Portland Gazette, And Maine Advertiser

FOR THE GAZETTE.

Woman's eye is like the Syrian flower.
That buds and fades, and withers in an hour

MR. ADAMS,

I AM an unfortunate young man and happiness is forever fled from my presence : love and grief has got possession of two corners of my heart, and thus they hold me : I have retired to the shades of solitude. where I am determined to tarry, till I drive the unfeeling tyrants hence. I seldom dip my pen in the fount of Parnassus, but I cannot refrain when grief has got possession of my heart.

Pleasure is grief but smiling to destroy.
And what is sorrow but the ghost of joy?

By publishing the following lines in your next Olio, you will oblige

SELIM.

To ****.

Oh cruel fair! oh hear my parting lay.
'Tis the only tribute I can make to you
For I have taught my painful heart to say,
Adieu! oh ****, ever more adieu!
How my voice repeats thy lovely name.
How oft it echoes thro' the lonely vale ;
And ever will till mortal Time remain,
Till meager Death my body doth assail.
When silence spreads her solemn mantle o'er
the mind;
And whispering phantoms hover o'er my mind;
I'll think on thee, and heal the gnawing wound;
And tell my sorrow to the passing wind.
My sighs shall mingle with the distant sound,
While sympathizing tears flow o'er my cheek:
Till life with ease smiles & happiness are found.
Where loves are pleasant and where joys are meek
All think when silent years have passed o'er,
How joy has crown'd us many a festive hour;
When sighs of love fast on our hearts did pour;
How soon the same became a broken flower.
Oh, let me lie beneath yon mountain's side
And there in silence hush my throbbing breast ;
For now alas ! 'tis on love's flowing tide.
And all my joyful hopes have sunk to rest.
Ah, think, oh ****, when fate shall give the day,
When, the pale tyrant's hand hath seal'd my doom;
My soul will fly to meet my parent God,
While Death doth lock my ashes in the tomb.
*There is joy in grief, when peace dwells
in the breast of the sad

OSSIAN.

Feb 26.