Imatges de pàgina
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Tis now just two-and-twenty years,
Since with alternate hopes and fears
Our beating bosoms heav'd;
When at the altar's sacred base
This golden pledge of fond embrace
Was given and receiv'd.

Then was it polish'd, bright, and neat,
Its form a circle quite complete,

Stamp'd with the mark of truth :
So to the newly wedded pair
Each prospect seemed bright and fair;
The fond ideas of youth.

But we have found, and others must,
That joys are only joys on trust }
That troubles will accrue.
Still you and I should not complain,
For though we've had our share of pain,
We've had our pleasures too.

Can we forget those happy days,
When oft we join'd in sports and plays,
Our infants to delight?

Or when we turn'd th' instructive page,
Forming them in maturer age

"To do the thing that's right.”

This was the solace and the balm
Of early life; and still the charm,

Maintains its glad'ning powers:
Though growing now to men's estate,
We see them come with hearts elate
To cheer our social hours.

As for this ring, we'll lay it by,
A new one shall its place supply,
And this no more adorn;
Except on days of festive note,

When your new gown and my best coat
For compliment are worn.

THE GAMES OF LIFE.
The little Miss at three years old,
Plays with Doll, and prattles;
But little Master stout and bold,
Plays with drums and rattles.
The boy, detesting musty books,
Loves romping with the lasses;
And Miss, grown older, studies looks,
And plays with looking glasses.
The jolly toper, fond of fun,

Plays with his friends at drinking;
The sportsman plays with dog and gun,
And wise men play at thinking.
The beauty, full of haughty airs,
When young, plays at tormenting;
But wrinkled, turns to other cares,
And sports at last repenting.
Wretched, from self-created wo,
The miser's game is hoarding:
And when he meets his country's foe,
The sailor plays at boarding.

The alderman with bloated face,

A glutton plays at eating;
And such as long to have a place
In Parliament at treating.

With leger busied, merchants take
A game at calculation;
And ministers too often make

A plaything of the nation.

With looks profound, and thoughful mind,
Projectors play at scheming;
Till worn with care, at last they find
They've all along been dreaming.
The lover sad, and woful wan,

Plays day and night at fretting;
Whilst laughing at the silly man
His Delia sports coquetting.

Cowards, while none but cowards nigh, Are fond of gasconading,

And courtiers fawn, and cringe, and lie,
And play at masquerading

The lounger plays at killing time,
The soldier plays at slaying ;
The poet plays at making rhyme,
The methodist at praying.

The player plays for wealth and fame,
And thus all play together;

Till death at last disturbs the game,
And stops the play forever.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

For The Port Folio.

MR. OLDSCHOOL,

If the following lines, sent to a much loved friend of the authour, can afford you any amusement, accept them with the homage of my esteem and respect.

Bell' era e ne l'eta fiorita e fresca :
Quanto in piu gioventute en piu bellezza,
Tanto par ch'onestà sua laude accresca.
Trionfo della Fama.

Sweet girl, while care assails thy mind,
And all thy heart to grief resign'd,
Unconscious, heedless of the morrow,
Beats but in unison with sorrow :
Forgive the bard who pours the lay
Of tribute to this festive day.
No idle scenes of boisterous joy,
His numbers or his mind employ,
Ah no, the heart with grief oppress'd,
He fondly strives to sooth to rest,
And soft, the troubled soul to calm,
With Resignation's holy balm.
Sacred to him the hour of grief,
He sighs his wishes of relief,

And fondly striving to impart The feelings of an honest heart, He trembles as he grasps the lyre And strikes, with timid hand, the wire. How sweet to smooth the brow of Care To chase the sorrows hov'ring there, To pluck the thorn of grief away And give each sweet emotion play: To bid corroding Care depart, And sooth to joy the aching heart : A share in each misfortune claim In Friendship's mild endearing name : Oh could that sacred task be mine I'd be with joy thy Valentine.

Valentine's day, 1808,

ASTOLPHO.

