ODE.

LET the sons of Lucre pine For glittering heaps of golden ore, To swell the' accumulated store, Contemn the terrors of the mine; Explore the caverns dark and drear, Mantled around with deadly dew; Where congregated vapours blue, Fired by the taper glimmering near, Bid dire explosion the deep realms invade, And earth-born lightnings gleam athwart the' in

fernal shade.

Pride, on thy vesture's purple fold,
Let the sky-tinctured sapphire blaze,
The emerald shed its milder rays,
And rubies blush in circling gold:
Low at thy nod let suppliants bow,
And crested chiefs precedence yield;
Thy hand the rod of empire wield,
And wreaths of triumph grace thy brow.

A nobler aim let my ambition own,
Be Love my empire, Lesbia's heart my throne!

Where into rage the wintry blast
Awakes old Ocean's slumbering wave,
Let Commerce urge her busy slave,
And elevate his trembling mast
Above the billowy precipice,
To meet the forked lightning's flash;
Then down the' adventurous vessel dash,
Foundering within the black abyss:

Or let his freight secure the surges sweep, And of their prey defraud the monsters of the deep:

VOL. III.

X

My bark the tide of young desire, O Venus, to thy happy realm Shall waft, fair Hope direct the helm, Love's sighs the swelling sails inspire; To thee, bright offspring of the wave, I'll many an amorous vow prefer: From storms of hate thy mariner And blast of chill indifference save! So to thy power I'll frame the votive lay, And, moor'd in Lesbia's arms, confess thy sove

reign sway.

Amid ensanguined fields of war, Valour, be thy votary found; Where crimson banners wave around, The martial clarion, echoing far; In vain gigantic Terror calls His spectre shapes, a ghastly band: Nor Discord, hurling high his brand, Nor Danger's horrid front appals; Nor Death his fierce unconquer'd soul can tame, Or from his grasp withhold the glorious meed of

Fame.

But let me wander far away From the loud drum and neighing steed, Through many a pansie-painted mead, Where Isis' bright-hair'd Naiads stray; High o'er my head a pendent bower Let the broad elm and branching pine With intermingling umbrage twine; There Love's impassion'd song I'll pour, And summon every wave that dances near, Bridling his wanton speed my Lesbia's praise to Where the pale lamp's waning eye At eve, from out the cloister'd nook, Casts o'er the gloom a lingering look, There let the sage his labours ply; And many a feat of champion bold, And many a legendary rhyme Snatch from the sepulchre of Time, And frequent, as the night grows old, At fear-engender'd forms recoil aghast, And hear unhallow'd ghosts wail in each hollow

blast.

But o'er my haunts with influence bland Let evening fling her welcome shade : Then mid the dance, O beauteous maid! Let me thine unreluctant hand Enraptured seize: or let the lyre, Obedient to thy soft control, Bind in harmonious chains my soul, And ecstasy and bliss inspire; While to the charmed ear in heavenly strains, Enamour'd of thy touch, each trembling chord

complains.

Then, fairest, let my bosom feel Thy smile's exhilarating power, Grateful as, mid noon's sultry hour, The grot where trickling dews congeal : And, in the rich grape's purple tide When Joy and genial Pleasure swim, Do thou but kiss its crystal brim, And to the bard the goblet guide; So shall my song exalt thy praise above Hebe, who bids o'erflow the nectar'd cup of Jove.

REV. G. HUDDISFORD.

AMATORY ODE.

Now hath the Sun his evanescent fires

Quench'd in the billows of the western main; Cease their soft carols all the feather'd choirs, And gloomy solitude usurps the plain. Rise, ye deep shades, ye waves in darkness roll, Ye feather'd choirs, to silence yield the grove, For Lesbia sleeps: nor cheers my pensive soul The glance of rapture nor the voice of love. Ye winds, whose havoc-spreading pinions ply Their furious speed, and with dire yell invade This nether world, whose wasteful tyranny

Pale Dryads mourn in many a ruin'd shade; Wake not my love :-Let not your thundering cry With dread alarm the haunt of peace infest; Here breathe in soft Æolian melody

Each cadence sweet that charms the soul to rest. Ye spectres (whom belated pilgrims fear,

Issuing in throngs from charnel, vault, or tomb, What time deep shadowing clouds thy radiant

sphere,

Cynthia, involve in night's meridian gloom),
Hence to deserted fane or mouldering hall,
Or the gaunt felon's ruthless course control;
With monitory shriek the wretch appal,

And to compunction wake his torpid soul.
But walk not near the couch were Lesbia lies
Like some rich pearl in its enamel'd shell,
Or sainted relic, from profaner eyes
Secluded in the dim shrine's silver cell.

1

Wanton, ye fairies, round her tranquil bower,
With blissful elves fantastic measures tread;
O'er her soft eyelids dews of opiate pour,
Cull'd from choice blooms, in showers of fra-
grance shed:

Let your bright tapers' visionary ray

The raven-tinctured robe of Night illume; And, streaming o'er your spangled crests, display The wave-enamour'd halcyon's emerald plume.

And bid your minstrel fays, a shadowy choir, That charm the planets from their spheres sublime,

Celestial songs, that love and joy inspire,

Chant to their golden harps' harmonious chime.
And when morn's purple streaks the' horizon stain,
And fairies fly the peal of Chanticleer,
Let Fancy still your glittering hues retain,
Still let your wild notes tremble on her ear.
Then, Lesbia, wake thy beauties, fresher far
Than Galatea boasted when she laved
In the smooth deep her coral-axled car,
And the stern heart of Neptune's son enslaved.
Wake at his call, to soothe whose soul in vain
Morn sheds her radiant beam, her odorous airs,
Save when, attentive to his artless strain,

That radiant beam, those odours Lesbia shares.
He asks no laureate wreath to deck his brows,
No golden meed his bounded wishes claim,
Bless'd if the object of his tenderest vows
Smile on his lay-for Lesbia's smile is fame.

REV. G. HUDDISFORD.