Refused that instant to comply
With my absurd request,
For reasons she could specify,
Some twenty score at least.

Trust me, my dear, however odd
It may appear to say,

I sought it merely to defraud
Thy spoiler of his prey.

Yes! when its sister locks shall fade,
As quickly fade they must,
When all their beauties are decayed,
Their gloss, their colour, lost-

Ah then! if haply to my share
Some slender pittance fall,
If I but gain one single hair,
Nor age usurp them all ;—

When you behold it still as sleek,
As lovely to the view,

As when it left thy snowy neck,—
That Eden where it grew,-

Then shall my Delia's self declare
That I professed the truth,

And have preserved my little share
In everlasting youth.

LOVERS QUARRELS.

THIS evening, Delia, you and I
Have managed most delightfully,
For with a frown we parted;
Having contrived some trifle that
We both may be much troubled at,
And sadly disconcerted.

Yet well as each performed their part, We might perceive it was but art; And that we both intended

To sacrifice a little ease;

For all such petty flaws as these
Are made but to be mended.

You knew, dissembler! all the while, How sweet it was to reconcile

After this heavy pelt;

That we should gain by this allay

When next we met, and laugh away

The care we never felt.

Happy! when we but seek to endure
A little pain, then find a cure
By double joy requited;

For friendship, like a severed bone,
Improves and gains a stronger tone
When aptly reunited.

THINK, Delia, with what cruel haste
Our fleeting pleasures move,
Nor heedless thus in sorrow waste
The moments due to love;

Be wise, my fair, and gently treat These few that are our friends; Think, thus abused, what sad regret Their speedy flight attends !

Sure in those eyes I love so well,
And wished so long to see,
Anger I thought could never dwell,
Or anger aimed at me.

No bold offence of mine I knew Should e'er provoke your hate; And, early taught to think you true, Still hoped a gentler fate.

With kindness bless the present hour,
Or oh! we meet in vain !

What can we do in absence more
Than suffer and complain?

Fated to ills beyond redress,
We must endure our woe;
The days allowed us to possess,
'Tis madness to forego.

THE SYMPTOMS OF LOVE.

WOULD my Delia know if I love, let her take

My last thought at night, and the first when I wake; When my prayers and best wishes preferr❜d for her sake.

Let her guess what I muse on, when rambling alone
I stride o'er the stubble each day with my gun,
Never ready to shoot till the covey is flown.

Let her think what odd whimsies I have in my brain,
When I read one page over and over again,
And discover at last that I read it in vain.

Let her say why so fix'd and so steady my look,
Without ever regarding the person who spoke,
Still affecting to laugh, without hearing the joke.

Or why, when with pleasure her praises I hear
(That sweetest of melody sure to my ear),
I attend, and at once inattentive appear.

And lastly, when summon'd to drink to my flame,
Let her guess why I never once mention her name,
Though herself and the woman I love are the same.

SEPARATION.

How oft, my Delia, since our last farewell

(Years that have rolled since that distressful hour), Grieved I have said, when most our hopes prevail, Our promised happiness is least secure.

Had you, my love, forbade me to pursue
My fond attempt; disdainfully retired,

And with proud scorn compelled me to subdue
The ill-fated passion by yourself inspired;

Then haply to some distant spot removed,
Hopeless to gain, unwilling to molest
With fond entreaties whom I dearly loved,
Despair or absence had redeemed my rest.

But now, sole partner in my Delia's heart,
Yet doomed far off in exile to complain,
Eternal absence cannot ease my smart,

And Hope subsists but to prolong my pain.

Oh then, kind Heaven, be this my latest breath!
Here end my life, or make it worth my care;
Absence from whom we love is worse than death,
And frustrate hope severer than despair.