Oh! 'tis our country's voice, whose claim should meet
An echo in the soul's most deep retreat;
Along the heart's responding chords should run,
Nor let a tone there vibrate--but the one!
VARIETY.
Ask what prevailing, pleasing power
Allures the sportive, wandering bee
To roam untired, from flower to flower,
He'll tell you, 'tis variety.
Look Nature round; her features trace,
Her seasons, all her changes see;
And own, upon Creation's face,
The greatest charm's variety.
For me, ye gracious powers above!
Still let me roam, unfixt and free;
In all things,--but the nymph I love
I'll change, and taste variety.
But, Patty, not a world of charms
Could e'er estrange my heart from thee;--
No, let me ever seek those arms.
There still I'll find variety.
TO A BOY, WITH A WATCH,
WRITTEN FOR A FRIEND
Is it not sweet, beloved youth,
To rove through Erudition's bowers,
And cull the golden fruits of truth,
And gather Fancy's brilliant flowers?
And is it not more sweet than this,
To feel thy parents' hearts approving,
And pay them back in sums of bliss
The dear, the endless debt of loving?
It must be so to thee, my youth;
With this idea toil is lighter;
This sweetens all the fruits of truth,
And makes the flowers of fancy brighter.
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