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Or where Pacific vast, capacious laves
la the populous city, the minute-bells tolling, New worlds, new empires, with its southern Broke the silence of night, and no reveller sate waves ;
In gladness; but tears of affection were rolling There Britain's daring canvass streams unfurld, From the idler and sage, from the bumble and And wafts her traffic round the social world
great. Hail, brightning era, hail! beneath whose ray
The solemn accordance of temples resouoded, Peace, plenty, freedom, all their charms display.
Deep, dull, and sonorons it rose and declined;
And solitude all the wide city surrounded,
In sorrow dissolved, but to Heaven resigned, The following stanzas are said to have been ad Thou art gone, thou soft vision of glory and dressed by Lord Byron to his Lady before their
Like the dream of young slumbers bast va. There is a mystic thread of life,
Yet Piety feels, as it dwells on thy brightness,
Mortality's beauties were born to decay.
Not alone the high nobles attending thy station,
AMicted and lorn, o'er thy sepulchre bend; There is a form, on which these eyes
The Prince and the peasant bewail their priHave often gazed with fond delight:
vation, By day—that form their joy supplies,
A kingdom its Queen, and the bamlet its friend. And dreams restore it through the night.
In the palace of pomp, in humility's dwelling, There is a voice, whose tones inspire
Affliction submissively silent deplores; Such thrills of rapture in my breast;
Yea! the spirit of grief through thy conntry is I would not hear a seraph choir,
swelling, Unless that voice could join the rest!
And Hope droops awbile o'er its desolate There is a face, whose blnshes tell
shores. Affection's tale upon the cheek
From pageantry free, in thy calm habitation,
Thy quietnde, piety, happiness, love,
To indigent life and to grandeur above.
And thine influence came on the poor as a It yow'd to make me sweetly blest,
blessing And nine-mine only, press it more!
That heaven dispenses unheard and untold; There is a bosoni-all my own
And the full heart of gratitude oft was expressHath pillow'd oft this aching head;
ing A mouth-which smiles on vie alone;
Its thanks to the band it might never behold. An eye-whose tears with mine are shed. Ob! more shall the virtues composing thy story There are two bearts, wbose movements thrill
Hereafter impart the deep woe of thy land, lo unison so closely sweet;
Than all the proud monuments raised to thy That pulse to pulse, responsive still,
glory, They both must beave-or cease to beat.
By elegy's grief or the sculptor's vain hand. There are two souls, whose equal flow
Yes! the streams of remembrance, divine and
unfailing, In gentle streams so calmly run
Will flow thro' thine island when those are no
While the blue waves of ocean encircle its
shore. THE EVENING.
Ah! blind are our wishes, yet still we deplore I viewed thee at sun-set, thy beauties were thee, shrouded,
(veiled, And breathe our deep sighs o'er thy sanctified In the soft gloom of evening thy turrets were arn, And the spirit of sorrow thy silent lakes clouded, But shall anguish and agony bope to restore thee, While the murmuring breeze thy lost Lady Or the pray’rs of mortality bid thee return ? bewailed.
When the moon, in its glory, thro' heaven's fault Yes, the day-light of heaven reluctantly left thee, sailing,
Yet its showers wept softly, and silently fell ; And the stars on the world let their living
A fugitive mist o'er their splendor prevailing,
And shall the low creature, with ignorance LINES WRITTEN BY KING JAMES I. clouded,
CROWNEs have their compasse, length of daics Impeach the great purpose of wisdom on high, their date, That God, for his bliss, hath benignantly shroud- || Triumphs their tombes, felicitie her fate ; ed?
Of more than earth, can earth make none parBow down thou vain thing and on Heaven rely. taker; Be thou still as the deep, when the darkness was || Bat knowledge makes the King most like his spreading
maker. The motionless waters of Chaos in night, And the spirit of God o'er the silence was shed
HUNT'S PANACEA. ding The seeds of the world and futurity's light.
COLLECT a mob to make a show-
The bellows of sedition blow-
Sound from a coach-roof an alarm!
