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writers of Latin poetry engaged cribe the lines which-exhibit these his attention ; he sometime since amazing citizens, commencing the revised the translation for his labours of the morning :amusement ; and he seems to have published it with no other

As when an army, at the dawn of day.

Marshal their bold brigades in dread array; view, than that of inscribing it, in The trumpet's clangour ev'ry breast alarms,

And the field glitters with their burnish'd arms. very handsome terms, to Miss So the bees, summon'd to their daily toil, .

Arise, and meditate their fragrant spoil ; Susanna Arabella Thrale.

And cre they start, in fancy wing their way, Nature has not, perhaps, pro

And in the absent field devour their prey."

No rest, no paure, no stay ; the eager band .duced a more astonishing pheno Rush through the gate, and issue on the land :

Fly wild of wing, a teeming meadow choose, menon than a kingdom of Bees.

Rife each tower, and sip nectareaus dews. It is not surprising, therefore, that

For de pradation while the rovers fly,

Should some sagacious bec a garden spy, the manners, the genius, and all the Or a rich bed of roses newly blown,

Scorning to taste the luxury alone, labours of these wonderful insects,

She summons all her friends ; her friends obey ; should have engaged the attention They throng, they press, they urge, they scizo

their prey; of philosophers and poets, from Rush to the socket of each blooming flow'r,

And from that reservoir the sweets devour; Pliny to Miraldi, who first invent Till, with the liquids from that source distillid, ed glass-hives ; and from Virgil to

Their eager thirst their honey-bags has fill'd.

Untir'd they work, insatiate still for more, Vaniere, whose Prædium Rusticum And viscous matter for their domes explore.

That treasure gain'd, in parcels small and neat might have been immortal had the They mould the spoil, and press it with their feet;

Then in the bags, which nature's hand has twin'd Georgica Rever been written..

Around their legs, a safe conveyance find. Mr. Murphy, in his Translation, Nor yet their labours cease ; their time they pass

In rolling on the leaves, until the mass . has done ample justice to the Poet, Clings to their bodies, then in wild career,

Loaded with booty, to their cells they steer. whom he has so ably vindicated.

Soon as the spring its genial warmth renews, From an abundance of excel

And from the rising flow rs calls forth the dews,
Th'industrious multitude on ev'ry plain
Begin the labours of the vast campaign,

Ere the parch'd meadows mourn their verdure fled, specimen, however, we shall trans

And the sick rose-bud hangs its drooping head.

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Bid the dark eye of beauty fade, And blast the buds of love and joy.



E'en now appear the fleeting hours
In which thine image met my sight,
As, round the couch, when fancy pour3
The sweet illusions of thie night.

Yet, if the poet's wish avails,
Those hours in memory's page shall last,
Long as his musing spirit hails
The Faded pleasures of the past.
And oft as genial June the rose,
The fragrant emblem of thy bloom,
In summer beauty shall disclose,
His heart shall mourn thine earls doom.
June, 1806.


..O! your parasite I a most precious thing, tropt from above, Not bred 'mongst tlods and clot-poult, here, or

I muse, the inystery was not made a science,
It is so liberally profest! almost
All the wise world is little else, in nature,
But parasites, or sub-parasites. And, yet,
I mean not those that have your bare towa-arts
To know, who's fit to feed 'em ; have no house,
No family, no care, and therefor trould
Tales for men's ears, to beat that sense; or get
Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts
To please the belly, and the groin ; nor those,
With their court-dog tricks, that can fawn and

Make their revenue out of legs and faces,
Eccho my lord, and lick away a moth :
But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise,
And stoop (almost together) like an arrow,
Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star;
Turn short, as doth a swallow ; and be here,
And there, and here, and yonder all at once ;
Present to any humour, all occasion :
And change a visor, swifter than a thought !
This is the creature had the art born with hin,
Toils not to learn it, but doth practise it
Out of most excellent nature : and such sparta
Are the true parasites, others but their Zani).


Pot the Anthology


« vel mare per medium Auctu suspensa tumenti Ferret iter, cetcres nec tingeret æquore plantas."


