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With his rapt spirit round the ecliptic glow,
Or freeze beneatis the bears, in polar show;
Delighted, through the boundless realms of

space,
The great Crsator’s varicd power to trace;
Wliere gravitating worlds umunbered sweep
to beauteous order through yon azure deep;
While rapid coincts, with their burning rains,
Attend their progrees through those distant plains;
Their wasted ardours with new fires supply,
Aix} light the Atanies that blaze through all the sky.

• How vigorous Genitrs, on its eagle-wings,
Above terrestrial bonds triumphant springs!
All the dire rage of adverse fate defies,
And to its matise sphicres for refuge fies.
Mark! on yon northern hills, her darling child,
Wand'ring o’er many a bleak and barica wild;
Around him howls enraged the wintry gale,
And driving siect the illustrious youtli assail ;
Yet weither driving sleet inr blasting wind
Damp the keen formir of his active mind,
That scorns the limits of this nether sphere,
And bends to distant worlds its bold career.
Now, with the pastoral crook, his skilful hand
Draws heaven's vast circles in the drifted sand :
Now, with a string of thucaded heads, he shows
Wiere each bright star that gilds th' horizon glows;
Here the brvad Zodiac darts its central rays;
Hcre gleams Orion ; there the Pleiads blaze:

There myriad suus their blended beans combine,
To forn the Galaxy's refulgeat liue :
And, as one dazzling flood of light they pour,
Bid wondering wortal, tremble and adore.

• Doom'd still to be the sport of adverse fate,
Severer ills his ripening marhood wait:
Lo! at the quilt, a servile drudge, he toils,
In tasks at wlich the high-born mind recoits :
Ishausted through the long laborious day,
Llis nightier labours of the night survey;
Thos weary lids no balmy slumbers close',
No pause that active, ardent spirit knows;
But now, upborrie va liglitning pinions, lies
: Where tempesto gender, and dark whirlwinds rise:

In metaphysics now sublimcly svars,
Aad wide the intelicetual world explores ;
uit te with great Newton il mechanics towers,

Busests their secret laws and wonderous powers ;
Fathoms the biky ocean's bed profound,
Weighs the vast mass, and marks its mighty bound.
At length thy brows the well earned laurels crown,
And brinti, as lasting, spreads thy just renown.
The friend of Genius and its hallowed flame
Durotes this temple to thy tevernig name;

That long as stars shall shine, or oceans toll,

To kindred zeal shall rouse the aspiring soul.' The APIARY, which follows this article, is described with much poetical imagery :

Reflected from Augusta's glittering spires,
The sun darts tiercely kis meridian fres;
With brighter splendor shines each glistening stream,
While Nature pants beneath the fervid beam.
For shelter, from the sultry dog-star's heat,
To the deep glen the fainting herds retreat
Listless repose beneath the gloomy brake,
Or headlong plunge amid the cooling lake. .
Mark how intensely, while the blazing day
Pours on their glowing hives its ferecst ray,
Yon buzzing tribes pursue their ceaseless toil,
Loaded with all the garden's fragrant spoil;
Darkening the air, behold the unnumbered throng,
In driving swarms, harmonious, glide along;
All in strong bonds of social union join'o,
One mighey empire, one pervading mind:
No civil discords in that empire rage,
Save when on idle drones dire war they wage;
No tyrant's thundering scourge, nor rattling chain,
Disgrace the regent-mother's gentle reign;
Eternal laws to industry incite,
All, all to swell the pablie stores unite.
Oh! would the mighty states, whose thunders hurl'd
O’er ravaged Europe, awe the astonished world,
Oh! would they imitate the blameless race,
Whose mumerous lives their names conspicuous grace;
Their sigorous industry, their loyal zeal,
Their generous ardour for the public weal;
Be firmly bound by one grand social chain,

And bid through earth eternal concord reign!' There seems a small inaccuracy, which we did not expect from so orthodox a writer as Mr. M., in saying, p. 3, that Adam led by his Maker. (before the fall) 'tasted every fruit that decked the paradisaical bower.'

At pp. 7 and 8, the words bound and bounded seem rather too near neighbours. Pope's objection to “the repetition of the same thymes within four or six lines of each other, as tiresome to the ear through their monotony,” is equally cogent with respect to blank verse, and to prose; where an important word continues vibrating on the ear during the perusal of at least five or six lines,

Of MITIRA we have formerly spoken with partiality, in vol. xii. p. 251. of our New Seris. In this revival of the poem, there is a considerablc addition, between the IV th and Vrh Stanzas,

At p. 63. a small typographical error seems to have escaped the author's care and correction : Diapasan for Diapason and in another place, the word recanted, for rechanted, seems an unusual acceptation. Though to recant comes from recanto, and originally implied a palinody, no one now thinks of singing who recants an opinion.

Besides the uncommon beauty of the engravings, this publication does honour to the typography of our country, by the perfection of the letter-press and paper.

