(BEING AN INTRODUCTION TO AN INTENDED VERSIFICATION OF ONE OF THE TALES OF BOCCACCIO.)
(For the Mirror.)
The young, fair Spring, is tripping o'er the Earth,
With feet that ne'er can know the lag of age;
The Earth, her lover, conscious of her worth,
Flings down all his rich treasures to engage
That blushing wanderer: but she journeys forth
Heedless of all his offerings. The hot rage
Of love shall scorch his heart in tortures fell,
Till Winter comes with many an icicle.