LAURA MATILDA'S DIRGE.

Balmy Zephyrs, lightly flitting,

Shade me with your azure wing;

On Parnassus’ summit sitting,

Aid me, Clio, while I sing.

Softly slept the dome of Drury

O'er the empyreal crest,

When Alecto's sister-fury

Softly slumb'ring sunk to rest.

Lo! from Lemnos limping lamely,

Lags the lowly Lord of Fire,

Cytherea yielding tamely

To the Cyclops dark and dire.

Clouds of amber, dreams of gladness,

Dulcet joys and sports of youth,

Soon must yield to haughty sadness;

Mercy holds the veil to Truth.

See Erostratas the second

Fires again Diana's fane;

By the Fates from Orcus beckon'd,

Clouds envelop Drury Lane.

Where is Cupid's crimson motion?

Billowy ecstasy of woe,

Bear me straight, meandering ocean,

Where the stagnant torrents flow.

Blood in every vein is gushing,

Vixen vengeance lulls my heart;

See, the Gorgon gang is rushing!

Never, never let us part.