Then to the green wood, caitiff, haste away: There take your chance to live--for Truth must say, We have no right, for theft, to hang up Tray. [376] First published in the _National Gazette_, Nov. 3, 1791. Sapola Island is one of the sea-islands of McIntosh County, Georgia, forty-two miles southwest of Savannah. The somewhat unusual proceeding of putting a worthless dog on shore, instead of the more common expedient of killing him at once, is only another evidence of the poet's kindly heart. Text from the edition of 1809. TO LYDIA[377] "_Tu procul a patria, ah dura! inculta deserta, Me sine, sola videbis----_ VIRG. ECLOG. Thus, safe arrived, she greets the strand, And leaves her pilot for the land; But Lydia, why to deserts roam, And thus forsake your floating home! To what fond care shall I resign The bosom, that must ne'er be mine: With lips, that glow beyond all art, Oh! how shall I consent to part!-- Long may you live, secure from woes, Late dying, meet a calm repose, And flowers, that in profusion grow, Bloom round your steps, where'er you go. On you all eyes delight to gaze, All tongues are lavish in your praise; With you no beauty can compare, Nor Georgia boast one flower so fair. Could I, fair girl, transmit this page, A present, to some future age, You should through every poem shine, You, be adored in every line: From Jersey coasts too loth to sail, Sighing, she left her native vale; Borne on a stream that met the main, Homeward she looked, and looked again. The gales that blew from off the land Most wantonly her bosom fanned, And, while around that heaven they strove, Each whispering zephyr owned his love. As o'er the seas, with you I strayed, The hostile winds our course delayed, But, proud to waft a charge so fair, To me were kind--and held you there. I could not grieve, when you complained That adverse gales our barque detained Where foaming seas to mountains grow, From gulphs of death, concealed below. When travelling o'er that lonely wave To me your feverish hand you gave, And sighing, bade me tell you, true, What lands again would rise to view! When night came on, with blustering gale, You feared the tempest would prevail, And anxious asked, if I was sure That on those depths we sailed secure? Delighted with a face so fair, I half forgot my weight of care, The dangerous shoal, that seaward runs, Encircled moons, and shrouded suns. With timorous heart and tearful eyes, You saw the deep Atlantic rise, Saw wintry clouds their storms prepare, And wept, to find no safety there. Throughout the long December's night, (While still your lamp was burning bright) To dawn of day from evening's close My pensive girl found no repose.