Yes; let each rapture, dear to Nature, flee:

Close not the light of Fortune's stormy seaMirth, Music, Friendship, Love's propitious smile, Chase every care, and charm a little while, Ecstatic throbs the fluttering heart employ,

And all her strings are harmonized to joy!

No! not the quaint remark, the sapient rule,

Nor all the pride of Wisdom's worldly school,

Have power to soothe, unaided and alone,

The heart that vibrates to a feeling tone!

When stepdame Nature every bliss recalls,
Fleet as the meteor o'er the desert falls;

When, 'reft of all, yon widow'd sire appears

A lonely hermit in the vale of

years;

Say, can the world one joyous thought bestow To Friendship, weeping at the couch of Woe! No! but a brighter soothes the last adieu,

Souls of impassion'd mould, she speaks to you! Weep not, she says, at Nature's transient pain,

Congenial spirits part to meet again!

What plaintive sobs thy filial spirit drew,

What sorrow choked thy long and last adieu!

Daughter of Conrad! when he heard his knell,

And bade his country and his child farewell! Doom'd the long isles of Sydney-cove to see, The martyr of his crimes, but true to thee? Thrice the sad father tore thee from his heart, And thrice return'd, to bless thee, and to part; Thrice from his trembling lips he murmur'd low

The plaint that own'd unutterable woe;

Till Faith, prevailing o'er his sullen doom,

As bursts the morn on night's unfathom'd gloom, Lured his dim eye to deathless hopes sublime,

Beyond the realms of Nature and of Time !

"And weep not thus," he cried, "young Ellenore, My bosom bleeds, but soon shall bleed no more!