And eke with painful fingers she inwove
Many an uncouth stem of savage thorn-
The willow garland, that was for her love,

And these her bleeding temples would adorn.
With sighs her heart nigh burst, salt tears fast fell,
As mournfully she bended o'er that sacred well.
To whom when I addressed myself to speak,
She lifted up her eyes, and nothing said;
The delicate red came mantling o'er her cheek,
And, gathering up her loose attire, she fled
To the dark covert of that woody shade,
And in her goings seemed a timid gentle maid.
Revolving in my mind what this should mean,
And why that lovely lady plainèd so;
Perplexed in thought at that mysterious scene,
And doubting if 'twere best to stay or go,

I cast mine eyes in wistful gaze around,

When from the shades came slow a small and plaintive sound:

"PSYCHE1 am I, who love to dwell

In these brown shades, this woody dell,

Where never busy mortal came,

Till now, to pry upon my shame.

"At thy feet what thou dost see
The waters of repentance be,

Which, night and day, I must augment
With tears, like a true penitent,

"If haply so my day of grace

Be not yet past; and this lone place,
O'ershadowy, dark, excludeth hence
All thoughts but grief and penitence."

Why dost thou weep, thou gentle maid?
And wherefore in this barren shade

Thy hidden thoughts with sorrow feed?
Can thing so fair repentance need?”
"OI have done a deed of shame,
And tainted is my virgin fame,

And stained the beauteous maiden white
In which my bridal robes were dight."
"And who the promised spouse declare,
And what those bridal garments were?
"Severe and saintly righteousness
Composed the clear white bridal dress ;
JESUS, the son of Heaven's high King,
Bought with His blood the marriage-ring.

1 The soul.

"A wretched sinful creature, I
Deemed lightly of that sacred tie,
Gave to a treacherous WORLD my heart,
And played the foolish wanton's part.

"Soon to these murky shades I came,
To hide from the sun's light my shame.
And still I haunt this woody dell,
And bathe me in that healing well,
Whose waters clear have influence
From sin's foul stains the soul to cleanse;

"And night and day I them augment
With tears, like a true penitent,
Until, due expiation made,

And fit atonement fully paid,

The Lord and Bridegroom me present,
Where in sweet strains of high consent,
God's throne before, the Seraphim

Shall chaunt the ecstatic marriage hymn."

"Now Christ restore thee soon"-I said,
And thenceforth all my dream was fled.

A BALLAD

NOTING THE DIFFERENCE OF RICH AND POOR, IN THE WAYS OF A RICH NOBLE'S PALACE AND A POOR WORKHOUSE.

To the tune of the "Old and Young Courtier."

IN a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold;
In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold :
There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire,
Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their desire.

In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine,
They have store of good venison, with old canary wine,
With singing and music to heighten the cheer;
Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare.

In a costly palace Youth is still carest

By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest ;
In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails:

Does Age begin to prattle ?-no man heark'neth to his tales.

In a costly palace if the child with a pin

Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in ; In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish

For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish.

In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust;

In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust,

Thinks upon the former days, when he was well to do,

Had children to stand by him, both friends and kinsmen too.

In a costly palace Youth his temples hides

With a new-devised peruke that reaches to his sides;

In a wretched workhouse Age's crown is bare,

With a few thin locks just to fence out the cold air.

In peace, as in war, 'tis our young gallants' pride

To walk each one i' the streets with a rapier by his side,
That none to do them injury may have pretence;
Wretched Age, in poverty, must brook offence.

HYPOCHONDRIACUS.

By myself walking
To myself talking,
When as I ruminate
On my untoward fate,
Scarcely seem I
Alone sufficiently,
Black thoughts continually
Crowding my privacy;
They come unbidden,
Like foes at a wedding,
Thrusting their faces
In better guests' places,
Peevish and malecontent,
Clownish, impertinent,
Dashing the merriment;
So in like fashions
Dim cogitations

Follow and haunt me,

Striving to daunt me,

In my heart festering,

In my ears whispering,
"Thy friends are treacherous,
Thy foes are dangerous,
Thy dreams ominous."

Fierce Anthropophagi,
Spectra, Diaboli,
What sacred St. Anthony,
Hobgoblins, Lemures,
Dreams of Antipodes,
Night-riding Incubi
Troubling the fantasy,
All dire illusions
Causing confusions;
Figments heretical,
Scruples fantastical,
Doubts diabolical;
Abaddon vexeth me,

Mahu perplexeth me,
Lucifer teareth me-

Jesu! Maria! liberate nos ab his diris tentationibus Inimici.

A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.

MAY the Babylonish curse

Straight confound my stammering verse,

If I can a passage see

In this word-perplexity,

Or a fit expression find,
Or a language to my mind
(Still the phrase is wide or scant),

To take leave of thee, GREAT PLANT!
Or in any terms relate

Half my love, or half my hate :
For I hate yet love thee so,
That, whichever thing I show,
The plain truth will seem to be
A constrained hyperbole,
And the passions to proceed

More from a mistress than a weed.

Sooty retainer to the vine,
Bacchus' black servant, negro fine;
Sorcerer, that mak'st us dote upon
Thy begrimed complexion,
And, for thy pernicious sake,
More and greater oaths to break

Than reclaimèd lovers take

'Gainst women: thou thy siege dost lay

Much too in the female way,

While thou suck'st the lab'ring breath
Faster than kisses or than death.

Thou in such a cloud dost bind us,

That our worst foes cannot find us,

And ill fortune, that would thwart us,

Shoots at rovers, shooting at us;

While each man, through thy height'ning steam,

Does like a smoking Etna seem,

And all about us does express

(Fancy and wit in richest dress)

A Sicilian fruitfulness.

Thou through such a mist dost show us,

That our best friends do not know us,

And, for those allowèd features,

Due to reasonable creatures,
Liken'st us to fell Chimeras-
Monsters that, who see us, fear us;
Worse than Cerberus or Geryon,
Or, who first loved a cloud, Ixion.

Bacchus we know, and we allow
His tipsy rites. But what art thou,
That but by reflex canst show
What his deity can do,
As the false Egyptian spell
Aped the true Hebrew miracle?

Some few vapours thou may'st raise,
The weak brain may serve to amaze,
But to the reins and nobler heart
Canst nor life nor heat impart.

Brother of Bacchus, later born,
The old world was sure forlorn
Wanting thee, that aidest more
The god's victories than before
All his panthers, and the brawls
Of his piging Bacchanals.
These, as stale, we disallow,
Or judge of the meant: only thou
His true Indian conquest art;
And, for ivy round his dart,
The reformed god now weaves
A finer thyrsus of thy leaves.

Scent to match thy rich perfume
Chemic art did ne'er presume
Through her quaint alembic strain,
None so sovereign to the brain.
Nature, that did in thee excel,
Framed again no second smell.
Roses, violets, but toys
For the smaller sort of boys,
Or for greener damsels meant ;
Thou art the only manly scent.

Stinking'st of the stinking kind,
Filth of the mouth and fog of the mind,
Africa, that brags her foison,
Breeds no such prodigious poison,
Henbane, nightshade, both together,
Hemlock, aconite-

Nay, rather,

Plant divine, of rarest virtue;

Blisters on the tongue would hurt you. 'Twas but in a sort I blamed thee;

None e'er prospered who defamed thee;

Irony all, and feigned abuse,

Such as perplexed lovers use

At a need, when, in despair

To paint forth their fairest fair,
Or in part but to express
That exceeding comeliness

Which their fancies doth so strike,
They borrow language of dislike;
And, instead of Dearest Miss,
Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss,