For thee, I judge thee by myself, and know, Dear hapless exile! all thou must endure; The cheerless days, and every heartsick woe That liberty might chase, and love should cure. Yet, O! when absence all my soul o'erpowers, Why does thy pen withhold the only aid? When gales blow homeward from the hostile shores, Why are the expected lines of love delay'd? Question unwise!-Does not this heart require Trust in his love my heart demands,-and, oh! Than even this cruel banishment ordains; Reliance that kind Heaven preserves his life, No fond deception, nor yet Hope nor Fear Fierce war ordains them! Fiend of humankind! Oft to my aid this consciousness I call, To close the eyes which still have oped to weep; When night and sorrow spread their mingled pall, That thought distills the' oblivious balm of sleep. All things around me seem to' expect him here; My husband's favourite robe enfolds me still; Here have I ranged the books he loved,-and there Placed the selected chair he used to fill. Again to be resumed, if yielding fate At length would give him back to love and me; Then should I see him there reclined sedate, Our darling children clinging round his knee. And lo! at yonder table where they stand!Their glances o'er the map of England stray; Ah! on the too, too interesting land ow bends thy Annise her intense survey! And now she smiles, and to her brother turns, I meet them in thy Frederic's candid eyes. Their strengthen'd bloom, their much expanded mind Shall recompense my beauty's vanish'd trace; Yes, thou wilt love me more when thou shalt find Thy absence written on my faded face. Dearest, farewell!-though misery now be ours, MISS SEWARD. WRITTEN AT SEA. ON sapphire throne, o'er heaven's unnumber'd fires, The moon in full-orb'd majesty presides; Calm are the seas, a favouring breeze transpires, And through the waves the vessel smoothly glides: Beyond the' horizon's bound the mind extends, To the sought shores where Hope delusive leads: Soothed by the scene, her tortures grief suspends For absent kindred, friends, and native meads. VOL. IV. L Till sympathy from brooding memory's stores Culls thorns, and plants them in the bleeding breast; Sunk into gloom the mind no more explores Hope's future dawn, and pants in vain for rest. 'What though the seas are calm, the skies serene,' Thus anguish dictates the desponding strain : 'To friendship fear presents a gloomier scene, The whirlwind's fury and tempestuous main. 'Even now, perhaps, from many a kindred eye My dubious fate compels the generous tear, And every passing cloud that veils the sky Chills some fond anxious breast with boding fear. In my love's bosom deeper sorrows roll, raves, Whilst horror paints me to her sickening soul Dash'd on a rock, o'erwhelm'd beneath the waves.' Father of heaven, whose power controls the storms, O let thy mercy hear a wanderer's prayer! Check the wild fears connubial fondness forms, And save the tender mourner from despair. For me, whate'er thy sovereign will shall doom, Still give me faith to bear that lot resign'd: That faith which, smiling, courts the dreary tomb, And, heaven-aspiring, sooths the' afflicted mind. REV. G. HUDDISFORD. THE SAILOR. THE sailor sighs as sinks his native shore, And all its lessening turrets bluely fade; He climbs the mast to feast his eye once more, And busy Fancy fondly lends her aid. Ah! now, each dear domestic scene he knew, Recall'd and cherish'd in a foreign clime, Charms with the magic of a moonlight view, Its colours mellow'd, not impair'd, by time. True as the needle, homeward points his heart, Through all the horrors of the stormy main ; This, the last wish with which its warmth could part, To meet the smile of her he loves again. When morn first faintly draws her silver line, Or eve's gray cloud descends to drink the wave; When sea and sky in midnight darkness join, Still, still he views the parting look she gave. Her gentle spirit, lightly hovering o'er, Attends his little bark from pole to pole; And, when the beating billows round him roar, Whispers sweet hope to soothe his troubled soul. Carved is her name in many a spicy grove, In many a plantain forest waving wide; Where dusky youths in painted plumage rove, And giant palms o'erarch the yellow tide. |