GUY. MORTAL mixed of middle clay, And as, of old, Polycrates Chained the sunshine and the breeze, So did Guy betimes discover That he caught Nature in his snares; To speed his sails, to dry his hay; With their own harvest honored were. TO EVA. O FAIR and stately maid, whose eyes At the same torch that lighted mine; Ah! let me blameless gaze upon With fire that draws while it repels. THE AMULET. YOUR picture smiles as first it smiled; Give me an amulet That keeps intelligence with you,Red when you love, and rosier red, And when you love not, pale and blue. Alas! that neither bonds nor vows Can certify possession; Torments me still the fear that love HERMIONE. ON a mound an Arab lay, And sung his sweet regrets, The summer bird His sorrow heard, And, when he heaved a sigh profound, 'If it be, as they said, she was not fair, This Hermione absorbed The lustre of the land and ocean, 'I ask no bawble miniature, Nor ringlets dead Shorn from her comely head, Now that morning not disdains |