EVANDER TO EMILLIA .

Wild florets tremble o'er the shadow'd stream,
Low in the winding, and irriguous vale,
While, blazing at high noon, the solar beam
Flames on the mountain top, and fires the gale.
Here, then, in silence, through the summer day,
Glide, bright with hope, enamour'd hours away.

For now my love-devoted soul at rest,
Hails all the lonely graces of the scene;
Hails them in soft, confiding fondness blest,
And leaves Ambition to her anxious spleen.
Her pomps, her triumphs, disregarded shine,
While fair E MILLIA'S melting heart is mine.

Would I this lock of my E MILLIA'S hair,
Floating in golden threads upon the breeze,
Resign for all Ambition's votaries wear,
For all they pine to see a rival seize?
Ah, no! dear pledge of Love and Hope, that pour
Their precious essence on this rosy hour!

Fate will restore thee, angel, kind and bright
As Spring's gay-morning on the troubled sea,
That heaved and surged thro' the long, stormy night,
Like my tumultuous soul when far from thee,
By thy vain doubts disturb'd and jealous throes,
Darkening our perils by superfluous woes.

The clouds disperse! our long-disastrous love,
Trembling beneath pale Ruin's hovering wings,
Emerges from their shade! — O! may it prove
No meteor-fire, that now before us springs,
But a mild pole-star to the dear retreat,
Where Peace and Competence our steps shall greet.

O! to gaze on thee all the summer's day,
Hear thy sweet accents charm the winter eve,
And through the hours of slumber's stealing sway
Thy balmy breathings on my cheek perceive;
What full reward for every woe, that shed
Gloom on th' impassion'd years, irrevocably fled! (j.)