Though soft the strain, that seeks to tell The transports of connubial bliss;

More soft the lip's delightful swell,

And sweeter far, its glowing kiss:

But far be every eye profane!

Avaunt! the loose, licentious throng; 'Tis Hymen wakes my raptured strain ; To him I pour the pleasing song.

The sacred joys that Love inspires,
When Hymen plumes his dewy wing,
His hallowed rites-his mystic fires,
No pen but his should dare to sing.

His torch diffuses lasting light;

His fragrant myrtles never fade; For young-eyed Hope in radiance bright, Surrounds Time's distant evening shade.

Such

pure and lasting bliss be thine! So prays the bard, in artless strain,

Who oft has bowed at Friendship's shrine,

But ne'er at Mammon's gilded fane.

THE

HEBREW PILGRIM'S SONG.

FROM the land of the brave, in the midst of the ocean,
Whose sun o'er my cradle with splendor had shone,
I wandered, impelled by my heart's pure devotion,
O'er SALEM's sad ruins to ponder alone.

Oh! long was my journey! and dire were its dangers, With tempests and rude mountain billows at war; But barb'rous IBERIA's uncircumcised strangers,

Are more unrelenting-more cruel by far.

Condemned by her priests, in their dungeons to languish,
I thought of the land I had left far behind;
When slumber beguiled the long hour of its anguish,
The dreams that descended were dear to my mind;

For then, lovely ZION! thy glory returning,

I saw thee as erst, ere the spoiler arose ;

So bright was the vision, it soothed me when mourning, And the picture unveiled, promised joy, and repose.

Yes, SALEM! I saw thy loved temple ascending,

AS LEBANON, lofty, majestic, and bold;

The smoke of thy offerings, with morning was blending, From priests clothed in white, with their censers of gold.

And sure it shall be-thou dear land of my fathers!
For HE who is MIGHTY delights in thy dust;
When from isles of the sea all His children he gathers,
All those who like ABRAM, his promises trust.

For me, when temptations were thickening around me,
In the dark hour of danger I called on His name;
In the depths of my dungeon, His saving health found me ;
My foes were confounded, and covered with shame.

'Twas the land of my birth that directed her thunder; The priests and the rulers were struck with dismay: I arose in my cell-while my chains fell asunder,

And with tears of delight I beheld the bright day.

And surely, JERUS'LEM, my eyes shall behold thee,

Now, that each morning sun sees me nearer my home; For HE who hath promised, shall build and uphold thee; Dear SALEM, rejoice! thy redemption shall come!

THE

VICTORY OF TRAFALGAR.

As Freedom on the viewless gales,
Looked from her bright etherial car,

On Austria's wide extended vales,

She marked the mingling hosts of war:

Her

eye was like the ray of morn,

Celestial light around her burned;

Aloft, on beamy pinions borne,

Far to the west, her course she turned:

Descending on Iberia's shore,

She leaned on Calpe's height sublime ; While British thunder's awful roar

Re-echoed o'er the trembling clime.