The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq ::

When first in Eden's roseate bowers,
Gay, youthful Nature held her throne,
Around her tripped the blithesome Hours,
And all the Loves and Graces shone.

Celestial Virtue saw the dame,
Enthroned amid her joyful band,
And glowing with Affection's flame,
He blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand.

Struck with his tall, majestick form,
His rosy cheek, his sparkling eye,
Her breast received a strange alarm,
And unsuppressed, returned the sigh.

At Hymen's shrine no vows are paid,
For mutual love their hearts unites;
Carols were sung from every shade,
And Eden echoed with delights.

At length, their pleasures to complete,
Fair Happiness their amours blest;
Gay was her form, her temper sweet,
And mildest charms adorned her breast;

Mild as the bosom of the lake,
When Zephyr from the western cave
Dares not the level chrystal break,
And breathes a perfume o'er the wave.

But joy on eagle pinions flies;
Thus oft in June's resplendent morn,
When golden lustre paints the skies,
Thick lowering clouds the heavens deform.

Beneath the earth's dark centre hurled,
Where on their grating hinges groan
The portals of the nether world,
Apostate Vice had raised her throne.

A spirit of angelick birth;
But blemished now with blackest stains,
Degraded far below the earth,
To realms, where endless darkness reigns.

Far from his ebon palace strayed
This fiend to earth with giant pace;
His eyes a lurid frown displayed,
And horror darkened all his face.

Through Eden's shady scenes he roves;
A sweetly warbling voice he hears;
When, lo, beneath the distant groves,
Nature in sportive dance appears!

He saw, he gazed with rapture warm,
Resolved to gain the fair one's heart;
His haggard, foul, disgusting form,
He decks in all the charms of art.

His face, o'erclouded late with gloom,
His limbs, in tattered garb arrayed,
Assumed the flush of youthful bloom,
The pomp of regal robes displayed.

Dazzling with gems, a crown he bore;
'Twas grace his easy motions led;
A gentle smile his features wore,
And round a sweet enchantment spread.

From his smooth tongue sweet poison flowed;
Fair Innocence, her careless heart
Decoyed, forsook her native road,
Lost in the wilderness of art.

Sad tears and bosom-rending sighs
The mournful nymph pours forth in vain;
Vain are the streams of Sorrow's eyes,
To wash away the crimson stain.

Hopeless she wandered and forlorn,
In bitterest woe; her plaintive tale
Was heard, the echo of the lawn,
And the sad ditty of each gale.

While thus she roved in deep disgrace,
Her bosom torn with conscious shame,
An infant from the foul embrace
Is born, and Misery is her name.

Her eyes emit a haggard glare;
Her mien a savage soul expressed;
With grim Medusa's snaky hair;
And all the father stood confessed.

The groves, which once, in green array,
The admiring eye attentive kept,
No more appeared in verdure gay;
And Eden's fading beauties wept.

Pale was the sun, with clouds obscure;
Wild Lamentation mourned in vain
To cleanse the soul, with guilt impure,
And reinstate the golden reign.

Beauty 's a flower of early doom,
Exposed to all the intrigues of art;
For when is lost its tender bloom,
The thorn is left, a bleeding heart.

Triumphant Vice to his drear courts
Returns to rule the infernal plains;
There Misery with her sire resorts,
To forge for man her torturing chains.

But Virtue, to redeem the earth,
In Eden opes his tranquil seats;
Asylum safe of injured worth,
Here Happiness with him retreats!

Virtue and Vice, with clashing sway,
The empire of the world divide;
Vice oft deludes the feet astray,
But Virtue is the surest guide.

Vice, in whose form no grace is seen,
Assumes detested Flattery's guise;
Veils in a smile her hideous mien,
And captivates weak mortal eyes.

While Virtue, in each beauty decked,
In spotless purity arrayed,
Our wandering footsteps would direct,
But blinded man disdains his aid.

Severe Experience soon will learn
The stubborn bosom to repent;
The opened eyes too late discern,
What they must then in vain lament.

But see a kind deliverer rise!
Her feeling breast Compassion warms,
To purge this film from mortal eyes,
And strip delusion of its charms.

Behold Self-Knowledge quits the skies!
Ithuriel's magick spear she bears;
From her approach pale Error flies,
And all the mind's dark host appears.

Disrobed of all his borrowed plumes,
Gay Vice no more the eye allures;
While Virtue's native lustre blooms,
And with its charms the soul secures.

The wreath of once triumphant Vice
Now withers on his languid head;
No more his guiles the world entice,
For, with his fraud, his charms are fled.

Ye, whose excursive souls pretend
The Almighty's boundless power to scan;
Whose thoughts against the heavens contend,
Nor stoop to earth to think on man;

Who, like the lion in his cave,
Or eagle on his rocky height,
With swelling pride austerely grave,
Frown modest Virtue from your sight;

Who proudly view with scornful eyes
The tender scenes of social love;
Contemning Friendship's dearest ties;
The imps of self-dependent Jove;

Hear, learned fools: When life shall end,
Like the light cinders of a scroll,
Will stars or spheres from heaven descend,
To comfort your desponding soul?

Virtue alone can smooth the brow
Of haggard Death with smiles of joy;
Persuasive lead the sons of woe
To pleasures, which can never cloy.

Be Virtue then by all caressed!
Virtue the glooms of life will cheer;
With eye impartial search thy breast,
While Virtue lends a listening ear.

University of Virginia Library

[Blest be the sage, whose voice has sung]