So must the Lover find his way To move the heart he hopes to win Must not in distant forms delay Must not in rude assaults begin. fear : For such attractive power has Love, STORM AND CALM. [FROM THE ALBUM OF THE DUCHESS of rutland.] Ar sea when threatening tempests rise, When angry winds the waves deform, The seaman lifts to Heaven his eyes, And deprecates the dreaded storm. "Ye furious powers, no more contend; "Ye winds and seas, your conflict end; "And on the mild subsiding deep, "Let Fear repose and Terror sleep!" At length the waves are hush'd in peace, No helm she feels, no course she keeps, Sick of a Calm the sailor lies, And views the still, reflecting seas; Or, whistling to the burning skies, He hopes to wake the slumbering breeze: The same dull round of thoughts excite, He wishes for the Storm again. Thus, when I felt the force of Love, I suffer'd much, but found at length I slept, I waked, and, morn and eve, No thought arose the soul to grieve, Of wearied passions still and tame."Alas!" I cried, when years had flown"Must no awakening joy be known? "Must never Hope's inspiring breeze "Sweep off this dull and torpid ease "Must never Love's all-cheering ray Upon the frozen fancy play – "Unless they seize the passive soul, "And with resistless power control? “Then let me all their force sustain, "And bring me back the Storm again." SATIRE. I LOVE not the satiric Muse: ་ - Attack a book-attack a song You will not do essential wrong; You may their blemishes expose, And yet not be the writer's foes. But when the man you thus attack, And him expose with critic art, You put a creature to the rack You wring, you agonise, his heart. No farther honest Satire can In all her enmity proceed, Than passing by the wicked Man, To execrate the wicked Deed. If so much virtue yet remain That he would feel the sting and pain, The Muse her sting should not apply: BELVOIR CASTLE. [WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE DUCHESS DOWAGER OF RUTLAND, AND INSCRIBED IN HER ALBUM, 1812.] WHEN native Britons British lands possess'd, Their glory freedom — and their blessing rest — A powerful chief this lofty Seat survey'd, And here his mansion's strong foundation laid: His herds the vale, his flocks the hills, o'erspread ; Sons, kindred, servants, waited on his will, In a new age a Saxon Lord appear'd, And on the lofty base his dwelling rear'd: Then first the grand but threatening form was known, And to the subject-vale a Castle shown, Where strength alone appear'd, -the gloomy wall |