LOVE'S LAST ADIEU.

Αει, δ' αει με φευγει.—ANACREON.

THE roses of love glad the garden of life,

Though nurtured 'mid weeds dropping pestilent dew,

Till time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, prunes them for ever, in love's last adieu!

Or

In vain with endearments we soothe the sad heart,
In vain do we vow for an age to be true;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
Or death disunite us in love's last adieu!

Still Hope, breathing peace through the grief-swollen breast,

Will whisper, "Our meeting we yet may renew:" With this dream of deceit half our sorrow's represt, Nor taste we the poison of love's last adieu!

Oh! mark you yon pair: in the sunshine of youth Love twined round their childhood his flow'rs as they grew;

They flourish awhile in the season of truth,

Till chill'd by the winter of love's last adieu!

Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way Down a cheek which outrivals thy bosom in hue?

Yet why do I ask? - to distraction a prey,

Thy reason has perish'd with love's last adieu !

Oh! who is yon misanthrope, shunning mankind?
From cities to caves of the forest he flew :
There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind;
The mountains reverberate love's last adieu!

Now hate rules a heart which in love's easy chains Once passion's tumultuous blandishments knew; Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins; He ponders in frenzy on love's last adieu !

How he envies the wretch with a soul wrapt in steel! His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few, Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel, And dreads not the anguish of love's last adieu!

Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o'ercast;

No more with love's former devotion we sue: He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of affection is love's last adieu!

In this life of probation for rapture divine,
Astrea declares that some penance is due;
From him who has worshipp'd at love's gentle shrine,
The atonement is ample in love's last adieu!

Who kneels to the god, on his altar of light
Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew:
His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight;

His cypress, the garland of love's last adieu!

DAMÆTÁS.

IN law an infant (1), and in years a boy,
In mind a slave to every vicious joy;

From every sense of shame and virtue wean'd;
In lies an adept, in deceit a fiend;

Versed in hypocrisy, while yet a child;

Fickle as wind, of inclinations wild;
Woman his dupe, his heedless friend a tool;
Old in the world, though scarcely broke from school;
Damætas ran through all the maze of sin,
And found the goal when others just begin:
Even still conflicting passions shake his soul,
And bid him drain the dregs of pleasure's bowl;
But, pall'd with vice, he breaks his former chain,
And what was once his bliss appears his bane. (2)

TO MARION.

MARION! why that pensive brow?
What disgust to life hast thou?

(1) In law every person is an infant who has not attained the age of twenty-one.

(2) "When I went up to Trinity, in 1805, at the age of seventeen and a half, I was miserable and untoward to a degree. I was wretched at leaving Harrow-wretched at going to Cambridge instead of Oxford - wretched from some private domestic circumstances of different kinds; and, consequently, about as unsocial as a wolf taken from the troop." Diary. Mr. Moore adds, "The sort of life which young Byron led at this period, between the dissipations of London and of Cambridge, without a home to welcome, or even the roof of a single relative to receive him, was but little calculated to render him satisfied either with himself or the world. Unrestricted as he was by deference to any will but his own, even the pleasures to which he was naturally most inclined prematurely palled upon him, for want of those best zests of all enjoyment - rarity and restraint."

Change that discontented air;
Frowns become not one so fair.
'Tis not love disturbs thy rest,
Love's a stranger to thy breast;
He in dimpling smiles appears,
Or mourns in sweetly timid tears,
Or bends the languid eyelid down,
But shuns the cold forbidding frown.
Then resume thy former fire,
Some will love, and all admire;
While that icy aspect chills us,
Nought but cool indifference thrills us.
Wouldst thou wandering hearts beguile,
Smile at least, or seem to smile.
Eyes like thine were never meant
To hide their orbs in dark restraint;
Spite of all thou fain wouldst say,
Still in truant beams they play.
Thy lips - but here my modest Muse

Her impulse chaste must needs refuse:

She blushes, curt'sies, frowns, in short she
Dreads lest the subject should transport me;
And flying off in search of reason,
Brings prudence back in proper season.
All I shall therefore say (whate'er

I think, is neither here nor there)

Is, that such lips, of looks endearing,

Were form'd for better things than sneering
Of soothing compliments divested,

Advice at least's disinterested;
Such is my artless song to thee,
From all the flow of flattery free;

Counsel like mine is as a brother's,
My heart is given to some others;
That is to say, unskill'd to cozen,
It shares itself among a dozen.
Marion, adieu! oh, pr'ythee slight not
This warning, though it may delight not;
And, lest my precepts be displeasing
To those who think remonstrance teasing,
At once I'll tell thee our opinion
Concerning woman's soft dominion:
Howe'er we gaze with admiration
On eyes of blue or lips carnation,
Howe'er the flowing locks attract us,
Howe'er those beauties may distract
Still fickle, we are prone to rove,
These cannot fix our souls to love:
It is not too severe a stricture
To say they form a pretty picture;
But wouldst thou see the secret chain
Which binds us in your humble train,
To hail you queens of all creation,
Know, in a word, 'tis ANIMATION.

us,

TO A LADY

WHO PRESENTED TO THE AUTHOR A LOCK OF HAIR BRAIDED

WITH HIS OWN, AND APPOINTED A NIGHT IN DECEMBER TO

MEET HIM IN THE GARDEN. (1)

THESE locks, which fondly thus entwine,

In firmer chains our hearts confine,

(1) See ante, p. 54. note.