The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 172

On Wednesday evening last, by the Rev. Uzal Ogden, Mr. CHARLES GOBERT, Merchant, of this city, to Miss CHARLOTTE OGDEN, eldest daughter of Mr.

Lewis Ogden.

On Thursday evening last, by the Rev. Dr. M'Knight, Mr. ARCHIBALD M'WILLIAMS, Grocer, late of the Albany Pier, to the amiable Miss NANCY GOOLDSMITH, a native of the Isle of Man.

_TO CORRESPONDENTS._

[->] THE EDITORS acknowledge the receipt of "ZULINDUS;" which shall appear in our next. We court the favors of those Correspondents who have heretofore expanded their hearts, expressive, by a love for supporting and promoting the a.s.siduous endeavors of the proprietors of this useful and entertaining vehicle; and we rest in hope, that the warm rays of Aurora will have such an happy effect upon the intellectual mind, that we may witness, not only the fertile verdure of reviving nature, but the growing state of Literature, and the happy profusions of the Muse.

_METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS._ _From the 30th ult. to the 6th inst._

THERMOMETOR observed at 6, _A.M._ 3, _P.M._ Prevailing winds.

OBSERVATIONS on the WEATHER.

deg. deg. 6. 3. 6. 3.

100 100 April 30 52 59 e. ne. cly. lt. wd. do. do. ra.

May 1 56 70 s. do. cloudy calm cl. lt. wd.

2 51 58 e. do. cloudy h. wd. ra. l. w.

3 42 47 nw. se. cloudy lt. w. do. do.

4 50 68 sw. nw. cloudy lt wd. clr do.

5 50 51 se. do. clr. calm cly. h. wd. ra.

6 51 68 nw. sw. clear lt. wd. do. do.

NEW MAY.

A Pastoral.

As down by the wood-land I stray'd, Where daisies enamell'd the way, Where Flora her frolics had play'd, Unveiling her charms to the day; The warblers awaken'd the song, The dew-drops hung down on the thorn, The Zephyrs went gently along, And Phbus embellish'd the morn.

In rapture I went through the grove, Delighted with richest perfume, Saw nature devoted to love, And the birds their fond labours resume; The lark had its ditty re-told, The blackbird was heard from the vine, The herdsman was driving from fold, And sung, "'Tis a shame to repine."

With grat.i.tude musing I view'd The landskip, so splendidly dress'd; Gay Fancy her magic renew'd, Imprinting her scenes on my breast: When lo! from an op'ning I saw A damsel come tripping the glade; I trembled with transport and awe, Afraid to offend the sweet maid.

No language her charms could unfold, No pencil her beauties display, Her hair hung like ringlets of gold, Her eye was the di'mond's bright ray; Her bosom the lily out-vy'd, Her lips which I panted to view, In the blush of the rose-bud were dy'd, And her fingers all glitter'd with dew.

Her head with a chaplet was dress'd, Of May-flow'rs and cowslips combin'd, A garland hung over her breast, With blue-bells and vi'lets entwin'd; Her garment, in negligent flow, Her graces all artless display'd-- 'Twas dipp'd in the tint of the bow That Iris in April had made.

New flowrets her footsteps bestrew'd, For all was enchantment around, The cuckow her ballad renew'd, And mix'd with the music her sound-- Forgive me ye pow'rs! if I bow'd To worship a form so divine, A mortal might sure be allow'd To bend at a G.o.ddess's shrine.

I gaz'd as each look were my last; With rapture I think on her now-- And said as she carelessly pa.s.s'd, 'Thy name to thy vot'ry avow-- Say, nymph, so delightful and gay, Art thou from the mansions above?'

She smil'd and she answer'd--'NEW MAY, AND MINE ARE THE MANSIONS OF LOVE.'

LOVE.

Cold blows the wind upon the mountain's brow, In murmuring cadence wave the silv'ry woods, The feather'd tribes mope on the leafless bough, And icy fetters hold the silent floods; But endless spring, the POET's breast shall prove, Whose GENIUS kindles at the torch of LOVE.

For him, unfading blooms the fertile mind, The current of the heart for ever flows; Fearless, his bosom braves the wintry wind, While thro' each nerve eternal summer glows; In vain would chilling APATHY controul The lambent fires that warm the lib'ral soul.

To me, the limpid brook the painted mead, The crimson dawn, the twilight's purple close, The mirthful dance, the SHEPHERD's tuneful reed, The musky fragrance of the opening ROSE; To me, alas! all pleasures senseless prove, Save, the sweet converse of the FRIEND I LOVE.

LIFE.

Love, thou sportive, fickle boy, Source of anguish, child of joy; Ever wounding, ever smiling, Soothing still, and still beguiling; What are all thy boasted treasures?

Tender sorrows, transient pleasures; Anxious hopes, and jealous fears, LAUGHING HOURS, AND MOURNING YEARS.

What is FRIENDSHIP's soothing name?

But a shadowy, vap'rish flame; Fancy's balm, for ev'ry wound, Ever sought, but rarely found.

What is BEAUTY? but a flow'r, Blooming, fading, in an hour; Deck'd with brightest tints at morn, At twilight, with'ring on a thorn; Like the gentle ROSE of spring; Chill'd by ev'ry Zephyr's wing; Ah! how soon its colour flies, Blushes, trembles, falls, and DIES.

What is YOUTH? in smiling sorrow, Blithe to-day, and sad to-morrow: Never fix'd, for ever ranging, Laughing, weeping, doating, changing; Wild, capricious, giddy, vain, Cloy'd with pleasure, nurs'd with pain; Ev'ry moment LIFE's decaying, BLISS expires, while TIME's delaying; AGE steals on with wintry face, Ev'ry rapt'rous HOPE to chase; Like a wither'd sapless tree Bow'd to chilling FATE's decree; Stripp'd of all its foliage gay, Drooping at the close of day.

What of tedious LIFE remains?

Keen regrets, and cureless pains; Till DEATH appears a welcome FRIEND, And bid the scene of SORROW end.

_NEW-YORK: PRINTED BY JOHN TIEBOUT, NO. 358, PEARL-STREET, FOR THOMAS BURLING, JUN. & CO. +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per quarter) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and at the Circulating Library of Mr. J. FELLOWS, No. 60, Wall-Street._

THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE; or, Miscellaneous Repository.

+Vol. II.+] +Wednesday, May 17, 1797.+ [+No. 98.+

_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._

It has often been made a question on my mind, Whether the multiplicity of books in circulation are an advantage or disadvantage to the morals of youth?--That every book ought to be investigated, and that with an impartial eye before we condemn it, is a fact incontestible. None but the prejudiced, the weak and the ignorant, will ever attempt to persuade youth from the pursuit of wisdom. A man possessed of the least spark of knowledge, would blush to advise others from the investigation of truth.