After long toils, and various hardships borne, Our gen’rous blood the vanquish’d foe repays; But now I droop in poverty forlorn, And mourn the triumphs of my youthful days. Frowning the soldier told his piteous tale, Ah! what to him the humbled pride of Spain? He help’d to conquer, what does it avail? He now is left to poverty and pain. Forever blessed be the bounteous heart, That may the suppliant child of woe receive, The blessings favouring fortune gave impart, To me that fortune gives but to relieve. MATILDA. New-York, 1775. * * * * * _For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._ * * * TWILIGHT. A Sonnet. “The West yet glimm’ring with some streaks of day “Now spurs the lated traveller apace “To gain the timely inn.” _Shakespeare._ Bright Sol retiring o’er the western hills, With parting radiance gilds the village spire: In other realms his healing office fills, To other climes emits beatific fire. The dusky shades of twilight now preside, And wrap the Hamlet in a solemn gloom; The labours of the industrious hind subside, The weary shepherd seeks his peaceful home. At this lone hour, in contemplative mood, Near some remote and solitary wood, To calm his grief the mourning lover strays: The nightingale in sympathetic strain, Warbling its plaintive notes, relieves his pain, While gentle zephyr ev’ry sigh conveys. ALEXIS. New-York, July 27, 1796. * * * * * * * * * _For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._ * * * _Lines sent to a Young Lady with an Æolian Harp._ Ye zephyrs who delighted stray O’er every grace which Flora wears, Hither direct your airy way, For worthier scenes demand your cares. Within these strings, in soft suspense, The latest powers of music rest; Oh, draw their tendered accent hence To soothe and charm my Sally’s breast. Should sorrow ever enter there, (For merit is no shield from woe) Disperse the Demons of despair, And teach the softening tear to flow. And e’en when rapture’s maniac train, Shall wildly seize the impassion’d soul, O, let some sweetly-plaintive strain, The blissful agony control. The feeling bosom illy bears The dire extremes of grief and joy, For anguish every sense impairs, And cruel “transports oft destroy.” And still each pensive hour to cheer, Let friendship raise her gentle voice; And when she seeks a friend sincere, Direct to me the envied choice. MONIMIA. New-York, May, 1796. * * * * * +For the New-York Weekly Magazine.+ * * * CUPID STUNG.