It chanced, I pass'd again that way In autumn's latest hour, And wond'ring saw the selfsame spray Rich with the selfsame flower. Ah, fond deceit! the rude green bud Alike in shape, place, name, Had bloom'd, where bloom'd its parent stud, Another and the same! 1796. EPIGRAM. Hoarse Maevius reads his hobbling verse To all, and at all times; And finds them both divinely smooth, His voice, as well as rhymes. Yet folks say--"Maevius is no ass:"-- But Maevius makes it clear, That he's a monster of an ass, An ass without an ear. 1797. INSCRIPTION BY THE REV. W. L. BOWLES IN NETHER STOWEY CHURCH. Lætus abi! mundi strepitu curisque remotus; Lætus abi! cæli qua vocat alma quies. Ipsa Fides loquitur, lacrymamque incusat inanem, Quae cadit in vestros, care pater, cineres. Heu! tantum liceat meritos hos solvere ritus, Et longum tremula dicere voce, Vale! TRANSLATION. Depart in joy from this world's noise and strife To the deep quiet of celestial life! Depart!--Affection's self reproves the tear Which falls, O honour'd Parent! on thy bier;-- Yet Nature will be heard, the heart will swell, And the voice tremble with a last Farewell! INTRODUCTION TO THE TALE OF THE DARK LADIE. The following poem is intended as the introduction to a somewhat longer one. The use of the old ballad word 'Ladie' for Lady, is the only piece of obsoleteness in it; and as it is professedly a tale of ancient times, I trust that the affectionate lovers of venerable antiquity, as Camden says, will grant me their pardon, and perhaps may be induced to admit a force and propriety in it. A heavier objection may be adduced against the author, that in these times of fear and expectation, when novelties explode around us in all directions, he should presume to offer to the public a silly tale of old-fashioned love: and five years ago, I own I should have allowed and felt the force of this objection. But alas! explosion has succeeded explosion so rapidly, that novelty itself ceases to appear new; and it is possible that now, even a simple story, wholly uninspired with politics or personality, may find some attention amid the hubbub of revolutions, as to those who have remained a long time by the falls of Niagara, the lowest whispering becomes distinctly audible. 1799. O leave the lily on its stem; O leave the rose upon the spray; O leave the elder-bloom, fair maids! And listen to my lay. A cypress and a myrtle-bough This morn around my harp you twin'd, Because it fashion'd mournfully Its murmurs in the wind. And now a tale of love and woe, A woful tale of love I sing; Hark, gentle maidens, hark! it sighs And trembles on the string. But most, my own dear Genevieve, It sighs and trembles most for thee! O come and hear the cruel wrongs Befell the Dark Ladie! [1] ...