When the fair one, and the dear one
Appears in morning dreams,
In flowing vest, by fancy drest-
And all the angel beams-
The heavenly mien, and look serene,
Confess her from above;

While rising sighs, and dewy eyes,
Say, that's the hour of love!

EDINBURGH.

A. M,

THE SETTING SUN.

WHEN rosy Eve revives the fragrant hours,
And heavenly dews refresh the closing flowers,
And birds, with melting music, drop to rest,
The Sun, how radiant! in the purple west;
O'er Devon's waving hills and dales I stray,
To catch the lustre of his parting ray:
Now, o'er the vale in shade, I brush the dew,
Now, on the hill, again his orb I view :
As I descend, or rise, I lose or gain
The vision, till he sinks beyond the main,
Relumes, on western isles, the morning light,
And yields this nether realm to starry night.
Is life not varied thus with lights and shades,
Till in the night of death the prospect fades?

W. EVANS,

WRITTEN,

AFTER HAVING SEEN A LOVELY BUT MISERABLE

GIRL.

BY MISS A. M. PORTER.

SLIGHT was her form, and graceful; as she pass'd,
Mine eye fell on her, and with quick surprize
Recoil'd; for the few garments that she wore
Blew torn on the cold wind, and scarcely clothed
The beauties they so sullied: O'er her neck
(Sicklied with primrose tint) her jetty locks
Fell rich but rudely, whilst her mournful eyes
Beam'd thro' a watery lustre. She was form'd
In Nature's kindliness; and tho' the rose
No longer melted in her cheek, nor blushed
With deepen'd brilliance on her lip, yet still
Unnumber'd graces deck'd her, and look'd forth
At every feature-thro' her rags there shone
The wreck of better days. "Alas! said I,
(While

my tears fell, and my looks follow'd her) Poor Loveliness! these charms which now attract "Passing attention, once perchance have graced "The social hearth, and o'er domestic joys "Cast a pure splendour:-Haply, o'er thy face "Some aged sire hath hung, and weakly deem'd "That heaven had given thee beauty, to be great: "And some fond, timid lover, thrilling shrunk

"From thine eye's virtuous radiance, thinking still, "Himself too poor, to be thy virtue's meed.— "That beauty thus has sunk thee, thus hath driven "Peace, health, and innocence away, and left "The temple of thy God, thy spotless soul, "To be a brothel house, for want and vice. "E'en whilst my tears drop o'er the expressive pain "Which thy soft eyes are shooting, my chill'd heart "Shrinks from the wanton step, the asking mien.— "O, would to God! that thou wert once again "Such as thou wert, while yet a stainless child! "Tho' it should be thy fate to beg thy bread, "And steep the hard-earn'd bit in bitter tears: "Tho' a poor wretched outcast, thou should'st still "Hunger all day, and then at night repose "Cold on some lonely common; tho' no tongue "Should ever on thine ear, or aching heart, "Pour the warm tide of pity-still, O! still, "It would be better far to wander thus "Than to remain the slave of selfish vice, "The victim of the passions. Ah! thy reign. "Hath been but brief; thy wonderous beauty's power "Hath fail'd, perchance, because thy heart retained "Strong memory of its virtue, and too oft

"Cast clouds o'er thy spent spirits, and denied "The power, to deck with mirth each riot scene. "Unhappy girl! a female eye shall shed

"Those tears for thee, which ought, in drops of blood,
"To fall from thy seducer. Shame, O world!
"That man, thus privileged to ruin souls,

"Shall rove about undaunted; whilst the wretch
"Whom he hath made must either die unseen,
"Or plunge in deeper guilt, and fall for ever!",

ZEPHYR.

BY C. LEFTLY, ESQ.

ZEPHYR! whither are you straying,
Tell me where?

With prankish girls in gardens playing,
False as fair?

A butterfly's light back bestriding,
Queen-bees to honey-suckles guiding,
Or in a swinging hare bell riding,
Free from care?

Before Aurora's car you amble
High in air;

At noon, when Neptune's sea nymphs gambol,

Braid their hair;

When on the tumbling billows rolling,

Or on the smooth sands idly strolling,

Or in cool grottoes they lie lolling,
You sport there.

To chace the moon-beams up the mountains

You prepare;

Or dance with elves on brinks of fountains,
Mirth to share;

Now seen with love-lorn lillies weeping,
Now with a blushing rose-bud sleeping,
While fays from forth their chambers peeping,
Cry, ô rare!

TO MRS. SIDDONS.

BY MISS SEWARD.

SIDDONS! when first commenc'd thy ardent course,
The Powers that guard the Drama's awful shrine,
Beauty, and Grandeur, Tenderness, and Force,
Silence that speaks, and Eloquence divine,
For thee erected that approachless Throne,
None may or hope to conquer or to share;
And all our subject Passions trembling own
Each various Sense subdued, and captive there.
Yet the heart says-" Respect a rival claim,
"A claim that rises in unvanquish'd strife,
"Behold, dividing still the palm of Fame,
"Her radiant Science and her spotless Life!”