THE SHIELD. OH! did you not hear a voice of death? Was it a wailing bird of the gloom, Which shrieks on the house of woe all night? Or a shivering fiend that flew to a tomb, To howl and to feed till the glance of light? "Twas not the death-bird's cry from the wood, See how the red, red lightning strays, And scares the gliding ghosts of the heath! Now on the leafless yew it plays Where hangs the shield of this son of death! That shield is blushing with murderous stains; But neither can take the blood away. Oft by that yew, on the blasted field, Demons dance to the red moon's light; While the damp boughs creak, and the swinging shield Sings to the raving spirit of night! THE TEAR. ON beds of snow the moonbeam slept, A warm tear gushed, the wintry air An angel, wandering from her sphere A DREAM. I THOUGHT this heart consuming lay I saw thy heart begin to melt, TO A LADY. ON HER SINGING. THY song has taught my heart to feel When, tired of life and misery, I wish to sigh my latest breath, Oh, Emma! I will fly to thee, And thou shalt sing me into death! And if along thy lip and cheek That smile of heavenly softness play, Thou'lt seem an angel of the sky, I'll That comes to charm me into bliss: gaze and die-who would not die. If death were half so sweet as this? WRITTEN IN A COMMON-PLACE BOOK, CALLED "THE BOOK OF FOLLIES.' In which every one that opened it should contribute something. TO THE BOOK OF FOLLIES. THIS tribute's from a wretched elf, That those who judge not too severely Will they yet brighten?-Never, never! TO JULIA. WEEPING. OH! if your tears are given to care, But if with Fancy's visioned fears, With dreams of woe your bosom thrill; You look so lovely in your tears, That I must bid you drop them still! CHARITY. "Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.'-ST. JOHN, chap. viii. O WOMAN! if by simple wile Thy soul has strayed from honour's track, 'Tis mercy only can beguile, By gentle ways, the wanderer back. The stain that on thy virtue lies, Washed by thy tears, may yet decay, As clouds that sully morning skies Go, go-be innocent, and live The tongues of men may wound thee sore; And bids thee 'go, and sin no more!' AT NIGHT. AT night, when all is still around, That foot that comes so soft at night! And then, at night, how sweet to say The eloquence of mute caress, With those we love, exchanged at night! At night, what dear employ to trace, That's hid by darkness from the sight! And guess, by every broken sigh; Is telling from the soul at night! 'Meria TO pur quando vuol, non è bisogna mutar ni faccia ni voce per esser un Angelo.' DIE when you will, you need not wear Than beauty bere on earth has given; Then bid me not to despair and pine, The Love that's ordered to bathe in wine Reflected bright in this heart of mine, They lose the half of beauty's light, Then wait no longer till tears shall flow, SONG. I NE'ER on that lip for a minute have gazed, And I've thought, as the dear little rubies you raised, Then be not so angry for what I have done, They were buds of temptation too pouting to shun, When your lip with a whisper came close to my cheek, And, plain as the eye of a Venus could speak, Then forgive the transgression, and bid me remain, Or, oh !-let me try the transgression again, LIGHT SOUNDS THE HARP. LIGHT Sounds the harp when the combat is over, |