LINES

DESCRIPTIVE OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS, AND THE DECLINE OF LIFE, From Cooke's "Conversation: a Didactic Poem."

WHE

HEN evening shades scarf the
up eye of day'
-With all that bustle daily cares display,-
And man from this reliev'd, seeks in his home
Those purer joys which never ask to roam;
Here kindred talk enjoys its happiest hour,
"Twixt love and duty-gratitude and pow'r;
Here ev'ry finer chord is touch'd that rings,
When rapture swells the note, and pours along the strings.
He now recounts, in fond domestic ease,
All that he thinks will cultivate and please;
The public good which loyal hearts proclaim
As equal sharer in the public fame;

What cast of fortune speeds himself or friends;
What match commences- -or what law-suit ends;
What whims amuse-what useful books come out;
What neighbour meditates a friendly rout.
-Perhaps some party for his household made,
Which needs the toilet's supplemental aid;
Then shows such presents for his children bought,
As prove the pledges of a father's thought.

Oh! sweet exchange of every pure delight
Which cheers the day, and gladdens every night,
Where mutual looks explain, without a voice,
The bliss which consecrates a mutual choice;
Where children run to hail their happy sire,
And form a list'ning group around his fire;
Where all combine to show, from nature's laws,
The Conversation Piece which nature draws.

In latter age, when passions milder flow,
And our chief pride is rais'd on what we know;
Tho' love no longer takes an active part,
No longer flames or agitates the heart,
Still Conversation keeps its settled throne,
Its power of pleasing still is all our own.
By this once more we prove the virgin kind,

And gain fresh conquests o'er her charms of mind;
Disperse the gloomy-aid the cheerful hour,
Obtain respect, and confidence, and pow'r;

And

And when approaching to its awful close,
Life chiefly finds enjoyment in repose;

When ebbing nature wants some soothing friend
To cheer its spirit and support its end;
This social charm shall gild our 'setting day,
Inspire fresh hopes, and brighter views display;
Hopes, which foretaste, confirm'd by pious trust,
The sacred Conversation of the Just;

Where man "made perfect" feels celestial fires,
Glows in discourse-or hymns in heavenly choirs.
When, blest communion! ev'ry joy is thine,
Eternal truth, and harmony divine.

Woo'd thee among the Falls of Clyde,
On Levin's banks, on Kelvin-side;
And now, on Hanwell's flow'ry plain,
I welcome thy return again—
At Hanwell! where romantic views
And sylvan scenes invite the Muse;
And where, lest erring man should stray,
Truth's blameless teacher leads the way!

Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade,
Emblem of virtue in the shade,
Rearing thy head to brave the storm
That would thine innocence deform!
Of all the flow'rs that greet the spring,
Of all the flow'rs the seasons bring,
To me, while doom'd to linger here,
The lowly primrose shall be dear!

Sprung like a primrose in the wild,
Short, like the primrose, Marion smil'd;
The spring that gave her blossoms birth,
Tore them for ever from the earth;
Nor left, ah me! one bud behind,
To tranquillize a parent's mind,

Save that sweet bud which strews the way,
Blest hope! to an eternal May!

Portsdown is a hill in the neighbourhood of Portsmouth, where there is an annual fair. The calamity which gave occasion to these verses happened July 29, 1806.

To the Memory of Christian, Wife of the Rev. C. H. White,

Rector of Shalden, Hants, and Daughter of the late A. St. Barbe, Esq. who died July 3, 1806, in the Twenty-second Year of her Age.

BY THE REV. S. WHITE,

Fellow of Oriel Coll. Oxford, and Rector of Maidford, Northamptonshire.

THILE thy fond partner, wrapt in mental gloom,

W

Lifts his dim eye to scenes beyond the tomb!

Or hangs in silent anguish o'er thy dust,

While reason tells him all his grief is just!-
Accept, blest spirit! from a brother's tongue

Those praises angels have already sung.

-Tho' weak his voice--permit him to enshrine,

In short-liv'd verse, undying worth like thine.

-That strangers hence may learn, thy form and mind

Contain'd whatever sense to beauty join'd.

A husband's idol!--and a parent's pride!

Fond friendship's boast!-which charm'd the world-and died!
-To warn that thoughtless world no art could save

Perfection's favourite from an early grave!

And

And if no miracle prolong'd thy breath,

For whom shall mercy check the dart of death?—
To teach its sufferers, who, like us, deplore

Life's sweetest flower cut down to bloom no more,—
A transient date to excellence is given,

To wean from earth-and raise our hopes to heaven.