Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
But , oh God ! with what anguish , what . , terrorshe flies , [ sin- descries When her father , all cove ' r'd with wci . m ! ., With her lover ' s pale corpse by his side : XXI . Hah"frantic she fell on her parent's cold breast , [ gore : And she bath'd her white bosom with
Then , in anguish , the form of young Theodore press'd— [ we will res ' , ' * I will yet be thy bride , in "he grave She exclaim'd ; and she suifer'd no more . XXII . Now o ' er the wild heath when the winter windsblo-. v , [ wave .
And the moon-silver'd fern branches Pale Theodore ' s specire is seen gliding slow , [ woe , As he calls on the damsel in accents of Till the bell warnshimback to his grave . XXIII . And while the deep sound echoes over the wood
, Now the villagers shrink with dismay ; For , as legends declare , where the castle once stood , [ with blood , 'Mid the ruins , by moon-light , all cover'd Shrieks the maid—in her doublet of - grey !
IVASH 1 NG WEEK . BY DU . PERFECT . HEY ! what ' s the bustle ? what ' s the stir ? The cat is kick'd , and whipp'd the cuv ,
Women scold , and laugh , and sing , And Scandal stretches wide her wing-. One must not look , norwrite , nor speak , And alt because'tis Washing Week . How comfortless , and lost to glee , While Delia too is lost to me—Lost to me , while at the tub See her diand see her rub .
p , Geds ! that one so sweet and fair , Should the task so arduous share ! Muse , behold the charming maid , Not of soap or suds afraid ; But this you must not sing or speak , ¦ For this is holy Washing Week . Bring the dram , and warm the beer , Give the washer-women cheer
; Bring bread ancl cheese , and then the tea , Liquor ofgarfulity . Betty hangs the deaths to dry , Bandage o'er her head and eye . What ails Betty ? why her t ' oolh Tells she does not love with truth : But the truth we must not speak , For this U surly Washing Week .
But , lo ! it rains— -go strip the lice , Clouded Sol forgets to shine * VOI . X .
Never were such dismal means , Women scold like scalded fiends : Above , below , and all around > . Peace ir . no where lobe f und . " " Sooner ! a shirt would lack , Sooner > . ear onee ' erso biack , Than bedcom'd , with mind so meek , L " o undergo one Wasbng Week .
In . my humble hut , at ease , Ogrant me , Heat en , a I .-. lepeace ! Hrant my mind a little rest , And let my enemies oppress'd , Contend with thunder , wind , and waves . When tempests howl , and Ocean raves ! No I might Revenge chastisement deal , O ! let them feel all that i feel , Where I , in corner si . ug , my beak Conceal , afraid to move or speak—Sad victim of sweet Washing Week .
MADRIGAL . BY M 11 S . n-. BlNSOif . O 1 sad and watchful waits thy lover , Whose fate depends upon a . smile , Who counts Ihe weary minutes over , And chides his flutt e ring heart the while : Who , as ' the zephyrs , softly blowiug , rets shake the dew
From droo ; ing flow ' , While down his cheek the tear is flowing , Sweet Rose of beauty ! sighs for you . Oh ! proud and madd ' nimj is the pleasure . When to my eyes thy form appears ; . All drest in Nature ' s winning treasure Of blushing hopes ' and graceful fears . And while our bosoms wildly beating , -
A thousand nameless raptures prove : Our eyes in speechless transport meeting , Shall love to gaze , and gaze to love 1 Then , Rose of beauty , haste and chee me , With lips like rubies come , and smile ; Ah ! trust my faith , and do not fear me , I love too fondly to beguile !
The false and cunning may allure thee , And win thee only to betray : I would hot , lady , so secure thee , Nor wear thy favours for a day .
