SONNET. Not as in colder climes, with stealthy pace, THE BRIDE OF GLENGARE. FAREWELL Glengare! I ask thee not To stay and bless me still, That's bought against thy will ! Had thy frail heart but sought of me, The toils of war to share ; To fix that heart, Glengare ! Away! away! to sword and shield The pennon streams on high ; Thou lov'st the music of the field, But not the lover's sigh. I see the helmet gird thy brows, Love's garland is not there; To me thy bride, Glengare ? Farewell Glengare ! another hand May wipe away thy tear ; The sadness of a distant land, Another's smile may cheer. But never more, though smiles abound, And Beauty's heaven be there; O never more shall one be found To love like me, Glengare ! R.L. LINES SENT TO A LADY WITH A CUP AND BALL. BY THE REV. LEGH RICHMOND, A. M. DEAR MADAM, WILL you deign to accept of this fanciful present, More fair and more solid than Partridge or Pheasant ; Although in my Cups I hope ne'er to be seen, And myself am too grave for a dance on your green, Yet with strange inconsistency, (critics will say,) Both with Cup and with Ball I invite you to play ; But my Cup is so harmless, my Ball is so quiet, I fear not the charge of inviting to riot,My Cup to the head no harm will impart, Nor my Ball with its pleasures inveigle your heart, You may fearless accept it-its innocent powers, Will with safety beguile your occasional hours. THE FALL OF THE ROSSBERG. THESE lines were prompted by the following dreadful catastrophe, which happened on the 2d of September, 1806. That side of the mountain called Rouffiberg or Rossberg, which is towards the lake of Lowertz and mount Righi, having been much bulged out by the snows of the previous winter, and particularly by the torrents of rain, which had fallen during the summer and autumn following, began to crack on the morning of the above eventful day, and on the same evening gave way with a frightful crash, overwhelming, with its debris, no fewer than five villages, of which Goldau is the largest, and converting the smiling and fertile valley, in which they were situated, into a perpetual desolation. Dim rose the sun, with cheerless ray, Was heaving angrily. Heard ye, on that eventful morn, O'er Goldau's destiny? |