« ForrigeFortsett »
THE WINTER NOSEGAY.
What nature, alas! has denied
To the delicate growth of our isle, Art has in a measure fupplied,
And winter is deck'd with a smile. See, Mary, what beauties I bring
From the shelter of that sunny shed, Where the flow'rs have the charms of the spring,
Though abroad they are frozen and dead.
Tis a bow'r of Arcadian sweets,
Where Flora is still in her prime, A fortress, to which she retreats
From the cruel assaults of the clime. While earth wears a mantle of snow,
These pinks are as fresh and as gay As the faireft and sweetest that blow
On the beautiful bosom of May,
The frowns of a sky so severe;
Through many a turbulent year. The charms of the late blowing rose
Seem grac'd with a livelier hue, And the winter of forrow best shows
The truth of a friend such as you.
NECESSARY TO THE HAPPINESS OF THE MARRIED STATË.
The lady thus address’d her spouse-
Are such an antiquated scene,
You are so deaf, the lady cried,
Dismifs poor Harry! he replies ; Some people are more nice than wife For one night trespass all this stir? What if he did ride whip and fpur,, 'Twas but a mile-your fav’rite horse Will never look one hair the worse.
Well, I protest 'tis past all bearingChild ! I am rather hard of hearing
Yes, truly—one must scream and bawl.
Alas! and is domestic strife,
To gratify a fretful passion,
The kindest and the happiest pair
Instead of harmony, 'tis jar
The love that cheers life's latest stage,