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Thee, best beloved! the virgin train await
With songs and festal rites, and joy to rove

Thy blooming wilds among,
And vales and dewy lawns,

With untired feet; and cull thy earliest sweets

To weave fresh garlands for the glowing brow

Of him, the favoured youth

That prompts their whispered sigh.

Unlock thy copious stores,—those tender showers
That drop their sweetness on the infant buds;

And silent dews that swell

The milky ear's green stem,

And feed the flowering osier's early shoots ;
And call those winds which through the whispering boughs

With warm and pleasant breath

Salute the blowing flowers.

Now let me sit beneath the whitening thorn,

And mark thy spreading tints steal o'er the dale ;

And watch with patient eye

Thy fair unfolding charms.

O nymph, approach! while yet the temperate sun With bashful forehead through the cool moist air

Throws his young maiden beams,

And with chaste kisses wooes

The earth's fair bosom ; while the streaming veil

Of lucid clouds with kind and frequent shade

Protects thy modest blooms

From his severer blaze.

Sweet is thy reign, but short :--The red dog-star
Shall scorch thy tresses, and the mower's scythe

Thy greens, thy flowerets all,
Remorseless shall destroy.

Reluctant shall I bid thee then farewell :

For 0, not all that Autumn's lap contains,

Nor Summer's ruddiest fruits,

Can aught for thee atone,

Fair Spring! whose simplest promise more delights Than all their largest wealth, and through the heart

Each joy and new-born hope

With softest influence breathes.

EPITHALAMIUM*.

VIRGin, brighter than the morning,
Haste and finish thy adorning !
Hymen claims his promised day,—
Come from thy chamber, come away!

Roses strew, and myrtles bring,
Till
you

drain the wasted Spring ;The altars are already drest,

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* Designed for the opening of a Tragedy.

The shifting colours prove by turns
The torch of Love unsteady burns.

Pleading now, now lingering, fainting,
Her soft heart with fear is panting ;-
Cling not to thy mother so,
Thy mother smiles, and bids thee go.

Mind not what thy maidens say;

Though they chide the cruel day,
Though they weep, and strive to hold thee

From his arms that would enfold thee;

Kiss, and take a short farewell,—

They wish the chance to them befell.

Mighty Love demands his crown
Now for all his sufferings done ;
For all Love's tears, for all his sighs,
Thyself must be the sacrifice.
Virgin, brighter than the day,
Haste from thy chamber, come away!

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