MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Yet not like her's, still shunning to be seen, And by their fragrant breath, alone, betray'd, Veil'd in the vestur? of a scantier green, To every gazer are thy flowers display'd. Thus, Virtue's garb Hypocrisy may wear, Kneel as she kneels, or give as she has given, But, ah, no meek retiring worth is there, No incense of the heart exhales to heaven ! 155 THE EXILE. A raSSH gale �h? tops of the white billows curl'd, The anchor was lifted, the sails were unfurl'd; And the ship, as the waves she triumphantly prest, Left a long track 0flight on the ocean's green breast. His arms sadly cross'd o'er a bosom of woe, A time-wither'd Exile stood high on the prow; His thoughts might be traced on his forehead of care But no tear dimm'd his eye,--it was glazed by despair. ......... ?Google
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