Edwin Delisle.

EDWIN DELISLE.

The battle was ended whose direful commotion
Gave tyrants the victims unclaim'd by the wave,
And the last ray of Phoebus illumin'd the ocean,
As it shot o'er the land of the ill-fated brave.
The western breeze wafted the ship o'er the main,
Far, far from their country and Liberty's smile;
Each captive enshackled with tyranny's chain,

The noblest of whom was young Edwin Delisle.

Apart from his comrades, his manly breast bleeding
With anguish too piercing for nature to bear,
Distracted he view'd his dear country receding,
And bade it adieu in a tone of despair.
"O region of happiness, freedom and peace!
Columbia, adieu ! not for Edwin you smile,
For soon with his sorrows existence must cease,
For rent is the heart of poor Edwin Delisle !

"Eliza! my angel! fate dooms us to sever,

Tho' brought to the climate that fosters thy charms; In sight of my country, I lose it for ever,

In view of my love, I am torn from her arms!

Three times have the seasons their circle fulfill'd, Since Edwin was blest with affection's sweet smile,

Since press'd to his bosom, Eliza he held,

As she sigh'd a farewell to her Edwin Delisle.

Edwin Delisle Autumnal Reflections.

"Three years shall restore me, I cried, as we parted; The term has expired, and my eye caught the shore; Hope flatter'd, then left to despair, broken-hearted,

The wretch for whom freedom and joy are no more. The shadows of eve shroud thy land from my view, But ah! there's another where joys ever smile! God of mercy, forgive me !-Eliza, adieu !"

He plung❜d-and the waves cover'd Edwin Delisle.

AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS.

The season of flowers is fled,

The pride of the garden decay'd,
The sweets of the meadow are dead,
And the blushing parterre disarray'd.

The blossom-deck'd garb of sweet May,
Enamell'd with hues of delight,

Is exchang'd for a mantle less gay,
And spangled with colours less bright.

For sober Pomona has won

The frolicsome Flora's domains,

And the work the gay goddess begun,
The height of maturity gains.

Autumnal Reflections.

But though less delightful to view,
The charms of ripe autumn appear,
Than spring's richly varied hue,
That infantile age of the year :

Yet

now, and now only, we prove
The uses by nature design'd;
The seasons were sanction'd to move,
To please less than profit mankind.

Regret the lost beauties of May,

But the fruits of those beauties enjoy ; The blushes that dawn with the day, Noon's splendour will ever destroy.

How pleasing, how lovely appears

Sweet infancy, sportive and gay;
Its prattle, its smiles, and its tears,
Like spring, or the dawning of day!

But manhood's the season design'd

For wisdom, for works, and for use;

To ripen the fruits of the mind,

Which the seeds sown in childhood produce.

Then infancy's pleasures regret,

But the fruits of those pleasures enjoy ;

Does spring autumn's bounty beget?

So the Man is begun in the Boy.

Definition of Beauty-imitated from the French.

ON BEAUTY.

First published in the "Complete Coiffeur."

Beauty, sweet mysterious power,

Secret spring of all that moves, Goddess of the Paphian bower, Mother of the infant loves;

Which can make the wicked good,
Savage sentiments abolish,

Melt the hard, refine the rude,

Teach the clown a courtier's polish;

Which can make the simple wise,
Or deprive the wise of reason;

Bid the statesman sink or rise,
Urge to loyalty and treason :-

Now exciting modest fear,

Now with lawless rudeness firing; Prompting to be faithless here,

There with constancy inspiring.

'Tis the power that banes or blesses, Where shall we its image find? "Tis the nymph whose eye expresses Charms belonging to the mind.

Address to a Nosegay.

TO A NOSEGAY.

Little pledge of fond remembrance,
Though thy tints so quickly flee,
Still the lovely donor's semblance,
I can sweetly trace in thee.

Here the rose and lily twining,
Her enchanting face bespeak,
For the fairest hues, combining,
Bloom upon her lovely cheek.

In this blushing pink which deck'd her, Glows an emblem of her lip,

Both distilling balmy nectar,

Both inviting mine to sip.

In this violet I discover

Her sweet eye's cerulean hue, Like the brightest star above her, Sparkling in ethereal blue.

When within my bounding bosom,
Mary plac'd ye, thus entwin'd,
Sweetly whispering," do not loose 'em,"
Then what rapture fill'd my mind!