In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart, In vain do we vow for an age to be true; The chance of an hour may command us to part, Or Death disunite us, in Love's last adieu! 3. Still Hope, breathing peace, through the grief-swollen breast, [i] Will whisper, "Our meeting we yet may renew:" With this dream of deceit, half our sorrow's represt, Nor taste we the poison, of Love's last adieu! 4. Oh! mark you yon pair, in the sunshine of youth, Love twin'd round their childhood his flow'rs as they grew; They flourish awhile, in the season of truth, Till chill'd by the winter of Love's last adieu! 5. Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way, Down a cheek which outrivals thy bosom in hue? Yet why do I ask?--to distraction a prey, Thy reason has perish'd, with Love's last adieu! 6. Oh! who is yon Misanthrope, shunning mankind? From cities to caves of the forest he flew: There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind; The mountains reverberate Love's last adieu! 7. Now Hate rules a heart which in Love's easy chains, Once Passion's tumultuous blandishments knew; Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins, He ponders, in frenzy, on Love's last adieu! 8. How he envies the wretch, with a soul wrapt in steel! His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few, Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel, And dreads not the anguish of Love's last adieu! 9. Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o'ercast; No more, with Love's former devotion, we sue: He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of affection is Love's last adieu! 10. In this life of probation, for rapture divine, Astrea[1] declares that some penance is due; From him, who has worshipp'd at Love's gentle shrine, The atonement is ample, in Love's last adieu! 11. Who kneels to the God, on his altar of light Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew: His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight, His cypress, the garland of Love's last adieu! [Footnote 1: The Goddess of Justice.] [Footnote i: _Still, hope-beaming peace._ ['P. on V. Occasions.']] LINES. [i] ADDRESSED TO THE REV. J. T. BECHER, [1] ON HIS ADVISING THE AUTHOR TO MIX MORE WITH SOCIETY. 1. Dear BECHER, you tell me to mix with mankind; I cannot deny such a precept is wise; But retirement accords with the tone of my mind: I will not descend to a world I despise. 2. Did the Senate or Camp my exertions require, Ambition might prompt me, at once, to go forth; When Infancy's years of probation expire, Perchance, I may strive to distinguish my birth. 3. The fire, in the cavern of Etna, conceal'd, Still mantles unseen in its secret recess; At length, in a volume terrific, reveal'd, No torrent can quench it, no bounds can repress. 4.