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If to sooth her, I vow'd I respected her sense,
She'd frown and exclaim, it was all a pretence;.
66 Your indifference” she'd cry “too plainly appears,
“ Ah! why did I marry?" and then fell her tears.
In vain I endeavour'd to banish her gloom,
My feelings all tortur'd, she'd fly to her room;
I foolishly follow'd, with pain at my heart,
Though 'twere better I knew, to tarry apart.
There are who have firmness, when madam's a shrew,
To restrain all regard until she comes to;
There's no reasoning they say, with a female in rage,
'Tis fuel to fireman attempt to assuage;
I'd tap at her door, and say 6 'tis fine weather,
“My love, if you please, shall we walk out together?”
She'd pettishly answer, perhaps, merely--no,
Or, tis cold-or, I'm busy; or, why plague me so?
Chagrin'd, to my study should I repair,
And endeavour, by reading, to banish my care,
Perhaps when I'd been a few minutes alone,
And my mind thus reliev'd, almost tranquil had grown,

,
She'd enter, and urge that I cared not for her,
My own selfish pleasures resolv'd to prefer,
That she therefore henceforth consulting her ease,
She'd pursue what her fancy suggested would please;
Then the carriage she'd order, some visit to pay,
And to show how the mistress would have her own way,
If I offer'd to go, she'd be sure to deride,
She would not have me to her apron strings tied-
If I said not a word, 'twas my plan to neglect her,
In me she once hop'd to have found a protector.
If I went in the carriage, and wish'd her to cast
A view at the beautiful prospects we passid,
She'd pull down the screens, and exclaim with surprise,
That I 'suffer'd the glare to pain her weak eyes.
Then she'd sit in the corner, and answer me short,
If to subjects amusing I tried to resort.
If I did not go with her whene'er she return’d,
She notic'd me not, and my questions she spurn'd,

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Then after much pensiveness, sighing, ah me!
“ How happy, she'd say, some women can be,
“Mrs. Jerry my neighbour, how envied her life,
" Mr. Jerry conforms to each wish of his wife;
“If she mentions a thing, 'tis immediately bought,
“ He almost anticipates even her thought;
" Alas! 'tis my lot-but let me refrain,
“I'll suffer in silence, and scorn to complain,
“ It cannot last long-what a pain in my head!"
Then she'd ring for a candle, and languish to bed.
When I took my own side, I pass'd all the night,
Afraid to disturb her; nor thought of delight.
If I mov'd, she would shrink, and in anger protest,
That I did so on purpose to rob her of rest.
Next morning at breakfast my ear was aroused,
By regrets for the offers of titles refus'd,
Her foolish affection for me was so great,
She had no one to blame, she desery'd her sad fate.
The advice of her friends she heedlessly scorn'd,
She could not but own she was fully forewarn'd-
If a friend came to dinner, she'd pouting complain,
And desire she might never behold him again,
He was dull, or unpolish'd, or had some defect,
Or from me he had learnt to show her neglect;
When I from our boyhood would prove him my friend,
And endeavour his conduct and words to defend,
She'd reply, that by habit I partial was grown,
To the faults of my friend, as I was to my own.
Then, with satire and wit, most perfect by use,
She'd magnify foibles and merits reduce,
Till by traits disproportion'd, at length she was sure
To exhibit her skill in a caricature.
All attempts to appease her, I found sere in vain,
So though griev't oo the heart, wa foror? ta refrain
Thus treated my friends,

,
Sorne pile 1.50
Concessions tumayrogui
And each rising sun still augmented my sorrow.

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Thus piqued and thus harass'd, with firmness one day
I address'd her— My dear, I have tried every way
“ To render you happy, yet all is in vain,
« The more I endeavour, the more you complain:
“ Each expedient I've tried, that occurred to my mind,
“ Twere useless to argue, whose conduct's unkind,
“ Since we cannot live happy, we'd much better part,"
“ You are right, she exclaim'a, 'tis the wish of my heart,
“ I'll instantly go”-To a friend's house she went,
And soon for her things, by a servant she sent.
I sat moping alone, yet resolv'd on my plan,
Though I felt as a lover, I thought as a man.
She expected I'd come, and the quarrel deplore,
And seek reconcilement as practis'd before
Nay, though serious at last, and full of contrition,
Shame, pride and ill humour, prevented submission,
Thus in sad separation, we're doom'd to remain,
And never shall cherish each other again.
Good humour's the sunshine to brighten our days,
The balm of our being, which blessings conveys,
The main of existence with trifles is fill'd,
Each minute they act as drops are distill’d.
When a tender expression, a look or a smile
Can pleasure bestow, and sorrow beguile,
When a female can render a family blest,
Why will she capriciously make them distrest?
When a wife will more vex, as you more strive to please her,
What a hell upon earth is produc'd by a teazer.

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FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

SONG.

WHEN the heart that slowly dies
Struggles with unbidden sighs,
Sweet the melting lay that throws
Bland oblivion o'er its woes.
When o'er strings that long have bled,
When, o'er chords to pleasure dead,
Dulcet music softly steals,
Oh! what rapture Sorrow feels!
Lady, cease that strain divine
Mocks the bliss that once was mine!
Lady! such the look she wore:
Tune thy voice to love no more!
Lady! guard thy tender heart
From the syren's venom'd dart;
Though celestial bliss it brings,
Oh! how mad'ning are its stings!.
Touch the magic chords again:
Friendship shall employ the strain.
But the reign of love is o'er!
Tune thy voice to love no more!

'

OSCAR.

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Ah, thou art a brittle toy,
Sorrow's shaft too soon may chace thee
From the cheeks of sparkling Joy,
Time's rude touch may quick efface them

Child of Hope and nurs'd in blisses,
Sweetly, fondly strewing flowers,
Cherisher of love and kisses,
Blend thy magic with my hours.

Beaming smile like sparkling gem,
Flower cherished to betray-
Already Care has broke thy stem,
Thus our dearest joys decay.

LORIZO.

Newyork, February 15.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

The following versification was from the pen of a very young, an interesting woman, in reply to the solicitations of her family not to accompany her unfortunate husband into exile.

The lovely author of these lines, whose beauty can only be exceedd by her retiring modesty, is wholly unconscious of their publication, and we well know will blush at a celebrity which the accomplishments of her mind, th graces of her person, and the misfortunes of her destiny, have rendered inevtable.

Versification from the book of " Ruth"

INSCRIBED TO

Where'er thou goest, I will go,
O'er Egypt's sands, or Zembla's snow!
Where'er' thy weary eyelids close,
There will thy Charlotte seek repose;
Though on the naked earth we lie,
While tempests rule the darkning sky,

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