The praise of order then rehearse, To the orient beams that irradiate the flower,
And bid them quietly disperse. And round thee will the chrystallized tears of our Now change the note-and raise the storm sorrow
Tell them that nothing but Reform
Compared to this effective word-
For it alone can save the land-
Make drooping manufactures thrive,
And keep the nerves of trade aliveRewards the labours of the rural swain;
Make butchers, farmers, cease to cheut, Our cheerful yonth the sylvan sports pursue,
And at fair prices sell their meatReturning pleasures op'ning to their view. Make bakers pangs of conscience feel Led by the morning breeze, and cooling air,
Enlarge the loaf-reduce the mealWith dogs and guns they to the fields repair;
Force e'en hard landlords to relent, Bnt chief the sportsman sure perdition brings,
And live without receiving rent. Where the sly partridge sits with folding wings; || Abolish (as the work warm waxes) Close in the grass the basking covey lies,
Pensioners, parsons, tithes, and taxes; But unconceal'd from the sharp pointer's eyes
And bring, once more, the bappy reign, Whose leg nplifted, and sagacious nose,
Of Revolution back again! With instinct strange their private haunts dis
close; Led by the breeze, and on his game intent,
THE SAILOR AND MONKEY. With caution first he draws the rising scent;
On reading an account of the decision at the ManThen after many a pause in mute suspense,
sion-House, between a Sailor and Showman, Stands, like a marble statue, void of sense.
concerning a Monkey. Long time the birds that skulk among the weeds, || Thy judgment, Smith, hath men surprised, Perceive his figure thro' the yellow reeds,
And wicked wags declare, Then quick as thought, from the thick stubble | Whilst thou wast aping Solomon spring,
The Monkey ap?d the Mayor.
Ah! what is this that on my brow
Presses with such o'erwhelming power ? Others the meadows range with anxious care,
My love to heaven is gone I know;And scatter'd coveys all at once euspare.
But 'ris to fix our bridal hour :The spreading net from foldings onconfind,
Then on his tounb why should I sorrow ?
He's gone bat be'll return to-morrow,
Ah! then yon lofty bill I'll mount,
On that I'll waiting love, and count Enwraps the filmy texture round their wings. The moments till he leaves his shroud : Thus oft the gun, or else the marshy toil, And be the rainbow's vest shall borrow, Rewards the fowler with the feather'd spoil. To grace our bridal-day to-morrow.
But all's not right in this poor heart
There blue-eyed amethyst is seen, Yet why should I his loss deplore?
And emerald of lively green; It was indeed a pang to part,
Pity and youth in fond embrace, But when he comes he'll rove no more: Soft image of the ductile race! And all to-day can laugh at sorrow,
The topaz, rich in golden ray, When sure of being blest to-morrow.
Joy-like is ever bright and gay; Then why am I in black array'd ?
The ruby-bat he glares too strong, And why is Henry's father pale?
Remove the dazzler from the throng; And why do I, poor frantic maid,
Semblance of glory, bane of rest, Tell to the winds a mournful tale?
He must not rear his vengeful crest: Alas! the weight I feel is sorrow
His place let adamant supply, No! no-be cannot come to-morrow!
Whose lustre may with honor vie !
And here the snowy pearl allot
Her modest merit we forgot;
Ab! is there yet a vacant place,
That precious stone myself supply,
From the rare mine-humanity!
Behold the jewel's mild display!
No dross adheres to cloud her ray; We musi ng mark the doom of all;
But beautiful, angelic, bright, When yellow autumn, drooping, sear,
She cheers and gladdens mortal sight! Is gemm’d by winter's frozen tear;
| 'Tis mercy! loveliest, rarest gem! When groas their tuneful choirs dismiss,
Despots at will my choice condemo! Nor echo hears an hymn of bliss
Mercy! more precious than renown,
The noblest jewel in a monarch's crown!
WHAT IS IN A NAME?
FORTUNE imparts to every plan
Which rises from the mind of man, Change damask tints to lifeless pale;
A name and pature double : Then 'stead of spring's inspiring glow,
Whether 'tis sense or folly's dream,
Supported, 'tis a noble scheme,
Without support-a bubble!
GP.B. Whilst weeping Pity marks the tomb, Inhales the essence ere it die, And wafts it to a kindred sky.
Why dost thou sigh, my love, and hang thy head? THE SONG OF THE REGENT. Is it because our fortune looks upkind? INSCRIBED TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE
These sad reverses do attune the mind
To meet, with finer sense, the wayward maid The gorgeous monarch of the East
In all the witchery of smiles arrayed.
Mark yonder crow-how she doth stoop and Finds not his store of bliss increas'dAlas! it but augments his care,
Her head to earth, ere she forsake the field The proud regalia's costly glare!
To wing her flight up to her airy bed,
Built in a nook of some high pinnacle That loftiness of soul within,
So you and 1, with woes acquainted well,
Bending our pride to fortune's lowliness, Which yet cau bend to please and win!
Will soar, majestic in our griefs subdued, My diadem, though sparkling bright,
Above the curious gaze and whispers rude Not dazzles but allures the sight;
Of those dull fools who smile in scorn of our The jewel's mildest radiance shed,
distress. Inspiring love-dispelling dread!