Crown me a cheerful goblet, while I pray A blessing on thy years, young Isola; Young, but no more a child. How swift have flown To me thy girlish times, a woman grown Beneath my heedless eyes! in vain I rack My fancy to believe the almanac, That speaks thee Twenty-One. Thou shouldst have still Remain'd a child, and at thy sovereign will Gambol'd about our house, as in times past. Ungrateful Emma, to grow up so fast, Hastening to leave thy friends!--for which intent, Fond Runagate, be this thy punishment: After some thirty years, spent in such bliss As this earth can afford, where still we miss Something of joy entire, may'st thou grow old As we whom thou hast left! That wish was cold. O far more aged and wrinkled, till folks say, Looking upon thee reverend in decay, "This Dame, for length of days, and virtues rare, With her respected Grandsire may compare." Grandchild of that respected Isola, Thou shouldst have had about thee on this day Kind looks of Parents, to congratulate Their Pride grown up to woman's grave estate. But they have died, and left thee, to advance Thy fortunes how thou may'st, and owe to chance The friends which nature grudged. And thou wilt find, Or make such, Emma, if I am not blind To thee and thy deservings. That last strain Had too much sorrow in it. Fill again Another cheerful goblet, while I say "Health, and twice health, to our lost Isola." * * * * * SHE IS GOING. For their elder Sister's hair Martha does a wreath prepare Of bridal rose, ornate and gay; To-morrow is the wedding-day. She is going. Mary, youngest of the three, Laughing idler, full of glee, Arm in arm does fondly chain her, Thinking, poor trifler, to detain her-- But she's going. Vex not, maidens, nor regret Thus to part with Margaret. Charms like yours can never stay Long within doors; and one day You'll be going. SONNETS. * * * * * HARMONY IN UNLIKENESS. By Enfield lanes, and Winchmore's verdant hill, Two lovely damsels cheer my lonely walk: The fair Maria, as a vestal, still; And Emma brown, exuberant in talk. With soft and Lady speech the first applies The mild correctives that to grace belong To her redundant friend, who her defies With jest, and mad discourse, and bursts of song. O differing Pair, yet sweetly thus agreeing, What music from your happy discord rises, While your companion hearing each, and seeing, Nor this nor that, but both together, prizes; This lesson teaching, which our souls may strike, That harmonies may be in things unlike! * * * * * WRITTEN AT CAMBRIDGE.