O THAT a week could be an age, and we To serve our joys would lengthen and dilate. O to arrive each Monday morn from Ind! To land each Tuesday from the rich Levant! In little time a host of joys to bind, And keep our souls in one eternal pant! This morn, my friend, and yester-evening taught Me how to harbour such a happy thought. XI. ΤΟ TIME's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb; And snared by the ungloving of thine hand. But I behold thine eyes' well memoried light; I cannot look upon the rose's dye, But to thy cheek my soul doth take its flight; I cannot look on any budding flower, But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips, And harkening for a love-sound, doth devour Its sweets in the wrong sense :-Thou dost eclipse Every delight with sweet remembering, And grief unto my darling joys dost bring. .* A lady whom he saw for some few moments at Vauxhall. O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight! O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, Save me from curious conscience, that still lords And seal the hushed casket of my soul. 1819. XIII. ON FAME. FAME, like a wayward girl, will still be coy Who have not learnt to be content without her; A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper'd close, Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her; A very Gipsey is she, Nilus-born, Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar; Ye love-sick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn; 1819. XIV. ON FAME. "You cannot eat your cake and have it too."-Proverb. How fever'd is the man, who cannot look It is as if the rose should pluck herself, Should darken her pure grot with muddy gloom : But the rose leaves herself upon the briar, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed, And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire, Why then should man, teasing the world for grace, 1819. |