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A CHARADE, BY PROFESSOR PORSON.
My first is the lot which is destined by fate,
For my second to meet with in ev'ry state;
My third is by many philosophers reckoned,
To bring very often my first to my second.
My first is the lot which is destined by fate,
For my second to meet with in ev'ry state;
My third is by many philosophers reckoned,
To bring very often my first to my second.
ANSWER
If your first—and no doubt the position is true—
Be the lot of your second, that lot is his due;
For your second too often, alas I have heard,
Brings (shame on such monsters) your first to your third.
If your first—and no doubt the position is true—
Be the lot of your second, that lot is his due;
For your second too often, alas I have heard,
Brings (shame on such monsters) your first to your third.
——— They shall send,
In the same language, the same player to heaven,
And each, remembering each in piety,
Pray for the other's welfare. Southey.
In the same language, the same player to heaven,
And each, remembering each in piety,
Pray for the other's welfare. Southey.
Waters of Elle! thy limpid streams are flowing
Smooth and untroubled through the flow'ry vale;
O'er the green banks once more the wild rose blowing,
Greets the young spring, and scents the passing gale.
Smooth and untroubled through the flow'ry vale;
O'er the green banks once more the wild rose blowing,
Greets the young spring, and scents the passing gale.
Here 'twas at eve, near yonder tree reposing,
One still too dear, first breathed his vows to thee:
Wear this, he cried, his guileful love disclosing,
Near to thy heart in memory of me.
One still too dear, first breathed his vows to thee:
Wear this, he cried, his guileful love disclosing,
Near to thy heart in memory of me.
Love's cherished gift, the rose he gave is faded;
Love's blighted flower can never bloom again.
Love's blighted flower can never bloom again.
