CAROLINE.

From some green Eden of the deep, Where Pleasure's sigh alone is heaved, Where tears of rapture lovers weep, Endear'd, undoubting, undeceived:

From some sweet paradise afar,

Thy music wanders, distant, lostWhere Nature lights her leading star, And love is never, never cross'd.

Oh gentle gale of Eden bowers,

If back thy rosy feet should roam, To revel with the cloudless Hours

In Nature's more propitious home,

Name to thy loved Elysian groves,
That o'er enchanted spirits twine,
A fairer form than cherub loves,
And let the name be CAROLINE.

PART II.

TO THE EVENING STAR.

Gem of the crimson-colour'd even,
Companion of retiring day,
Why at the closing gates of heaven,
Beloved star, dost thou delay?

So fair thy pensile beauty burns,
When soft the tear of twilight flows;

So due thy plighted love returns,

To chambers brighter than the rose :

CAROLINE.

To Peace, to Pleasure, and to Love,

So kind a star thou seem'st to be, Sure some enamour'd orb above

Descends and burns to meet with thee.

Thine is the breathing, blushing hour,
When all unheavenly passions fly,
Chased by the soul-subduing power
Of Love's delicious witchery.

O! sacred to the fall of day,
Queen of propitious stars, appear,

And early rise, and long delay,
When Caroline herself is here!

Shine on her chosen green resort,

Whose trees the sunward summit crown, And wanton flowers, that well may court An angel's feet to tread them down.

Shine on her sweetly-scented road,

Thou star of evening's purple dome,

That lead'st the nightingale abroad,

And guid'st the pilgrim to his home.

Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath
Embalms the soft exhaling dew,

Where dying winds a sigh bequeath
To kiss the cheek of rosy hue;

Where, winnow'd by the gentle air,

Her silken tresses darkly flow,

And fall upon her brow so fair,

Like shadows on the mountain snow.

CAROLINE.

Thus, ever thus, at day's decline,
In converse sweet, to wander far,
O bring with thee my Caroline,

And thou shalt be my ruling star!

LOVE'S APOLOGY.

Thomas Campbell.

I.

He meets, by heavenly chance express,
The destined maid: some hidden hand
Unveils to him that loveliness

Which others cannot understand.
No songs of love, no summer dreams
Did ere his longing fancy fire
With vision like to this: she seems
In all things better than desire.
His merits in her presence grow,

To match the promise in her eyes;
And round her happy footsteps blow
The authentic airs of Paradise.

For love of her he cannot sleep;

Her beauty haunts him all the night;
It melts his heart, it makes him weep
With wonder, worship, and delight.
O paradox of love! he longs,—

Most humbled when he most aspires,—
To suffer scorn and cruel wrongs

From her he honours and desires. Her graces make him rich, and ask

No guerdon; this imperial style Affronts him; he disdains to bask

The pensioner of her priceless smile.

He prays for some hard thing to do,

Some work of fame and labour immense, To stretch the languid bulk and thew Of Love's fresh-born magnipotence. No smallest boon were bought too dear, Tho' barter'd for his love-sick life; Yet trusts he, with undaunted cheer,

To vanquish heaven, and call her wife.
He notes how Queens of sweetness still
Neglect their crowns, and stoop to mate;

How, self-consign'd with lavish will,
They ask but love proportionate;
How swift pursuit by small degrees,
Love's tactic, works like miracle;

LOVE'S APOLOGY.

How valour, clothed in courtesies,
Brings down the haughtiest citadel;
And therefore, though he merits not
To kiss the braid upon her skirt,
His hope, discouraged ne'er a jot,
Outsoars all possible desert:
Resistance only makes him gay;

The fiercer fight, the fairer she;
In vain her distance says him nay;

Hope, desperate grown, feigns certainty. Ah, whither shall a maiden flee,

When a bold youth so swift pursues,

And siege of tenderest courtesy,

With hope perseverant, still renews? Ah, wherefore flee? Her simple breast Thanks him who finds her fair and good; She loves her fears, veil'd joys arrest The foolish terrors of her blood;

By secret sweet degrees her heart,

Vanquish'd, takes warmth from his desire;

She makes it more, with bashful art,

And basks at Love's late dreaded fire.
O, might he, when by doubts aggrieved,
Behold his tokens next her breast,
At all his words and sighs, perceived

Against its blithe obtrusion press'd!

But soon his victory he divines :

He tells her what his feelings are; And, lo! her love, unveiling, shines As steady as a tropic star.

II.

Most rare is still most noble found,

Most noble, still most incomplete :

Sad law, which leaves King Love uncrown'd

In this obscure terrestrial seat!