SONNET.

ON A LOCK OF HAIR.

THOU
HOU precious Ringlet! all that now is mine
Of one so dearly loved! that oft hast blessed

With soft and soothing thoughts my anxious

breast!

Once more I ope with trembling hands the shrine
In which fond care hath guarded thee. Still shine
Thy dark brown tints; time has not dispossessed
The soft hairs of their gloss....Oh, oft caressed!
Oh, dear memorial of that form divine!
Thou, 'midst the pangs of absence, canst impart
Soft-whispering hopes, lull with a flattering dream
The wild emotions of my throbbing heart,

And calm away each passion's rude extreme; And, led by thee, my rapt thoughts fondly stray With her from whom I wander far away.

K

SONNET.

OH, verdant tree! whose cool and dewy shade
Was wont at even-tide my soul to cheer,

When at my side she whom my soul holds dear Sat smiling like a cherub....then I strayed Through fields of fancied bliss; the meads displayed New beauties to my eyes; and all the year

Clothed in new glories shone....so much the maid Nature and Nature's bounties could endear: Such thoughts the breeze recalls that in thy sprays Sighs mournfully; to me it speaks of days,

Of long past peace, of those delightful years That never shall return, when all my tears Were tears of joy. And ah! it now conveys

Sad bodings to my mind, and gloomy fears.

TO LYDIA.

THOSE lips to mine are pressed in vain,
In vain, false fair, those arms enfold me;
Thy lavished charms no more retain

The powerful spells they had to hold me.

Though red the rose that on thy lip,

With dewy odours bathed, is glowing, I will not drink where all may sip,

Whence sweets to all alike are flowing.

The form that yields to all its sweets,
To me can ne'er be worth caressing,
And, if thy heart for numbers beats,

Oh tell me, is it worth possessing?

Then fare thee well, and let us part, Since my short dream of Love is over; I have but lost a thing of art,

While thou hast lost a faithful lover.

Which will the greatest loss sustain
I know not, but I feel full dearly
That thou wilt never find again

A heart to love thee so sincerely.

Once more fare well, so let us part;

For me, I ever must regret thee; For time can never teach my heart, Though thou art faithless, to forget thee.

Ah no! I do but boast in vain

That love is from thy bosom banished; For while I speak I feel thy chain,

And all my doubts of thee have vanished.

Still smile, and I will think that now
On me alone those lips are smiling;

Flatter, nor will I think that thou

My simple heart art still beguiling.

Let but that rosy lip once more
Yield to my lip its fragrant treasure,
And I'll forget that from that store
Another draws large draughts of pleasure.

Oh pour on me those floods of light
'That from thy radiant eye are streaming
I will not dream that eye so bright
For any eye but mine is beaming.

And ah! if soft and painless sighs
Thy bosom move with gentle motion,
As the light summer air bids rise

In lightest waves the peaceful ocean,

My bosom then shall fondly swell,
Nor will I in thy sighs discover
That all thy softest wishes dwell

With some more highly-favoured lover.

Then say no hand but mine shall press

That hand, or touch the charms I sigh for,

That I alone shall e'er possess

The love that I would gladly die for;