Art. XIV. The Pleasures of Hope; with other Poems. » By

Thomas Campbell. Small Svo. 65. Boards. Edinburgh, printed;

and sold by Longman, in London. 1799. IT:

would be unreasonable to expect, in a poem on this subject, the same exactness and method which occur in the Pleasures of Memory, or perhaps in the Pleasures of Imagination. All that can be done, in delineating the effects of the passion here described, is to form pleasing groupes, and to combine them by natural transitions. In one transition, we think, the present author has been too abrupt : pamely, in passing from the subject which introduces the Episode, to the Sorrows of Conrad and his daughter. The characteristic style of the poem is the pathetic, though in some passages it rises into a higher tone. It opens with a comparison between the beauty of remote objects in a landscape, and the anticipation of remote futurity:

• At summer eve, when Heav'n's aerial bow

Spans with bright arch the glittering hüls belov,
Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye,
Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky?
Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?
'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue. ::
Thus, with delight, we linger to survey
The promisd joys of life's unmeasur'd way;
Thus, from afar, each dim discover'd scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been ;
And every form, that Tarey can repair

From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.' Though there seems to be no settled mode of arrangement adopted in disposing of the successive pictures which constitute the poem, yet there is an evident climax followed out. The "march-worn soldier' entering the field of battle is the first description; to which succeeds an allusion to the situation of

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the celebrated Commodore Byron *; who, actuated by the influence of anticipation, encountered so many difficulties with exemplary fortitude. A domestic scene is their naturally introduced, in which the influence of Hope on parental affection is well pourtrayed. We give the following specimen' of this part

spoed to stay als

Courtybiega • Lo! as the couch where infant beauty sleeps,

Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her little son with pensive eyes,
And weaves a song of melancholy joy-
“ Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy;
No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine ;
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine
Bright as his manly sire, the son shall be

D.
In form and soul; but ah! more blest than he.
Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love at last,
Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past.

10 2,192 With many a smile my sorrows shall repay,

And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away. "1 190 1:)? " And say when summoned from the world and thee uit sriida I lay my head beneath the willow tree,

23 oferta
Wilt thou, sweet mourner! at my stone appeare: moi ym!
And soothe my parted spirit ling’ring near? odvor
Oh wilt thou come? at evening hour, to shed a
The tears of memory o'er my narrow bed ; * Didi &
With aching temples on thy' hand reclin'd,

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Muse on the last farewell I leave behind,
Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low,
And think on all my love and all my woe?”

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...
So speaks Affection, 'ere the infant eye
Can look regard, or brighten in reply ;
But when the cherub lip hath learnt io claim
A mother's ear by that endearing name;
Soon as the playful innocent can prove
A tear of pity, or a smile of love,
Or cons his murm’ring task beneath her carel: a
Or lisps with holy look his evening pray'r,

2:11
Or gazing, mutely pensive, sits to hear
The mournful ballad warbled in his ear ;
How fondly looks admiring Hope the while,
At every artless tear, and every smile;
How glows the joyous parent to descry

A guileless bosom, true to sympathy!' The pictures of the Maniac and the Wanderer are in the same style, but our limits do not permit us to transcribe them. * For his Narrative, see M. R. vol. xxxix. p. 319.

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From seenes of private life, the writer then passes to t nobier subject, viz. the prospect of the amelioration of the human race, and of their progress in science, liberty, and virtue. lic bas selected the partition of Poland, to illustrate a priat at which every well-wisher to mankind entertained sanguine hores of the emancipation of millions of the human species; and he concludes with a poetical prophecy that the day of Polish freedom may be yet expected. In all his allusions to politics, Mr. Campbell takes no notice of the French Revolution ; a circumstance which at least argues that he regards the revolution of Poland and that of France in a different light. In fact, we are by no means inclined to suppose, from the tenor of Mr. C.'s writings, that his admiration of Brutus arid Kosciusko have tinged his mind with improper principles; and from his silence on the subject of French Liberty, we argue his disapprobation of its horrors and excesses. In his allusion to the partition of Poland, he describes the last fatal contest of the oppressors and the oppressed, the capture of the city of Prague, and the massacre of the Pole's at the bridge which crosses the Visiula:

• Warsaw's last champion froin her hcight suney'd,

Wide o'er the ficlds, a waste of ruin laid,
“ Oh! Heav'n! (he cried,) my bleeding country sari!
Is there no hand on high to shild the brave?
Ici, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Riie', fellow mnen! Our country ski remains !
Dig thai diead name he wave the sword on high,

und swear for her to live! will her to dic !"
• He said, and, on ile rampart lieights, array'd

Fis trusty warriors, few, but undismay'd ;
Tirm paced, and slow, a horrid front they form,
Sill as the breeze, but dreadfal as the storm ;
how murm’ring sounds along their banner, fly,
Revenge, or death, the watch-worl and reply;
Then pcal'd the notes, omnipotent to clarni,.
And the loud tocsin toll'd thicir last alarm.
In vain, alas ! in vain, ye gailant few!
irom ruk to rank your volley'd thunder tew;
ON! bloodiest picture in the book of time,
Sarmati fill, uwept, without a crime ;
Found not a generous friend ; a piiying foe,
Strength in her arins, nor mercy in hier woe!
Dropi from her nei veless grup the shatter'd spear,
Closed ber brighi cri, audienbid le hind career ;
llope, for a season bade the world faria ull,
und Freddom sbricklas Kosciusko!
The sun tient desi, dar ceard the timage there,
Turiulidous orucur pivak the light air-

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