Massachusetts Spy And Worcester Advertiser

[FOR THE MASSACHUSETTS SPY.]
THE SNOW FLAKE

Tis the last flake of winter, that hovers alone,
Its lovely companions are melted and flown.
Dost thou linger to search for a rest, that may be,
In pureness and beauty, congenial to thee?

O, seek then the maiden, whose dark glossy hair,
On her bright forehead parted-a Heaven opes there;
Where her mild arching brow is a promise of peace,
That her eyes joyous sunshine never shall cease.

'Twere folly to paint what 'tis danger to see,
And the light of her eyes is too dazzling for me.
Then follow the ray that is azure and bright,
As thy own native skies, 'twill conduct thee aright.

Her polish'd cheek shines with love's purple light,
Like twilight's sweet blush, when the sun bids good night;
Cupid sports in her dimple, alert to secure
The numerous victims, her smiles will allure.

But cease, my rude numbers, young Mary is near;
My praise, so unequal, no gazer could hear.
Go rest in the palm of her soft taper hand,
The envy, the pride, the desire of the land.

It has melted and vanish'd; her hand can receive,
But the cold tear of sorrow that nought can relieve.
Too long hast thou boasted, fair child of the storm,
Thy splendor of color, thy beauty of form.

O, pause, lovely girl, e'er thou shake to the dust,
The perishing stranger, who made thee her trust;
For, with lessons of love and lessons of life,
The fate of the pitiful snow flake is rife.

When winter sent forth her bright daughters to cheer
And gladden with splendor the desolate year;"
This proud one would soar, till it sinks to the dust,
Cold, dark, and unlovely, my Mary's disgust.

So, thou art from Heaven and destin'd to earth,
So, thou boastest thy beauty and prizest thy worth,
Above the glad homage, which creatures may pay
To the glory of youth, which must vanish away.

Though 'tis true, that thy beauty no equal can find,
And no man dare compete with the charms of thy mind,
There are fond hearts, all pure and devoted to thine.
And minds, which thy converse will raise and refine.

The cold pride of conquest may chill thy young heart,
Till the pride, with the power of thy charms shall depart;
Then thou too shall melt, and the snow flake shall be,
In the blighting of age, a sad emblem of thee

CLARENCE.