There's been a time my sweetest bliss

Was woman's heart to capture;

There's been a time when woman's kiss Convuls'd my soul with rapture.

There's been a time when woman's love Was, no one knows, how pleasant; There's been a time for all th' above,

And O that time's-the present.

THE WISH!

"Then swift and gentle as the gentlest dove
I'll seek thy breast, and equal all thy love;
Cupid shall fan his purple wings, and spread
Undying rapture for our nuptial bed."

"I have no hope that does not dream of thee-
I have no joy that is not shared by thee;
All that I once took pleasure in-my lute-
Is only sweet when it repeats thy name."

I WISH I were a rose, my love,
That I might braid thy hair ;
Or blushingly might languish, love,
Upon thy bosom fair.

I wish I were a bird, my love,
And could thy heart engage,
How sweetly would I sing, my love,
Within my prison-cage!

I wish I were the cup, my love,

From which thou'rt wont to sip,

E

I'd wish thee often thirsty, love,

That I might kiss thy lip.

I wish I were the breeze, my love,

That woos thy fairy form,

No chill should e'er steal o'er thee, love

My sighs should all be warm.

I wish I were an echo, love,

And then no other name

Save" Agnes," (which is thine my love,) These fond lips should proclaim.

I wish I were thy pillow, love,

O heaven! how soft I'd be,

That thou with pleasure might, my love,

Thy cheek recline on me.

But most of all, believe me, love,

It were my wish and pride,
To press thee to my heart, my love,

And christen thee-my bride!

CHARADE.

"Gentle as if descended from the skies,
And lovely as an angel-form must be,
A spirit, as methought, before mine eyes,
Amidst the sons of earth stole silently."

Thou, thou, art life, and all the world to me-
All day I doat, all night I dream of thee."

My first, since the crim-con of Eve, has been reckon'd
The curse-entail'd birthright, alas! of my second ;

Unite them, and O! in that sweet word is given,
The glory of earth-the chef-d'œuvre of Heaven!

THE ROSE OF LOVE.

"Yes! Iam gay and smiling now,

But little dost thou know
How oft a light and careless brow

Is darken'd o'er by woe.

The giddy word, the laughing eye,

Which would the truth disown,
Are chang'd for many a bitter sigh.

When the world hath left me lone."

I'VE lov'd through many a summer's day,
Through many a summer's night,
And bath'd this burning soul of mine

In seas of wild delight.

Through years of fond and tender bliss,

For woman's smiles I've strove,

And, true to Venus, still I'll keep

The Carnival of Love.

[And pr'ythee tell me, who is Love?—

The King of bow and dart

His empire?—The vast universe—

His throne?-Dear woman's heart