LXII. Art thou, my G*******, for ever fled! And am I left to unavailing wo! When fortune's storms assail this weary head, No more thy soothing voice my anguish chears: 'Tis meet that I should mourn :-flow forth afresh my tears. ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. RETIREMENT.* WHEN in the crimson cloud of Even, The lingering light decays, And Hesper on the front of heaven His glittering gem displays; Deep in the silent vale, unseen, Beside a lulling stream, A pensive Youth of placid mien, Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur piled Ye woods, along whose windings wild * This, and most of the following pieces, are taken from a Collection of Juvenile Poems by the same hand, published many years ago. The Editor hopes they will be agreeable to his readers: but it was with difficulty he could prevail on the Author to consent to their being reprinted. Where Melancholy strays forlorn, And Wo retires to weep, What time the wan moon's yellow horn Gleams on the western deep: To you, ye wastes, whose artless charms Ne'er drew Ambition's eye, Scaped a tumultuous world's alarms, Το your retreats I fly. Deep in your most sequester'd bower Let me at last recline, Where Solitude, mild, modest Power, Leans on her ivy'd shrine. How shall I woo thee, matchless Fair! Thy heavenly smile how win! Thy smile, that smooths the brow of Care, And stills the storm within. O wilt thou to thy favourite grove Thine ardent votary bring, And bless his hours, and bid them move Serene, on silent wing. |