Then come and bless me , Nature ' s treasure ! Oh ! come , and bid my sorrows fly ; Instruct my heart to throb with pleasure . Or bid me cease to hope , and die ' And , Rose of beauty , since thy lover For thee a thousand lives would give , One grateful thought at least discover ,
One tender sigh to bid him live ! ¦ EPIGRAM . _ BY OH . PEP . PECT . NELL calls her husband cuckold ! , knave S He calls her , with an oath , A name her indiscretion gave ;—And we believe them both ,
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
But , oh God ! with what anguish , what . , terrorshe flies , [ sin- descries When her father , all cove ' r'd with wci . m ! ., With her lover ' s pale corpse by his side : XXI . Hah"frantic she fell on her parent's cold breast , [ gore : And she bath'd her white bosom with
Then , in anguish , the form of young Theodore press'd— [ we will res ' , ' * I will yet be thy bride , in "he grave She exclaim'd ; and she suifer'd no more . XXII . Now o ' er the wild heath when the winter windsblo-. v , [ wave .
And the moon-silver'd fern branches Pale Theodore ' s specire is seen gliding slow , [ woe , As he calls on the damsel in accents of Till the bell warnshimback to his grave . XXIII . And while the deep sound echoes over the wood
, Now the villagers shrink with dismay ; For , as legends declare , where the castle once stood , [ with blood , 'Mid the ruins , by moon-light , all cover'd Shrieks the maid—in her doublet of - grey !
IVASH 1 NG WEEK . BY DU . PERFECT . HEY ! what ' s the bustle ? what ' s the stir ? The cat is kick'd , and whipp'd the cuv ,
Women scold , and laugh , and sing , And Scandal stretches wide her wing-. One must not look , norwrite , nor speak , And alt because'tis Washing Week . How comfortless , and lost to glee , While Delia too is lost to me—Lost to me , while at the tub See her diand see her rub .
p , Geds ! that one so sweet and fair , Should the task so arduous share ! Muse , behold the charming maid , Not of soap or suds afraid ; But this you must not sing or speak , ¦ For this is holy Washing Week . Bring the dram , and warm the beer , Give the washer-women cheer
; Bring bread ancl cheese , and then the tea , Liquor ofgarfulity . Betty hangs the deaths to dry , Bandage o'er her head and eye . What ails Betty ? why her t ' oolh Tells she does not love with truth : But the truth we must not speak , For this U surly Washing Week .
But , lo ! it rains— -go strip the lice , Clouded Sol forgets to shine * VOI . X .
Never were such dismal means , Women scold like scalded fiends : Above , below , and all around > . Peace ir . no where lobe f und . " " Sooner ! a shirt would lack , Sooner > . ear onee ' erso biack , Than bedcom'd , with mind so meek , L " o undergo one Wasbng Week .
In . my humble hut , at ease , Ogrant me , Heat en , a I .-. lepeace ! Hrant my mind a little rest , And let my enemies oppress'd , Contend with thunder , wind , and waves . When tempests howl , and Ocean raves ! No I might Revenge chastisement deal , O ! let them feel all that i feel , Where I , in corner si . ug , my beak Conceal , afraid to move or speak—Sad victim of sweet Washing Week .
MADRIGAL . BY M 11 S . n-. BlNSOif . O 1 sad and watchful waits thy lover , Whose fate depends upon a . smile , Who counts Ihe weary minutes over , And chides his flutt e ring heart the while : Who , as ' the zephyrs , softly blowiug , rets shake the dew
From droo ; ing flow ' , While down his cheek the tear is flowing , Sweet Rose of beauty ! sighs for you . Oh ! proud and madd ' nimj is the pleasure . When to my eyes thy form appears ; . All drest in Nature ' s winning treasure Of blushing hopes ' and graceful fears . And while our bosoms wildly beating , -
A thousand nameless raptures prove : Our eyes in speechless transport meeting , Shall love to gaze , and gaze to love 1 Then , Rose of beauty , haste and chee me , With lips like rubies come , and smile ; Ah ! trust my faith , and do not fear me , I love too fondly to beguile !
The false and cunning may allure thee , And win thee only to betray : I would hot , lady , so secure thee , Nor wear thy favours for a day .
Then come and bless me , Nature ' s treasure ! Oh ! come , and bid my sorrows fly ; Instruct my heart to throb with pleasure . Or bid me cease to hope , and die ' And , Rose of beauty , since thy lover For thee a thousand lives would give , One grateful thought at least discover ,
One tender sigh to bid him live ! ¦ EPIGRAM . _ BY OH . PEP . PECT . NELL calls her husband cuckold ! , knave S He calls her , with an oath , A name her indiscretion gave ;—And we believe them both ,