought,

"To enkindle the menial flame,

"Thrown down as vile lumber they're wholly forgot.

"Or burn'd and destroy'd without name."

What servants did live there I will not inform,

But sure I can tell you what may,

E

-The spirit that rides in the torridal storm,

And the man that's neglected his day.

Tornadoes and hurricanes sounding and strong,

Swept the blaze of the Palace-domain,

Defining, as roaring and rousing along,

Each object, distinctly and plain

But Fancy sufficiently long have we wove,

This web of a tissue so strange,

A path that's less blazing our leisure may love,

Then come from the Comet we'll range.

SONG.

IN rooms of state let those recline,

Who luxury love and shew,

But be the simple mansion mine,
Where calm delight may flow:

There, happily, contentedly,

I'd live and envy none,

From luxury and care free,

And known to joy alone.

This simple home, a structure neat,

In situation rural,

Where order may with neatness meet,

And graces-surely plural:

Here morning and ev'ning,

I'd pay my duteous song,

With praising and praying,

To whom our vows belong.

A friend should share my every care,

With tenderness and pleasure,

And I to her could do no more,

But be an earthly treasure:

Of smiling and crying

We'd bear an equal part,

Still hourly employing

The graces of the heart.

Then be the simple mansion mine,

In situation rural,

Where order, neatness, may combine

With graces, surely plural.

Here morning and ev'ning,

I'd pay my duteous song,
With praising and praying,
To whom our vows belong.

SONG.

WEAVE me a garland of buds of the spring,
Of roses, carnations, and violets blue;

Let them be op'ning, blooming, and breathing,
Let the tip of each bud be dampen'd with dew:

Entwine them with leaves, but remove every thorn:
Now make a bouquet at which Flora might smile :
-Come give them, I'll take them, and haste o'er the lawn
To Myra-whose heart is a stranger to guile.

Do you see yonder cottage so pleasantly set,
That looks like neat little flow'r in the vale ?
'Tis there that my Myra and I oft have met;
"Tis there she has listen'd and smil'd at my tale!

Her heart is as bland as the dew of the morn,

Her eye is no stranger to sympathy's tear

-Then give me the garland entwin'd without thorn,
Come give it, I'll haste to the friend that's so dear.