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Near Housatonick's winding stream,
Secure from Summer's sultry beam,
I chose a sheltered mild retreat,
Upon a soft and verdant seat.
With

at my side,

In youthful beauty's glowing pride. While friendship's joys our bosoms warm, She fair reclined upon my arm, I fondly whispered, Love, behold, The glowing sky is ting'd with gold, The sun his fiery chariot laves, Beneath the western ocean's waves, The noon day heats have pass'd away, And soft the evening breezes play. The early Lark has gone to rest, And the wood Robin seeks his nest, The shades assume a deeper hue, And the wide landscape fades from view. Oh! look around you, nature see, Tun'd to love and harmony. Soft she reclin'd, her glowing cheek The crimson blushes eager seek: While I in flowing accents strove, To move her tender heart to love. Arise my dear, my fair one see, The power of love has vanquished me, In vain I long have strove to part Your much-lov'd image from my heart; In vain with friendship's joys elate, I strove to rule ungovern'd fate, And Reason oft in vain has told, The attempt toɔhi gh, too daring bold All-powerful Love the day has won, And all his warmest fires I own, My heart I pledge you past recall, Oh, deem not such a tribute small, 'Tis generous, ardent, firm, and true, Believe me, love, 'tis worthy you.

Then take the wand'ring fugitive,
And thine in ample payment give,
Come then sweet girl, oh! don't deny,
The joys mild beaming in thine eye.
But let me in these arms enfold thee,
And to my panting bosom hold thee;
Oh let me on thy lips impress,
One tender, glowing, burning kiss.
No, no, she cried, yet sweetly smiled,
And Hope's soft beams my soul beguil❜d.
Oh then what joys those smiles impart,
As fond I clasp'd her to my heart,
Our lips in amorous transport met,
Oh heaven, methinks I feel it yet.
While often through the waving air,
I breathe an anxious, trembling prayer,
That such impassion'd scenes of joy,
May every future hour employ.

AS TOLPHO.

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For the Port Folio.

The following ballad, which the au thour entitled "The Resolute Maid, or the Miser well treated," was suggested by a comick scene in a French translation of one of the eccentrick plays of Lopez de Vega, the celebrated Spanish dramatist, and was written to divert the tædium of the time whilst ascending the beautiful stream of the Wabash, during a voyage to Vincennes. It is hoped that the au thour intended his heroine (who after having wedded the Miserin obedience to the commands of her father, resolves never to give him her affections and finally elopes with her lover) rather as an instance of the probable effects of such horrible sacrifices on the altars of avarice, than as a pattern for the imitation of the unhappy vic

tims; for no "tyranny of circumstances" can induce a woman of honour to deviate from the path of rectitude, though it may be planted with thorns or rugged with precipices. Should Nature's frame in ruin fall, And chaos o'er the sinking ball,

Resume primeval sway,

Her courage, chance, and fate defies,
Nor can the wreck of earth and skies
Obstruct her destined way."

LESBIA.

Multa putans, fortemque animo miseratus iniquam.

VIRGIL.

Miser, cease, nor hope to win me, Age and care frown on thy brow; Cupid whispers still within me, Bids recall th' unwilling vow,

Bars of steel shall ne'er restrain me,
Love hath long defied their power;
Not thy heaps of gold shall gain me,
Venus ruled my natal hour.

Henry, graceful, youthful, blooming,
Vowed my virgin charms to wed;
A father, tyrant-power assuming,
Forc'd me to thy hated bed.

Love and Henry smil'd upon me,
Ah! his name my bosom warms;
Wretch, think not thy riches won me,
What is wealth to Henry's arms?

His cheek with gen'rous valour glowing, His brow, where youth and beauty join,

His hair in golden tresses flowing, His form-how faultless! how divine !

With him I'd smile in humble station, With him could break the barren clod, With him would roam thro' every nation Or where no human foot hath trod.

Not thy sighs thy am'rous languish, E'er shall gain me to be true;

Not thy soul's pretended anguish, Not the wealth of famed Peru.

Cease then, wretch, nor hope to win me, Cease, thy arts, thy sighs are vain, Cupid lives, he lives within me, Bids me all thy arts disdain.

Am'rous God, oh! haste, relieve me, And make thy wily weapons mine;

No more shall Hymen's torch deceive

me,

God of enchantment! I am thine.

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Oh, cheer again that clouded brow,
And turn away those scornful eyes;
Anger will chill the kindly glow,

That on thy cheeks so sweetly rise.
See, Julia, see! my wo-fraught tear,
It falls in sorrow's strain;

Thy words, sweet girl, were too severe,
Ah, softly sooth thy lover's pain.
Couldst thou believe, too lovely fair!

That one who liv'd but in thy smile,
Who daily kiss'd that pledge, thy hair,

Had practis'd base Deception's guile ? Then shun the mean intruder's art, That with pale Envy's treach'rous hand, Would cheat thy unsuspecting heart, And rudely sever Love's soft band. SEDLEY.

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The price of The Port Folio is Six Dollars per annum, to be paid in advance.

Printed and Published, for the Editor, by SMITH & MAXWELL, No. 28, NORTH SECOND-STREET.

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For The Port Folio.

