And, tho' there ne'er was transport given
Like Psyche's with that radiant boy,
Here is the only face in heaven,
That wears a cloud amid its joy.
A JOKE VERSIFIED.
"Come, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life,
"There's no longer excuse for thus playing the rake—
"It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife"—
"Why, so it is, father—whose wife shall I take?"
ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.
Pure as the mantle, which, o'er him who stood
By Jordan's stream, descended from the sky,
Is that remembrance which the wise and good
Leave in the hearts that love them, when they die.
So pure, so precious shall the memory be,
Bequeathed, in dying, to our souls by thee—
So shall the love we bore thee, cherisht warm
Within our souls thro' grief and pain and strife,
Be, like Elisha's cruse, a holy charm,
Wherewith to "heal the waters" of this life!
TO JAMES CORRY, ESQ.
ON HIS MAKING ME A PRESENT OF A WINE STRAINER.
BRIGHTON, JUNE, 1825.
This life, dear Corry, who can doubt?—
Resembles much friend Ewart's[1] wine,
When first the rosy drops come out,
How beautiful, how clear they shine!
And thus awhile they keep their tint,
So free from even a shade with some,
That they would smile, did you but hint,
That darker drops would ever come.