WHEN bright Roxana treads the green
In all the pride of dress and mien,
Averse to freedom, love and play,
The dazzling rival of the day;
None other beauty strikes mine eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.
But when, disclaiming art, the fair
Assumes a soft engaging air,
Mild as the opening morn of May,
Familiar, friendly, free, and gay,
The scene improves where'er she goes,
More sweetly smile the pink and rose.
O lovely maid! propitious hear,
Nor deem thy shepherd insincere;
Pity a wild illusive flame,
That varies objects still the same,
And let their very changes prove
The never-varied force of love.
'TIS said that under distant skies
(Nor you the fact deny)
What first attracts an Indian's eyes
Becomes his deity.
Perhaps a lily or a rose,
That shares the morning's ray,
May to the waking swain disclose
The regent of the day.
Perhaps a plant in yonder grove,
Enrich'd with fragrant pow'r,
May tempt his vagrant eyes to rove
Where blooms the sovereign flow'r.
Perch'd on the cedar's topmost bough,
And gay with gilded wings,
Perchance, the patron of his vow,
Some artless linnet sings.
The swain surveys her pleas'd, afraid
Then low to earth he bends,
And owns upon her friendly aid
His health, his life, depends.
Vain futile idols, bird, or flow'r,
To tempt a votary's pray'r!-
How would his humble homage tow'r
Should he behold my fair!
Yes-might the pagan's waking eyes
O'er Flavia's beauty range,
He there would fix his lasting choice,
Nor dare, nor wish to change.
THE fatal hours are wondrous near,
That from these fountains bear my dear;
A little space is given; in vain;
She robs my sight, and shuns the plain.
A little space, for me to prove
My boundless flame, my endless love;
And, like the train of vulgar hours,
Invidious Time that space devours.
Near yonder beach is Delia's way,
On that I gaze the livelong day:
No eastern monarch's dazzling pride
Should draw my longing eyes aside.
The chief that knows of succours nigh,
And sees his mangled legions die,
Casts not a more impatient glance,
To see the loitering aids advance.
Not more the schoolboy, that expires
Far from his native home, requires
To see some friend's familiar face,
Or meet a parent's last embrace-
She comes-but, ah! what crowds of beaus
In radiant bands my fair enclose!
Oh! better hadst thou shun'd the green:
Oh, Delia! better far unseen.
Methinks, by all my tender fears,
By all my sighs, by all my tears,
I might from torture now be free-
'Tis more than death to part from thee!
THE lovely Delia smiles again!
That killing frown has left her brow;
Can she forgive my jealous pain,
And give me back my angry vow?
Love is an April's doubtful day;
Awhile we see the tempest low'r,
Anon the radiant heaven survey,
And quite forget the flitting show'r.
The flowers that hung their languid head,
Are burnish'd by the transient rains:
The vines their wonted tendrils spread,
And double verdure gilds the plain.
The sprightly birds, that droop'd no less
Beneath the power of rain and wind,
In every raptur❜d note express
The joy I feel when thou art kind.
PERHAPS it is not love, said I,
That melts my soul when Flavia's nigh:
Where wit and sense like her's agree,
One may be pleas'd, and yet be free.
The beauties of her polish'd mind
It needs no lover's eye to find;
The hermit freezing in his cell
Might wish the gentle Flavia well.
It is not love-averse to bear
The servile chain that lovers wear;
Let, let me all my fears remove,
My doubts dispel--it is not love.
Oh! when did wit so brightly shine
In any form less fair than thine?
It is- -it is love's subtle fire,
And under friendship lurks desire.
O'ER desert plains, and rushy meers,
And wither'd heaths I rove;
Where tree, nor spire, nor cot appears,
I pass to meet my love.
But though my path were damask'd o'er
With beauties e'er so fine,
My busy thoughts would fly before,
To fix alone--on thine.
No fir-crown'd hills could give delight,
No palace please mine eye;
No pyramid's aërial height,
Where mouldering monarchs lie.
Unmov'd, should Eastern kings advance,
Could I the pageant see;
Splendor might catch one scornful glance,
Not steal one thought from thee.
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