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One frenzy seiz'd both great and small,
On the poor frogs the rogues began to fall, Meaning to splash them, not to do them hurt.
As Milton quaintly fings," the fones 'gan pour,”
Indeed an Otaheite show'r!
One's eye was beat out of his head
Among the smitten, it was found
And drew a tear from ev'ry eye:
My lads, you think this very pretty fun! “ Your pebbles round us fly as thick as hops~ “ Have warmly complimented all our chops; “ To you, I guess, that these are pleasant slones;
“ And so they might be to us frogs,
“ You fad, young good-for-nothing dogs! “ But they're so hard they break our bones.”
ALONZO THE BRAVE and FAIR IMOGINE.
Convers’d as they sat on the green;
The maid’s was the Fair Imogine. " And, oh!” said the youth, “ fince to-morrow I go
To fight in a far-distant land,
hand.” “ Oh! hush these suspicions,” Fair Imogine faid,
" Offensive to love and to me: For, if you be living, or if you be dead, I swear by the Virgin, that none in
Forget my Alonzo the Brave,
And bear me away to the grave!"
His love she lamented him sore: But scarce had a twelvemonth elaps’d, when, behold, A Baron, all cover'd with jewels and gold,
Arriv'd at Fair Imogine's door !
His treasure, his presents, his spacious domain
Soon made her untrue to her vows :
And carry'd her home as his fpoufe !
The revelry now was begun;
When the bell at the castle toll done!
Then first, with amazement, Fair Imogine found,
That a stranger was plac'd by her side :
But earnestly gaz'd on the bride!
His armour was sable to view:
The lights in the chamber burn'd blue!
The guests fat in silence and fear: At length spoke the Bride, while she trembled" I pray, Sir Knight, that your
you And deign to partake of our cheer!" The lady is filent; the stranger complies;
His vizor he flowly unclos'd;
When a skeleton's head was expos’d!
All turn'd with disguft from the scene; The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept out, And sported his eyes and his temples about,
While the spectre address’d Imogine : - Behold me, thou false one ! behold me!” he cry'd,
" Remember Alonzo the Brave!
God grants, that, to punish thy falsehood and pride,
And bear thee away to the grave !"
While loudly she shriek’d in dismay;
thro’ the wide-yawning ground! Nor ever again was Fair Imogine found,
Or the spectre who bore her away.
To inhabit the castle presume;
And mourns her deplorable doom.
When mortals in slumber are bound,
And fkriek as he whirls her around!
Dancing round them the spectres are seen:
And his confort the False Imogine !"
ELEGY WRITTEN AT SEA.
H EAV'N gave the word”—Delia! once more
fareweli! Ah me! how fleeting all our joys are found ! The pangs thy faithful, tender heart can tell, For pangs
like mine that tender heart muft wound. Snatch'd from thy arms, to distant lands I roam,
And face the horrors of the howling sea;
Far from my long-lov'd friends and native home,
And far, my Delia! ah! too far from thee. No more thy pleasing converse cheers my soul,
And smooths my passage through life's rugged way; Thy smiles no more my wonted cares control,
And give new glories to the golden day.
And hand in hand the vary'd landscape rove,
Unlock the garden sweets, or fan the grove. With notes accordant to thy skilful tongue,
No more I seek my Doric reed to tune ; No more the tender melody prolong,
And chide the envious hours, that fleet too soom
When sinks in ocean's bed the source of light,
And darkness drear his raven pinion spreads, Cheerless and lone I pass the ling’ring night,
With thoughts congenial to its deepest shades. Unless, perchance, my weary watchful eyes
Sleep’s balmy charm no longer can refuse, Then swift to thee my soul unfetter'd flies,
And each past scene of tenderness renews. With all that winning grace I see thee move,
That first endeard thy yielding heart to mine, When soften'd by the flame of virtuous love,
I led thee blushing to the hallow'd shrine. I see thee thou partner of my
heart! With all a mother's tender feelings bless’d, The frequent glance, the kiss, the tear impart,
And press the smiling infant to thy breait. Eager I haste a parent's joy to share
My bosom bounds with raptures felt before: But swift the foothing vision sinks in air,
Winds howl around and restless billows roar. Ev'n now, whilst prompted by the pleasing past,
In artless numbers flows this pensive lay,.