’Twixt the departing

And the upstarting,
Happy to be;
And at the call of

Memory cherish’d,

Future and perish’d
Moments we see.

Seasons of anguish,—­

Ah, they must ever

Truth from woe sever,
Love and joy part;
Days still more worthy

Soon will unite us,

Fairer songs light us,
Strength’ning the heart.

We, thus united,

Think of, with gladness,

Rapture and sadness,
Sorrow now flies. 
Oh, how mysterious

Fortune’s direction!

Old the connection,

New-born the prize!

Thank, for this, Fortune,

Wavering blindly!

Thank all that kindly
Fate may bestow! 
Revel in change’s

Impulses clearer,

Love far sincerer,
More heartfelt glow!

Over the old one,

Wrinkles collected,

Sad and dejected,
Others may view;
But, on us gently

Shineth a true one,

And to the new one
We, too, are new.

As a fond couple

’Midst the dance veering,

First disappearing,
Then reappear,
So let affection

Guide thro’ life’s mazy

Pathways so hazy
Into the year!

1802.
-----
Anniversary song.

[This little song describes the different members of the party just spoken of.]

Why pacest thou, my neighbour fair,

The garden all alone? 
If house and land thou seek’st to guard,

I’d thee as mistress own.

My brother sought the cellar-maid,

And suffered her no rest;
She gave him a refreshing draught,

A kiss, too, she impress’d.

My cousin is a prudent wight,

The cook’s by him ador’d;
He turns the spit round ceaselessly,

To gain love’s sweet reward.

We six together then began

A banquet to consume,
When lo! a fourth pair singing came,

And danced into the room.

Welcome were they,—­and welcome too

Was a fifth jovial pair. 
Brimful of news, and stored with tales

And jests both new and rare.

For riddles, spirit, raillery,

And wit, a place remain’d;
A sixth pair then our circle join’d,

And so that prize was gain’d.

And yet to make us truly blest,

One miss’d we, and full sore;
A true and tender couple came,—­

We needed them no more.

The social banquet now goes on,

Unchequer’d by alloy;
The sacred double-numbers then

Let us at once enjoy!

1802.
-----
The spring Oracle.

Oh prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight! 
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
What a youthful pair would pray,
Do thou call, if hope they may: 
Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo. 
Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo!