My father saw my constant pain,
When thee I left behind,
Nor longer will his power restrain,
The ties my soul would bind.

And soon thy honor'd sire shall cease
The captive's lot to bear,
And we, my love, will soothe to peace
His griefs, with filial care.

Then come for ever to my soul!
Amelia come, and prove!
How calm our blissful years will roll,
Along a life of love!--



SONNET,

To MRS. BATES.


Oh, thou whose melody the heart obeys,
Thou who can'st all its subject passions move,
Whose notes to heav'n the list'ning soul can raise,
Can thrill with pity, or can melt with love!
Happy! whom nature lent this native charm;
Whose melting tones can shed with magic power,
A sweeter pleasure o'er the social hour,