Lo, where yon woodbines clust'ring gay
Perfume th' impurpled green-
Where drops pale Hesper's pensive ray,
Thy saintly form is seen!

Thine arms beneath thy moveless breast
Seem folded in eternal rest;

Refulgent is thy lifted eye;
Thy step, by careful glow-worms led,
Unseen and silent as the tread
Of dark futurity!

O, still, when purple ev'ning glows
Athwart the shadowy hour,
The venerable train disclose

That own thy thoughtful pow'r;
Pale Wisdom, round whose awful head
The stars a wondrous halo shed;

And Truth, that rends the mask of vice;

And Fancy with her thousand beams;

And Innocence, whose airy dreams
Are weav'd in Paradise!

Still, while the stream of life swells high
Within this glowing heart,

To eager youth's regardful eye

Thy steadier beam impart;

And when pale Death, with noiseless flight, Wrapt in the shivering shades of night,

Steals slow from some Lethean Isle,

O, bid the uplifted eye unclose,

Look back where Life's green landscape glows Nor shut without A SMILE.

SONG *.

THE SENTIMENTS BORROWED FROM SHAKESPEARE.

YOUNG Damon of the vale is dead,

Ye lowland hamlets moan;

A dewy turf lies o'er his head,

And at his feet a stone,

His shroud, which death's cold damps destroy,
Of snow-white threads was made:

All mourn'd to see so sweet a boy

In earth for ever laid.

Pale pansies o'er his corpse were plac'd,
Which, pluck'd before their time,
Bestrew'd the boy like him to waste,
And wither in their prime.

But will he ne'er return, whose tongue

Could tune the rural lay?

Ah, no! his bell of

peace

His lips are cold as clay.

is rung,

This Poem is said by Mr. Headley, to have been written by William Collins, though not in his works.

They bore him out at twililight hour,
The youth, who lov'd so well:
Ah me! how many a true-love shower
Of kind remembrance fell!

Each maid was woe-but Lucy chief;
Her grief o'er all was tried;
Within his grave she dropp'd in grief,
And o'er her lov'd-one died.

ANACREONTIC.

NATURE made this world for joy, Surely not for pain and care; Laughing loves my thoughts employ, Not the surly fiend despair.

When a dull philosophy,

Would persuade from bliss to part,

From the stupid lore I fly,

Trusting NATURE and my heart.

And tho' Wisdom's rigid sons,

May my simple heart reprove; Let them have what pleasure shuns, Give me music, wine, and love.

LINES,

WRITTEN ON THE LAMENTED DEATH OF

LORD VISCOUNT NELSON,

DUKE OF BRONTI,

In the glorious Victory obtained on the 21st of October, 1805, by the British Fleet, under his Lordship's Command, over the combined Fleets of France and Spain.

BY WILLIAM CAREY, ESQ.

OH lov'd and cherish'd, as thy country's boast!
Thy voice a triumph! and thy name a host!
Oh gallant Chief, in battle long renown'd,
In death, by VICTORY, and GLORY crown'd!
While we thy fall, with fruitless grief, deplore,
Our pride, our brave defender, now no more!
Our prostrate foes, with savage joy elate,
Look up, forgetful of their vanquish'd state,
Throw off their fears, their future conquests see,
And deem our fleets and armies lost in thee!-

"Presumptuous Hope !" BRITANNIA proudly cries, Indignant lightnings flashing from her eyes"What though my Hero, late your country's dread, "My mighty Hero, slumbers with the dead; "Though he my conquering navies, now, no more, "Shall lead to triumph on your frighted shore; "No more shall launch my thunders on the flood, And die the ocean with your streaming blood;

"Yet think not long, to 'scape the vengeance due;
"A thousand Chiefs his gallant course pursue;
"A thousand Heroes equal honours claim,
"And emulate his dangers and his fame;
"With pious tears, upon his shade, they call,
"And swear to perish or avenge his fall.

"Fly, then,-in time, from sure destruction fly: "And, safely vaunting, in your harbours lie. "Should all your armaments, restored again, "With thrice-told numbers, dare attempt the main, "Should they my people to the conflict brave, "No flight shall screen them, and no force shall save: "My dauntless sons your numbers will despise, "And EVERY BRITON WILL A NELSON RISE; "His martial Spirit, in their van shall sweep, "And sun-bright GLORY lead them o'er the deep; "Pale fear shall freeze your trembling crews, too late, "Struck speechless by inexorable Fate;

"On ships and men consuming fires shall fall, "And one tremendous ruin bury all.

"But oh! what honours-what immortal fame, "Shall Europe consecrate to Nelson's name?

"Fired with the glorious theme, through ev'ry clime "Shall radiant Genius wing her flight sublime. "The deathless Muse, in sweet majestic lays, "His splendid palms amid the stars shall raise; "While, safe, on earth, from War's destroying rage, "His virtues flourish in a Roscoe's page. "Creative Art shall catch the flame divine, "And simple Grandeur stamp her bold design: "In warlike pomp his battles shall be shown, "And all his triumphs live in brass and stone: "The statue warm with life, the breathing bust, "The trophied urn, shall grace his sacred dust.