May call thee Sister, both in form and mind;
Thou do'st to all those envied charms transfuse,
Which shine so highly temper'd and refined.
Lady revered--the sunbeam and the rose
Are poor in beauty to sweet woman's smiles:
'Tis the bright sunset of life's awful close,
The Poet's deathless wreath! a spell all grief beguiles!

[Footnote 1: The Lady, to whom these lines are addressed has been greatly
noticed for the strong resemblance she bears to Mrs. Siddons.]



THE HELIOTROPE.

There is a flower, whose modest eye
Is turn'd with looks of light and love,
Who breathes her softest, sweetest sigh.
Whene'er the sun is bright above.

Let clouds obscure, or darkness veil,
Her fond idolatry is fled,
Her sighs no more their sweets exhale.
The loving eye is cold--and dead.

Canst thou not trace a moral here,
False flatterer of the prosperous hour?
Let but an adverse cloud appear,
And Thou art faithless, as the Flower!