Instant the cry was "Country Dance!"
And the maid saw with brightening face,
The Steward of the night advance,
And lead her to her birthright place.
The fiddles, which awhile had ceased,
Now tuned again their summons sweet,
And, for one happy night, at least,
Old England's triumph was complete.
[1] An old English country dance.
GAZEL.
Haste, Maami, the spring is nigh;
Already, in the unopened flowers
That sleep around us, Fancy's eye
Can see the blush of future bowers;
And joy it brings to thee and me,
My own beloved Maami!
The streamlet frozen on its way,
To feed the marble Founts of Kings,
Now, loosened by the vernal ray,
Upon its path exulting springs—
As doth this bounding heart to thee,
My ever blissful Maami!
Such bright hours were not made to stay;
Enough if they awhile remain,
Like Irem's bowers, that fade away.
From time to time, and come again.
And life shall all one Irem be
For us, my gentle Maami.
O haste, for this impatient heart,
Is like the rose in Yemen's vale,
That rends its inmost leaves apart
With passion for the nightingale;
So languishes this soul for thee,
My bright and blushing Maami!
LINES ON THE DEATH OF JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ., OF DUBLIN.
If ever life was prosperously cast,
If ever life was like the lengthened flow
Of some sweet music, sweetness to the last,
'Twas his who, mourned by many, sleeps below.