THOV little wand'rer, hitting round our stern,
So far from land, how can'st thoa c'er return,
Thou hast no means, or nont that I discern,

To travel here?
Few tempt the perils of the stormy deep,
Till fame, or fortune, all their senses steep,
But you, with thankless toil, stil idly sweep,

Where'er we steer.

How few dare change their home and happy hours,
Where Love and Friendship weave their rival

Abwers, .
Save the pale exile from Hygeia's bowers,

For this rude place.
Yet thou, nor fortune, fame, nor want constrain,
To quit the rural realm, and peaceful plain,
For ocean's barren, cold, and wild domain,

Without a base !.

Etudious to please, and ready to submit,
The supple Gaul was born a parasite;
Still to his int'rest true, where'er he goci,
Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestowsi
In ev'ry face a thousand grace shinc, 1
From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine,
These arts in vain our rugged natives try,
Strain out with fault'ring diffidence a lic,
And get a kick for awkward flattery.
Besides, with justice, this descending age
Admires their wondrous talents for the stage:
Well may they venture on the mimick's art,
Who play from morn to night a borrow'd part;
Practis'd their master's notions to embrace,
Repeat his maxims, and reflect his face ;
With ev'ry wild absurdity comply,
And view cach object with another's eye ;
To shake with laughter ere the jest they hear,
To pour at will the counterfeited tear;

Say, can'st thou slumber mid these bilowy vales, Torn up to monntain summits by the gales, When we are driv'n with close contracted sails,

In tempests tost ! Then farewel, happiest wand'rer of the wave. Thy lesser wings the whelm’ning storm shall

brave, When our proud bark no human skill can save,

And all is lost !

* The Procellarius Pelagicus, or Stormy Petrel, better known to the mariner as one of " Mother Carey's chickens," is a small bird about six inches in length, and in the extent of its wings, thirteen. It is wholly biack, Excpt the covert of the tail, and vent-fcathors, wliich are white; thie bill is looked at the end ; the nostrils tuhular : its legs slender and long. In the Ferrol

Isles this bird sometimes serves the purpose of a candle, by drawing a wick thro'irs nostrils, from which it possesses the quality of spouting oil. li is seen all over the Atlantick ocean at the greatest distance from land. In tempests, of which it is said to warn the scaman by collecting under the stern of his vessel. it skims over the tops of the hillows with incredible velocity. These birds are the “ Cypselli" of Pliny, which he places & mong the apodes of Aristotle; not because they wanted feet, but were Kaxsuoda.

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Came, pensive fun, devout and pure,
Sober, Iteadfaft, and demure,
All in a robe of darkeft grain,
Flowing with majettick train,
And fable itole of cypreis lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted itatc,
With cy'n ftcp and mufing gait,
And looks commercing with tha ikies,
Thy rapt foul fitting in thine eyes ;
There held in holy pallion ftill,
Forget thyfelf to marple, till
With a fad, leaden, dann ward cait,
You fix them in the earth as fait.


Fame, the great in, from fmall beginnings grows. Swift from the firtt; and every moment brings New vigour to her flights, new pinions to het

winge. Soon grows the pigmy to gigantick fize; Her feet on earth, her foreliead in the fries : Eurag'd againt the gods, revengeful earth Produc'd her last of the 'Tiranian birth. Swift in her walk, more swift her win2cd hatte : A monttrous phantom, horrible and vaft ; As many plumes as raise her lofty flight, So many piercing eyes enlarge her fight :

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There is an old tale goes, that Herae the hosta,
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor foreft,
Doth all the winter time, at ftill midnight,
Walk round about an oak, with great raggies

horns ; And makes milch-kine yield blood, and thakes

chain In a moft hideous and dreadful manner:", You have heard of such a {pirit: and well you

The superftitious idle-headed eld
Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age
This tale of Hernc the bunter for a truth,

