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He cut the heart of a dove in two,
He plucked a ray from the setting sun,
He waited till the stars arose,
He wrote on rose leaves, newly blown,
"We were for each other born,
Love copied then his billet-doux,
XIX. THE DECAY OF LOVE.
THY charms are all decaying, Love,
From day's clear fountain straying, Lovè.
To fill his cup of feeling, Love.
That lip will shed its sweetness, Love,
As when it wore
The snowy veil of neatness, Love.
Before the young hours fly us,
The rose of youth is blowing, Love,
As elms and vines are growing, Love.
A chain of flowers has twined us, Love,
Till age and death unbind us, Love.
XX. LOVE'S BENEDICTION.
BE as thou art-forever young,
Still on thy cheek the vernal bloom;
Be as thou art-forever fair,
Still beam wirh love, those eyes of thine; Forever wave thy yellow hair,
And round thy graceful bosom twine.
Those coral lips, those teeth of pearl,
Those smiles, those glances, and those sighs; Heaven save them long, my charming girl,
To bless this heart, to bless these eyes.
For all of thee, thank heaven, is mine:
XXI. THE CORAL GROVE.
DEEP in the wave is a Coral Grove,
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
And the pearl shells spangle the flinty snow; From coral rocks the sea plants lift
Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow;
The water is calm and still below,
For the winds and waves are absent there,
The sea-flag streams through the silent water, And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen
To blush, like a banner bath'd in slaughter: There with a light and easy motion,
The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea ; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean,
Are bending, like corn on the upland lea:
Is sporting amid those bowers of stone,
Where the myriad voices of ocean roar,
The purple mullet, and gold-fish rove,
Through the bending twigs of the coral grove.
XXII. THE MERMAID'S SONG,
COME mariner, down in the deep with me,
On a pillow of pearl thine eye shall sleep,
And she who is waiting with cheek so pale,
And weeps when she hears the menacing gale,
Come whitening up to the shore
She has not long to linger for thee;
For the chords shall be broke, and the prisoner free,
And her eye shall close, and her dreams shall be
So sweet sweet she will wake no more.
XXIII. HOLIDAY PRESENTS.*
Now, ere winter commences hostility,
Such as Bonfanti will sell in Broadway;
There's a snuff-box of costly materials,
Gold enamell'd, with diamonds and pearls, Rich as ever despotic imperials
Gave, on Christmas, to favourite girls; Containing a treasure that gives us more pleasure
Than this kind of measure, which playfully rings; Touch a spring in it, and out flies a linnet,
Which warbles a minute, while flapping its wings.
Nothing can equal its plumage and tone;
Should call on Bonfanti--three hundred and five.
There's a gig and the little miss in it, sir,
Round the room, in the tenth of a minute, sir,
With rolling eye glancing, and sweet rosy cheeks;
And soldiers, with triggers to pull for the Greeks.
Silver spoons, too, enclosed in a cherry pit,
Roaring as loud as a pistol or gun;
But what is still queerer, the moon is brought nearer,
By glasses collected in one hollow cane.
* Advertisement of Joseph Bonfanti, in the New-York Evening Post:
Gloves in nuts, too, a great curiosity,
Chains for lockets, and bracelets for arms; Pens and pencils to rule with velocity,
Paints for ladies to heighten their charms; Tooth-picks and tweezers, with needles and scissors, And glasses called quizzers, to gaze at the fair; Razors in cases, with bodkins and braces,
And patches for faces, and combs for the hair. Canes for walking, an endless variety,
Some are musical, made like a flute; Swords in others, to meet with propriety
Rude assaults from a bully or brute; Bottles to smell of, like fishes they tell of,
Designed for each belle of a delicate frame; Cork-screws and purses, with rattles for nurses,
Or those who write verses for nothing but fame.
Swords and rifles, with pistols and dirks;
And toys for young masters and misses you know ; And true pulse-glasses to tell us what passes
In veins of the lasses, who've hearts to bestow. Quills and wafers for forming a billet-doux,
Tinder-boxes, with snuffers and stands ; Case for dressing, and matters to fill it too,
All that a gentleman's toilet demands. Faithful barometers, best of thermometers,
Clocks and hydrometers, finished with care, With breast-pins and lockets, and lights for the pockets, And holiday rockets to burst in the air.
There, and a thousand of others most beautiful,
Sweethearts and children, if constant and dutiful,
is equally pleasant this festival day,
XXIV. THE PRINTER'S PRAYER.
OH! thou GREAT HEAD of earth and heaven'