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THE WOOD NYMPH.
SAW you the Wood-nymph pass this way,
While the breeze plays with her beautiful hair?
That tempers vivacity in her fair form;
Like Dian she moves, but her lovely face
She bounded along like the gentle fawn
Through the glade, then rapidly glided away : Thus vanish the fairies at break of dawn,
When their revels have ended beneath the moon's ray.
EX FUMO DARE LUCEM."
CIGAR, thou comfort of my life,
It soothes me when my heart's at strife
Blue devils rush before my sight;
Turns devils into angels bright :
A self-complacency that creeps
At every whiff, a gentle heat
Like that of Love within me glows:
When other consolations fail,
Thou better art than-Wright's Champagne!
WRITTEN ON A FINE MORNING.
"The morn is up, by heavens! a lovely morn,
ANOTHER Morn will rise
With splendour on its wings,
Away! While beauty flings
A thousand colours o'er
The earth, they reappear:
Yet thou wilt never more
Our hearts exulting cheer.
Sweet morn, on balmy gales
Where dost thou speed thy flight?
To worlds where Love prevails
And wantons with Delight;
Where ever-blooming Youth,
With Pleasure at his side,
Then, gentle morn, awhile
Thy odours let me breathe: Heaven seems above to smile, 'Tis Paradise beneath.
Flowers freshly gemm'd with dew In tears entreat thy stay;
And birds of every hue
Sing "Why so soon away?"
The massy woods, whose deep
Thy rose-hues, lovely morn!
Wilt thou the world forsake?