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There is a tall long-Gued dame,
(But wond'rous light) yclepcá Fame,
That, like a thin camelion, boards
Herself on air, and eats her words :
Upon her moulders wings the wears
Like hanging Reeves, lin'd through with ears,
And eyes, and tongues, as poets lift,
Made good by deep mythologift.
With these the through the welkin flics,
And sometimes carries truth, oft lies ;
With letters hung like eattern pigeons,
And Mercuries of furtheft regions,
Diurnals writ for regulation
or lying, to inform the nation ;
And by their publick use to bring down
The rate of whetitones in the kingdom.
About her neck a pacquet-male,
Fraught with advice, foinc freth, fome ftale,
of men that walk'd when they were dead,
And cows of monsters brought to bed;
of hail-ttones big as pullets eggs,
- And puppies wheip'd with twice two legs;

A blazing-ttar feen in the weft,
By fix or seven men at lealt.
Two trumpets the does found at once,
But both of clean contrary tones
But whether both with the same wind,
O one before and one behind,
We know not; only this can tell,

The one founds vilcly, the other well;
And therefore vulgar authors name
Th' one Good, the other Evil, Fame.


Sweet scented flower! who'rt wont to

bloom On January's front severe, And oʻer the wint'ry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume ! Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now, And I will bind thee round my brow, And as I twine the mournful wreath, I'll weave a melancholy song, And sweet the strain shall be, and long The melody of death.'' Come fun'ral flost's! who lor'st to dwell With the pale corse in lonely tomb, And throw across the desert gloom A sweet decaying smell. Come press my lips, and lie with me Beneath the lowly alder tree, And we will sleep a pleasant sleep, And not a care shall dare intrude To break the marble solitude, So peaceful, and so deep. And hark! the wind-god as he Aies Moans hollow in the forest trees, And sailing on the gusty breeze

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Sweet fiow'r, that requiem wild is mine,
It warns me to the lonely shrine,
The cold turf altar of the dead ;
My grave shall be in yon lone spot,
Where as I lie by all forgot,
A dying fragrance thou wilt o'er my

ashes shed

AUGUST, 1806.

Librum tuum legi & quam diligentissime potui annotavi, quæ commutanda, que eximenda, ar.

bitrarer. Nam ego dicere verum assuevi. Neque ulli paticntius reprehenduntur, quam qui maxime laudari merentur. Pliny.

ARTICLE 38. Yolume 1. Part I. of The New Cyclopedia, or Universal Dictionary of

Arts and Sciences, formed upon a more enlarged plan of arrangement than the Dictionary of Mr. Chambers ; comprchending the various articles of that work, with additions and improveinents ; together with new subjects of biography, geography, and history ; and adapted to the present state of literature and science. By Abraham Rees, D. D., F. R. S., editor of the last edition of Mr. Chambers's Dictionary, with the assistance of eminent professional gentlemen. Illustrated with new plates, including maps, engraved for the work by some of the most distinguished artists. First American edition, revised, corrected, ene larged, and adapted to this country, by several literary and scientifick

characters. 4to. Price of the half volume to subscribers 83. Phila• delphia, printed by R. Carr for Samuel F. Bradford.

The character of Dr. Rees' Cyclopedia, as far as the volumes have been published, is so well known from the various English Reviews, which are regularly received in this country, that it would seem in a degree impertinent for us to enter into a formal examination of its merits. It will be more decorous in the young criticks of the New World, though to some members of the republick of letters (which * like other republicks has its jacobins) it may appear slavish, to bow with deference to the judgment of the literary veterans of the Old Continent, who have, with few exceptions, expressed their warm approbation of the general execution of this work ; and to this opinion we do, after an attentive perusal of the most important articles, very cheerfully subscribe.

We shall therefore confine our remarks chiefly to a comparison of the American with the English edition, and to the correction of such typographical and other errors, as we have been able to detect in ei. ther. And here we take pleasure in imparting to our readers, how much satisfaction we felt on the first view of the American edition, at the decisive and honourable testimony which it bore to the flourishing state of the arts of printing and engraving in our country. It is one of the few American editions, which, we can with truth say, is not surpassed by the English. 7 Nor will we restrict our commendation' to the mechanical execution of the volume before us; we have found useful additions made to some of the articles, which we shall take notice of in another part of our Review. But here commendation must stop ; for, to adopt an old sentiment, though we love our countrymen much,

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