TRAVELS.

ORIGINAL PAPERS.

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IT was dark, when we entered our inn, and as it was a spacious and well-fashioned house, it had the air of a palace; our apartments too seemed to unite every thing we could wish; a French publick house looks. always best at candle-light, and it is never until the next day that the great and universal fault of uncleanliness begins to appear; a well-furnished table, good bed, handsome curtains, and a civil reception are frequently found connected with circumstances, which ought, one would suppose, to be as far from such luxury, as the manners of the most polished society are from the filth of a

Hottentot. I rose early next morning, and passed through narrower streets than I had expected, to the Esplanade, a publick walk, whence a highly cultivated, most beautiful, and thickly inhabited country appea red, and then to the place de Peyron, a square projecting from the inclosure of the town on an elevated spot, and commanding, in addition to all that I have mentioned, a distant prospect of the Alps on one side, of the Pyre nees on the other, and of the Medi terranean below me. Of these three great objects, the sea attracted my attention most forcibly. The states and empires which have existed at various times upon its shores glanced across my imagination, as I reflected for a moment upon the bloody contests which have taken place, and of the hostile fleets that had floated upon its surface, from the triumph of Duilius, to the victory of Lord Nel, son: the sea was attractive also, as a scene familiar to my mind, and as affording the means of communica tion with my native country.

Having looked about, for some time, I had next the leisure to admire a receptacle for water, which is Ff

we were shown a spot, near which, as tradition says, she was buried:~ it was at the upper end of the garden, and amidst a cluster of cypres ses that the unhappy father carried his lifeless daughter in his arms, and committed her to the earth: the gar dener, who was alive not many years ago, mentioned the fact, and showed the place to a person, whose testimo

self a poet of Young's extreme sensibility, himself the bearer, himself officiating as clergyman, on this last, most solemn, most affecting of all occasions! Had his life been pro

brought there for the use of the town, by an acqueduct from a distance; it is, in appearance, a handsome marble temple, such as the zeal of an opulent and pious heathen, might have erected, in former times, to the tutelary deity of the stream, which furnished water to his native city; and as if my attention had not been sufficiently excited, I beheld, at a distance, those mountains of the Ceny may be relied on. Figure to yourvennes, so distinguished for the religious war, which originated there in the reign of Louis the XIV, and which contributed so much to people the wilds of South Carolina. We had the pleasure to find a second let-tracted to a subsequent period, the ter here from F, he seemed well and cheerful: we had reason indeed to be satisfied with all the accounts we had received of him upon the road; he had been remarked at every house he stopt at, for something singular in his dress, or from his speaking very little French, and we were universally told, that the English boy we inquired after, seemed amused, and that every body was very kind to him.

Passing rapidly along and staying but a day or two at most in the largest towns, I should only have to borrow from books, if I were to pretend to enter into a minute description of persons, places, and manners. I can only tell you, therefore, of what we saw. Montpellier is an ancient city but long posterior to the times of the Romans; it had never, therefore, any antiquities to boast of, but it has been distinguished for carrying on an extensive trade, ever since the days of Jacques Coeur, who was so ill rewarded for his services to Charles VII, to the period of the Revolution, and being placed in a mild climate, and known as the residence of several distinguished physieians, was almost proverbially the retreat of consumptive people. It was to Montpellier that the celebrated Dr. Young repaired with his daughter when in the hour of sickness and decay he bore her, as he says, nearer to the sun: in the botanick garden

delicacy of his affection would have received an additional wound, for the rage of innovation, which during some time bewitched all France, extended its destructive effects even to this solitary spot; the trees of the grove have been destroyed, a part of the earth removed, and the remains of poor Narcissa have been distur bed: one may conceive, I think, what a burst of pious indignation his melancholy Muse would have drawn from the priest, the father, the protestant, and the poet.

POLITE LITERATURE.

In political compositions men have been generally more studious of vehemence and strength than of amenity, grace, and splendour. Bolingbroke and Junius always ex. cepted, most writers, who have chosen to inveigh against their political enemies, have

adopted a style of a coarse texture. But

it is not generally known, that even Junius has been followed by a writer, who to fertility of allusion and pungency of period adds much of Addison's and Goldsmith's suavity. The publisher, in a brief advertisement prefixed to the work, apprises us, that "about the commencement of the year 1790, a Newspaper was establised at Edinburgh, under the title of THE EDINBURGH HERALD, which was honoured, not only with the patronage and approbation of many persons of the highest rank, but by the

occasional assistance of some of the most celebrated literary men in that part of the kingdom. Among the valuable communications that have been made to the readers

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