POEMS: BY THE REV. G. CRABBE, VOL. III.

THE dame was sick, and when the youth applied For her consent, she groan'd, and cough'd, and cried, Talk'd of departing, and again her breath

Drew hard, and cough'd, and talk'd again of death; "Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy "And you together my estate enjoy :" Thus to the lovers was her mind exprest, Till they forbore to urge the fond request.

Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend, Dinah had still some duty to attend ;

But yet their walk, when Rupert's evening call Obtain'd an hour, made sweet amends for all; So long they now each other's thoughts had known, That nothing seem'd exclusively their own; But with the common wish, the mutual fear, They now had travell'd to their thirtieth year. At length a prospect open'd-but alas! Long time must yet, before the union, pass; Rupert was call'd in other clime, to increase Another's wealth, and toil for future peace; Loth were the lovers; but the aunt declared 'Twas fortune's call, and they must be prepared; "You now are young, and for this brief delay, "And Dinah's care, what I bequeath will pay; "All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that sigh, "The kind must suffer, and the best must die; Then came the cough, and strong the signs it gave, Of holding long contention with the grave. Procrastination, page1.

ELEGY,

IN childhood, when the dictates of the heart,
Sacred to truth, the artless lips declare,
We lisped our mutual loves; and, when apart,
Sighed for the hour we might together share.
O we did love! and each revolving year

But served to give our gentle love encrease;
To render" each to other" still more dear,
Whileo'er our hours reigned calm content and peace.
Then Fancy waved her fairy wand so gay,

And pictured only blisses to our view;

Hope with eternal sunshine cheered our way;

Joy strewed our path with flowers of liveliest hue. And Love his roseate bondage gentle wove

Round our young hearts, and lit so bright a flame
We seemed to taste the bliss of saints above;
Our lives a sweet identity became.

Thrice happy days! when, all to care unknown,
Our souls partook the pure delights of love.
Alas! those days so bright with joy are flown,
And now the sad reverse we're doomed to prove.
What was to us the world or worldly care?

We were each other's earthly happiness!
Then heaven and rapture only did we share,

For then, oh then, we had not known distress! We knew not then that 't were a crime to love, Or that our passion could admit of blame; Then did that power our guileless bliss approve, That now with stern control would quench the flame, Oh never, never be that flame subdued!

Kindled by Innocence 't will e'er burn clear, Nor interest nor duty e'er intrude

To crush the love to truth, to virtue, dear.

No! registered in heaven, whence it sprung,

Pure and unfettered shall our love endure; And that which forms our chiefest joy now. young, In age, in death, shall be alike secure.

W. E. Jun.

TO SERENITY.

OH, gentle muse! inspire my lay
With strains as mild as breath of May;
I only ask a lambent fire,

Such as may tranquil thoughts inspire;
I dare not hope my feeble soul

Shall ever feel its vision roll

"From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth;" To uncreated things give birth;

And, full of energy divine,

Like Delphic priestess at her shrine,
Speak things by inspiration taught,
And pour the fervid glow of thought.
Far other strains befit the mind
By mediocrity confined;

In humble verse 1 woo the maid
Who lives retired in rural shade,
And likes to walk the woods among
And listen to the blackbird's song.

Come, mild eyed maid! with sober air,
No longer young, but passing fair;
Come, dear Serenity, nor fear
To find a tender welcome here.

I own, a stranger to thy worth,
1 once preferred thy rival, Mirth!
Forgive the fault; in truth 'tis plain
That fault can ne'er return again.
At fifty, time hath cooled the blood,
And made thy merits understood.
No more with ardent passions vexed,
No more by hopes and fears perplexed;
Contented to be free from care,
I ask but thee, sweet pensive fair.
Then come, and banish noisy folly,
And still more baneful melancholy,
Thy mortal foes:-quick send them hence,
And bring thy handmaids, peace and sense,
Bring tranquil pleasures, calm, refined,
That soothe, not agitate, the mind.

Tumultuous joys to youth belong,
Enough for me to chant the song,
And whilst I form my humble lays
I feel thy power, and sing thy praise.

GRACIA,

LINES.

Inclosed in a Work Basket, manufactured at the Blind
School, Bristol, and presented by the Author
to her Neice.

PAUSE, little girl, and bear in mind,
That I, who made this toy, am blind!
Ah think, dear child, no precious light
E'er breaks upon my darkened sight;
No change of scene, from morn to eve,
Can e'er my tedious hours relieve.
Parents I have, who love me much,
Alas! I know them but by touch!
Brothers and sisters too have I,
Their voices tell me when they're by ;
But I their features ne'er can see,
Though oft they kiss and fondle me.
Ah, favoured child! still bear in mind,
That I, who made this toy am blind!
And while you feel for my defect,
On your superior bliss reflect!
No envious film your sense confines,
When the bright sun resplendent shines;
No endless night your time consumes,
But light with shade its turn resumes.
Then ne'er let peevish discontent
Your constant gratitude prevent,
Let no ill humours darken you,
Or cloud the sunshine of your view;
But look around, your friends you see,
Ah gaze on them, and pity me!
And while it lasts, still bear in mind,
That I who made this toy, an blind!

CELIA.

• This excellent Institution is supported by subscription.

THE ROSE AND BUTTERFLY. A FABLE.
Aptari inferiora magnis licet. ... Ovid

AT day's early dawn a gay butterfly spied
A budding young rose, and he wish'd her his bride:
She blush'd when she heard him his passion declare,
And tenderly told him he need not despair.
Their faith was soon plighted; as lovers will do,
He swore to be constant, she vow'd to be true.

It had not been prudent to deal with delay,
The bloom of a rose passes quickly away,
And the pride of a butterfly dies in a day.
When wedded, away the wing'd gentleman hies,
From floweret to floweret he wantonly flies.
Nor did he revisit his bride, 'till the sun

Had less than one-fourth of his journey to run, The rose thus reproach'd him—“Already so cold! "How feign'd, you false one, the passion you told! ""Tis an age since you left me:"she meant a few hours, But such we 'll suppose the fond language of flowers: "I saw when you gave the base violet a kiss,

"How, how could you stoop to a meanness like this! "Shall a low little wretch, whom we roses despise, "Find favour of love! in my butterfly's eyes? "On a tulip, quite tawdry, I saw your fond rape, "Nor yet could the pitiful primrose escape : "Dull daffodils, too, were with ardour address'd, “And poppies, ill scented, you kindly caress'd.”

The coxcomb was piqu'd, and replied with a sneer, "That you're first to complain,I commend you,my dear! "But know, from your conduct my maxims I drew, "And if I'm inconstant, I copy from you.

"I saw the boy Zephyrus rifle your charms, "I saw how you simper'd and smiled in his arms, "The honey bee kiss'd you, you cannot disown, "You favour'd besides-O dishonour! a drone: "Yet worse-'tis a crime that you must not deny, "Your sweets were made common, false rose! to a fly."

MORAL.

This law, long ago, did love's providence make, That ev'ry coquet should be cursed with a rake. Bristol, Dec. 1820.

B. O.