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FOUND IN A BOWER FACING THE
Oh! thou whose voice I love to hear,
With lengthen’d sighs it soothes minè ear; Oh! thou whose fond embrace to meet,
The young Spring all enamour'd flies, And robs thee of thy kisses sweet,
And on thee pours her laughing eyes; Thou at whose call the light fays start,
That silent in their hidden bower Lie penciling with tenderest art
The blossom thin and infant flower;
Oh! if aright I tune the reed
By simple lay and humble meed;
My willing hands this bower have made, Still let this bower thine influence feel,
And be its gloom thy favourite shade! For thee of all the cherub train
Alone my votive Muse would woo; Of all that skim along the main,
Or walk at dawn yon mountains blue; Of all that slumber in the grove,
Or playful urge the gossamer's flight, Or down the vale or streamlet move,
With whisper soft and pinion light.
I court thee, through the glimmering air,
When morning springs from slumbers still, And waving bright his golden hair,
Stands tiptoe on yon eastern hill. I court thee, when at noon reclined,
I watch the murmuring insect throng
Or silent climb the leaf along.
And drink no more receding light,
Sinks on the bosom of the night.
Alone mid shadowy rocks I roam,
Of beings and of worlds to come. Smooth glides with thee my pensive hour,
Thou warm'st to life my languid mind; Thou cheer'st a frame with genial power,,
That droops in every ruder wind. Breathe, cherub! breathe! once soft and warm,
Like thine, the gale of Fortune blew, How has the desolating storm
Swept all I gazed on from my view! Unseen, unknown, I wait my doom,
The haunts of men indignant flee, Hold to my heart a listless gloom,
And joy but in the Muse and thee.
TO AN INDIAN GOLD COIN.
SLAVE of the dark and dirty mine,
What vanity hath brought thee here? How can I love to see thee shine
So bright whom I have bought so dear?
The tent rope's flapping lone I hear, For twilight converse, arm in arm;
The jackal's shriek bursts on mine ear, When mirth and music wont to charm.
By Chericul's dark wandering streams,
Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild, Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams,
Of Teviot loved while still a child,
Of castled rocks stupendous piled, By Esk or Eden's classic wave,
Where loves of youth and friendship smiled, Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave! Fade, daydreams sweet, from memory fade !
The perish'd bliss of youth's first prime, That once so bright on fancy play'd,
Revives no more in aftertime.
Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave;
The daring thoughts that soar'd sublime Are sunk in Ocean's southern wave.
Slave of the mine! thy yellow light
Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drearA gentle vision comes by night
My lonely widow'd heart to cheer :
Her eyes are dim with many a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine;
Her fond heart throbs with many a fear!I cannot bear to see thee shine.
For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave,
I left a heart that loved me true! I cross'd the tedious ocean wave,
To roam in lands unkind and new.
The cold wind of the stranger blew
Dark and untimely met my view;
From love, from friendship, country torn,
Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn; Go, mix thee with thy kindred clay!
For, lo, I seek the sacred walls
I come not single, but along