Literary Cadet And Rhode Island Statesman

FOR THE LITERARY CADET.

Messrs. Smith & Parmenter.-- If you will have the goodness to give place to the following selected effusion, you will greatly oblige a friend and a patron. It is, I believe, from the pen of Mrs. Anna Letitia Barbauld; and I have taken the liberty to address it to a female acquaintance who will undoubtedly appreciate its meaning.

H. FAULKNER.

TO ELIZABETH U***.

When gentle Celia first I knew,
A breast so good, so kind, so true,
Reason and taste approved;
Pleased to indulge so pure a flame,
I called it by too soft a name.
And fondly thought I loved.

Till Chloris came:--with sad surprise
I felt the lightning of her eyes
Through all my senses run;
I loving, with resistless charm,
Fill my breast with new alarms,
I knew not what, sudden.

Forbear the weakness to upbraid
Which ought your pity to move;
I know this beauty false and vain,
I know she trims her locks with art,
Yet still, I fear I love.

Thy gentle smiles no more can please,
Nor can thy softest friendship ease
The torments I endure:
Think what that wounded breast must feel,
Which truth and kindness cannot heal,
Nor cease thy pity cure.

Oft shall I curse my iron chain,
And wish again thy milder reign,
With long and vain regret;
All that I can, to thee I give;
And could I still to reason live,
I were thy captive yet.

But passion's wild tempestuous sea
Hurries me far from peace and thee
'Twere vain to struggle more:
Thus the poor sailor slumbering lies,
While swelling tides around him rise,
And push his bark from shore.

In vain he spreads, his helpless arms,
In vain despising friends, with fond alarms
In vain deplore his state;
Still far, and farther, from the coast,
On the high surge his bark is tossed,
And wandering yield, to fate.