16 O father, mother, brother dear! O names still uttered with a tear! Upon whose knees I've sat and smiled, Whose griefs my blandishments beguiled; Whom I forsake in sorrows old, Whom I shall never more behold! Farewell, my friends, a long farewell, Till time shall toll the funeral knell. 17 _Hen_. Thy friends, thy father's house resign; My friends, my house, my all is thine: Awake, arise, my wedded wife, To higher thoughts, and happier life! For thee the marriage feast is spread, For thee the virgins deck the bed; The star of Venus shines above, And all thy future life is love. 18 They rise, the dear domestic hours! The May of love unfolds her flowers; Youth, beauty, pleasure spread the feast, And friendship sits a constant guest; In cheerful peace the morn ascends, In wine and love the evening ends; At distance grandeur sheds a ray, To gild the evening of our day. 19 Connubial love has dearer names, And finer ties, and sweeter claims, Than e'er unwedded hearts can feel, Than wedded hearts can e'er reveal; Pure as the charities above, Rise the sweet sympathies of love; And closer cords than those of life Unite the husband to the wife. 20 Like cherubs new come from the skies, Henries and Harriets round us rise; And playing wanton in the hall, With accent sweet their parents call; To your fair images I run, You clasp the husband in the son; Oh, how the mother's heart will bound! Oh, how the father's joy be crowned! WRITTEN IN A VISIT TO THE COUNTRY IN AUTUMN. 1 'Tis past! no more the Summer blooms! Ascending in the rear, Behold congenial Autumn comes, The Sabbath of the year! What time thy holy whispers breathe, The pensive evening shade beneath, And twilight consecrates the floods; While nature strips her garment gay, And wears the vesture of decay, Oh, let me wander through the sounding woods! 2 Ah! well-known streams!--ah! wonted groves, Still pictured in my mind! Oh! sacred scene of youthful loves, Whose image lives behind! While sad I ponder on the past, The joys that must no longer last; The wild-flower strown on Summer's bier The dying music of the grove, And the last elegies of love, Dissolve the soul, and draw the tender tear! 3 Alas! the hospitable hall, Where youth and friendship played, Wide to the winds a ruined wall Projects a death-like shade! The charm is vanished from the vales; No voice with virgin-whisper hails A stranger to his native bowers: No more Arcadian mountains bloom, Nor Enna valleys breathe perfume; The fancied Eden fades with all its flowers!