7.

"When thy fond Inamorato,

Waiving scrupulous finesse,

Pops the question grave, legato,
Frown not, Sweet! nor speak staccato:
Warm as Love's own Muse-Erato,
Answer allegretto-'Yes!""
8.

Juliet, from her slumbers waking,
Slowly to the lattice drew,

Like the sun, when day is breaking,
Yet, like Cynthia, cold and quaking,
And gazed on her minstrel, making
Music, soft as evening-dew:

9.

"Dost thou, artful Gondoliero!

Seek a bona-roba here?

Cold my pulse sinks, down to Zero:
Would'st thou be my cavaliero,

Doff the coxcomb: play the hero:
Woman loves a manly peer.

10.

"Bandit-pirate-virtuoso

Bona-fide Men may be:

But mere fops are not, you know, so:
Many a melting penseroso

Sentimental Amoroso

Florence owns, all sighs, like thee!

11.

"Juliet no gallant wants"-[" Heigho!"]
"But as suitor, noble-true,

If thou com'st (no cicisbeo
Dark as scelerat Mario,)

“That last sacred pledge hath bound thee
To thine Antoine's breast for ever:
My feign'd prelude-not to wound thee—
But a touchstone was, to sound thee:
By yon holy heavens around thee—

From true-love, my soul swerved never!

13.

"To the Pole, the needle turneth—

The impression to the seal

Vulcan's flame still heavenward burneth

And this heart, that falsehood spurneth, Beats not-save for Juliet's weal!

14.

"Dream not I can e'er forget thee—
Mirror'd-not on glass or sea—

There to glimpse and then regret thee:
No! From the first hour I met thee,
Love, on Memory's Tablet, set thee

Graven-till I cease to be!

15.

"On thy head, for Heaven's best blessing,
Daily shall my prayers ascend-

And when, round thee, woes are pressing—
I will soothe thy griefs, caressing

With affection never-ceasing,

Till, above, our spirits blend.

16.

"Speed the moments hovering o'er a
Pair, now one, till Life departs!
Fare-thee-well, until Aurora1:
Beauty-like the charms of Flora—
Wins the eye, my chaste Signora !
But fair Virtue conquers hearts!”

TO THE COMPOSER, SCENE-PAINTER, AND STAGE-MANAGER.

1.

MODEL this mélange erratic,

For some Cantatrice and Beau

To perform in style dramatic,

With rich music operatic:

Time-midnight and scene-aquatic:

Myrtles shading, in a row:

(1) The morning.

2.

Wrapp'd in female toga, quilted, Show the Prima Donna bright: And the Signor, capp'd and kilted, With stiletto, diamond-hilted, Visage blank, like Lover jilted,

Or some ancient, dolorous knight.

3.

Next, for lute and seraphina,
Cut it to a Canzonet,

By Sir Plume and Ringlettina,
(And before some sour Duenna

Starch and brown as burnt sienna,)

To be play'd as a Duett.

ODE TO KOSSUTH. 1

ང.

HAIL to the Champion of Freedom!
Hail to the bold Refugee

From the yoke of an Egypt-the rod of an Edom-
To the Isle of the Brave and the Free!

(1) Ludovicus (Lewis) Kossuth is a name too well known in England to need much introduction. A Hungarian by birth, and bred to the Bar-a Senator and a Soldier by genius and by intuition-this Prince of Nature's nobles rose from her ranks to the office of Governor (virtually King) of Hungary. Endowed with first-rate talents and eloquence, he pleaded his country's cause at Vienna so well, that the Imperial Cabinet granted a charter, which they afterwards basely annulled. Though not trained to the Military Profession, Kossuth roused his compatriots to arms, and, with a little band of heroes, repeatedly defeated the Austrian legions, and subsequently those of Austria and Russia united. His ultimate success seemed certain; but-there was a traitor in his camp: General Georgey, (his Lieutenant-General,) of infamous memory, deserted with his forces to the enemy's ranks; the latter triumphed, and Kossuth, driven to exile, (after a long incarceration in a prison, in a Turkish frontier town,) was permitted by the Sultan to leave his territory and embark for England, where he was enthusiastically received in the Autumn of 1851. During a long imprisonment in Austria, he had learned, (by means of an English Grammar, and a copy of Shakspeare's "Tempest,") the English language, which he has since wielded with a power rivalled by no foreign, and few native, Orators.

The above Ode and Note were written on the arrival of the exiled Chief in this country, in 1851; the allusion to the European War of National Independence (of 1854) in the last stanza, was inserted afterwards, (June 20th, 1854,) as germane to the theme.