And now shall the Cot rise, a sweet rural palace,

My Nancy aye smiling, preside as its queen; New verdure shall bloom in our dear native vallies,

Their fields always fragrant-their groves ever green!* 'Midst domestic delights, peace, and plenty possessing; The bliss of my bosom each moment increasing; The fair form of Virtue with fondness caressing; I'll never more stray from the Cot in the Vale!

* Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green.-POPE.

ΤΟ

A PRIMROSE IN DECEMBER.

UNTIMELY stranger-hapless child,

With bosom to the morning spread,

Within this bleak unsheltered wild,

Too rashly hast thou raised thy head.

Short is the race thou hast to run;

No sweets remain for thee to share ;

Dim shines December's sickly sun,

And biting frost pervades the air.

Alas! no social joy is thine,

No kindred flower unfolds its bloom;

Alone, unheeded, thou must pine,

In cheerless Winter's midnight gloom.

Deceived by Autumn's transient gleam,
Perhaps, thy hope was fixed on May;
To bask in morning's dewy beam,

And smile the live-long Summer day.

Say, did'st thou comé, intent to bless,
Thy spotless bosom bless'd the while?
To meet the youngling's bland caress,
And share the village maiden's smile?

To shade the sky-lark's early nest,
Might well befit thy slender form ;
Or bend beneath her dewy breast,

To hide thee from an April storm!

It cannot be for thou must die!

The bitter blast approaches near; The storm is gathering in the sky,

That blots thee from the closing year.

Yet deem not thou shalt sink forgot,

Though shortly thou must cease to be;

Ah! gentle flower !—a kindred lot,

Will guide some mourner's thoughts to thee.

There are, like thee, who lift their eyes,
And gladly, hail the morning sun;
See fairy prospects round them rise,
Perennial pleasures just begun ;

They meet the smile of Virgin love;
Are blest in each domestic tye;
The sweets of fond Affection prove,
The dimpling cheek-the melting eye:

The sky seems cloudless and serene;
They hail Life's fair, untrodden way;
And deem, no cloud can intervene,

To shade Love's long, delightful day!

Such dreams there are, when life is newThe slumber breaks-the dream is fled! Man wakes a hapless change to view

Wild tempests howling o'er his head!

TO A YOUNG LADY;

After a walk in a beautiful Garden.

WHEN infant Time in Eden's blissful bowers, Adorned the scene with amaranthine flowers, Then whispering zephyrs wafted odours round; Celestial music breathed in every sound; Perpetual Spring, that smiled to cloudless skies, Spread countless sweets to Man's admiring eyes; The cool grove waved its branches, ever green, And perfect beauty graced the varied scene.

But sweeter far than flower, or shady grove, Appeared, the form of soul-subduing Love: The virgin blush, on Woman's cheek that glowed, The seraph sweetness, from her lips that flowed, Inspired new-bliss in Man's enraptured frame, And lighted up a never-dying flame;