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From her whom ev'ry heart must love,

And ev'ry eye with wonder see; My sad, my lifeless steps remove

Ah! were she fair alone for me!

In vain to solitudes I fly,

To bid her form from mem'ry part; That form still dwells on mem’ry's eyes And roots its beauties in



In ev'ry rose that decks the vales,

I sce her cheek's pure blush appear: And when the larki the morning hails,

"T is Julia's voicc salutes niy ear.

Thus, let me rove the world around,

Whatever beauty's charm can boast, Or soothe the soul with sweetest sound,

Must paint the idol I have lost.



WHEN love hath charm’d the virgin's ear,

She hides the tender thought in vain : How oft a blush, a sigh, a tear,

Betrays the sweetly-anxious pain!

Dear youth ! a mutual flame I own:

The sorrows of thy breast are mine; Thy virtues all my heart have won,

That boasts a passion pure as-thine.

No more shalt thou my coldness mourn

I trust the drop that dims thine eye ; I see fair Truth thy lips adorn,

And hear her voice in ev'ry sigh.


Written near her Grave.

MUCH-INJUR'D MAID, who liest pale below,

To thee a PILGRIM sad I steal away; In mournful silence steal, o'erpower'd with woe,

To bathe with floods of penitence thy clay.

Oh! can thy gentle ghost the wretch forgive,

Who seeks thy sod at this lone hour of nightA wretch, whose greatest hardship is to live,

Who, dead to pleasure, sickens at the light!

Oh! if my grief could soothe the sweetest SHADE,

And pardon gain, which JUSTICE must denys Near Julia's ashes should this Form be laid;

Its crimes forgotten- then what bliss to die!

Tir'd of the world, my heart no longer prays

(What others covet) for extended years : For who would madly court a length of days,

To count (alas !) the moments by his tears?



Detained in Italy by contrary winds, he expresses his

ardent desire for sailing for England.

Far from my Julia's arms I lonely sigh,

And wish to clasp thy beauties, but in vain; The surly winds my only wish deny,

Yet would I dare the dangers of the MAIN.

Ye winds and waves, how cruel to combine !

O let my pray’rs your rude, rude pity prove; Think of the gloomy moments that are mine!

Alas! ye know not what it is to love !

To stately structures now I urge my way,

And weakly think the minutes to beguile! But anxious Love will not be led astray :

Love goads my bosom for the virgin's smile.

Now where the PAINTER shows his mimic art,

I strive to free my soul from Love's alarms; Lo, ev'ry VENUS but augments my smart,

And to my view presents thy brighter charms.

To Music now fatigu'd I yield my ear,

But Music cannot the dull hours controul; With cold indiff'rence ev'ry chord I hear,

While not a sound descends into my soul.

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