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She sank. 'Tis thus, kind Nature lets our wo
And lays her sorrowing child soft in the lap of rest.
Now all the mortal maid lies indolent,
Save one sweet cheek which the cool velvet turf
That foams against the sea-rock, look'd her neck,
Beneath her robe's white folds and azure zone,
Sportive;-about her neck their gold he twined,
As the vex'd Caspian, though its rage be past
Heaves on tumultuous still, and hath not power to cease
So still each little pulse was seen to throb
Though passion and its pains were lull'd to rest,
And ever and anon" a piteous sob
Shook the pure arch expansive o'er her breast.
Save that 't was all tranquillity; that reign'd
It chanced, that day, lured by the verdure, came
He sinn'd, a heavenly angel. The faint flame
Raguel, fair Egla's sire, in secret vow'd
Where friendless shades the sacred rites enshroud ;—
And he bethought him of the forfeit joys
He sat him down ;-the melancholy noise
Of leaf and creeping vine accordant with his thought.
When fiercer spirits howl'd, he but complain'd
Of him, beneath some black infernal clift
The first drear song of wo; and torment wrung
His plaining voice-and frame the like as now he sung:
"Wo to thee, wild ambition, I employ
Despair's dull notes thy dread effects to tell,
"Through the celestial domes thy clarion peal'd,--
And straight were fiends;-hurl'd from the shrinking field, They waked in agony to wail the change.
Darting through all her veins the subtile fire
The world's fair mistress first inhaled thy breath,
"Thy thousand wild desires, that still torment
The fiercely struggling soul, where peace once dwelt,
"As spirits feel-yet not for man we mourn
That builds his nest, loves, sings the morn's return,
"Fame ne'er had roused, nor song her records kept
The pencil's colors,—all in earth had slept,
Now see them mark with death his victim's strife.
"Man found thee death-but death and dull decay
"Yet what the price? with stings that never cease
Thus Zophiel still,-" though now the infernal crew
And now, regretful of the joys his birth
Had promised; deserts, mounts and streams he crost,
And oft, by unsuccessful searching pain'd,
Sometimes he gave out oracles, amused
Spoke from her quivering lips, or penn'd her mystic lines.
And now he wanders on from glade to glade
He caught a glimpse. The colors in her face--
Who'd see him—reft of glory-lost to bliss-
To glean a scanty joy-with thoughts like this-
Ineffable--But what assail'd his ear,
A sigh ?-surprised, another glance he took;
Whispering, "yes, 't is of earth! So, new-found life
"Stern as it was, to win her o'er to death!-
"To bloom for ever for me thus-still true
"But oh! severest pain !-I cannot be
For bliss) permitted the poor insect man.
"The few I've seen and deem'd of worth to win
"Of mutter'd word and harmful drug, did learn
Brought back the dead; when tortured Saul did crave,
"To view his pending fate. Fair-nay, as this Young slumberer, that dread witch; when, I array'd In lovely shape, to meet my guileful kiss
She yielded first her lip. And thou, sweet maid-
"She's fallen to sleep in grief-haply been chid,
"And art can lend, come forth. He who would gain
be mine a little year-even fair And sweet as now-Oh! respite! while possest I lose the dismal sense of my despair
But then--I will not think upon the rest.
"And wherefore grieve to cloud her little day
Wake pretty fly!-and-while thou mayst,--be mine.
"Though but an hour--so thou suppliest thy looms
EDWARD COATE PINKNEY,
SON of the late Hon. William Pinkney, of Baltimore, was born in London, in October, 1802, while his father was minister of the United States at the court of St James. He passed his infancy in England, and on the return of his father to this country, he was placed as a student in Baltimore College, at the age of ten or eleven. Two or three years after this, he obtained the post of midshipman in the United States navy. In this station he continued nine years, visiting in the course of his service, various parts of the globe. On the death of his father he quitted the navy, and devoted himself to the practice of the law. He died in 1828. His volume of poems was published in 1825,