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to which we now allude, is nothing like an imitation of the obsolete and quaint style of a pedantic age, yet it is a great deal better. The orthography may be affectedly ancient, but the sense and spirit of the poetry are fresh and new and sharp, as the most recent gold coinage from the mint of Great-Britain. The compliment in the closing stanza, addressed to a favourite fair one, is a brilliant proof of a lover's genius and affection. It is equally poetical, gallant and sincere.
The next poem, which purports to be an invocation from Oberon to the Queen of the Fairies, would not, in its musical and poetical character, disgrace an Opera, modelled after the Masque of Milton, or the scenes of Armida.
Our author's intimacy with the middle Latiņity of the continental scholars has led him in the next place, to a translation from Stephanus Forcatulus, and we discern in this poetical adventure much of the purer manner of Mr. Moore.
Now follows a quizzical string of fourteen lines, in which the drawling and monotonous tone of the modern sonnet is very successfully ridiculed. The author alludes to the literature of Spain and of France, as furnishing a hint for this ingenious sarcasm; but in one of the British miscellanies of classical poetry, we remember to have read what possibly may have produced the seminal idea in the poet's mind. Yet he is nothing like a plagiarist, but a very lucky imitator.
Page 18 introduces us to three sprightly stanzas, precisely of that character, which the French denominate Vers de Societè, a sort of brilliant trifle, such as the Marquis de la Fare might indite, and resembling a lady's watch, at once light and glittering The next article is another joke at the expense of modern
The author treats all coxcombical lovers without the least mercy; and the severity and sharpness of his sarcasms are sufficiently provoked by the excessive silliness of the stupid stanzas which are the butt of his satire. The whining, drawling, and infantine style of many of the moderns appears to our author an object of the most implacable disgust. At the least glimpse of affectation in literature he seems to shrink with a sort of instinctive abhorrence; and while he thus triumphantly derides the bad taste of pretenders, he asserts, in our opinion, most nobly. and successfully the classical purity of his own.
(To be continued.)
Dedicated to DUNCAN M'INTOSH, deliverer of more than two thousand
French people during the massacre of St. Domingo. Translated from the
Preceptress of celestial birth !
And my distrustful pencil guide.
And dissipates the glooms;
HUMANITY my way illumes.
With many a warrior's name,
Mistakes the proper path to Fame.
* See Port Folio, vol. I. p. 293.
Charm’d with a different glory quite,
Heroic worth complete;
Of colours bright and fragrance sweet,
Murmur'd for ages past,
Loud sounding in the hurrying blast?
Among the heaps of dead ?
The wretches who have thither fled
'Gainst every sex and
Stop the mad Ethiop's savage rage ?
In those tempestuous days.
To consecrate thy Hero's praise ?
Acted through many a scene.
A single mortal stepp'd between.
Displays its gleaming edge;
No threats impede; no fears appal;
And stands for each a ready pledge.
Which yawn'd their prey to catch,
To save the hope-deserted wretch.
Safe ransom'd from the block !
Rescued from many a ruffian shock.
With spirit so benign,
By Providence's care divine.
Copy what they behold,
Hearts now indeed no longer cold.
Thine altar long shall smoke;
Of laurel mix'd with civic oak.
Pursue Atrides' path!
In sight of all their woiks of death.
Yes! it is transient as the spark
Is made to disappear;
The unresisting atmosphere.
Has, since thy life began,
Befriend the family of man.
For children, ages hence,
THE RECLUSE. Seminary Range, (Ohio.)