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VOL. 4.]

Varieties.

203

Smiled at the hovering dart of death,

She heard the tidings of the fatal blow,
While Hope displayed the joys of Heaven!

And sunk abandoned to the wildest woe. See Roberts's Poems and Letters, p. 9, a pleasing Wrongs, injuries, from many a darksome den, companion to the Remains of Kirke White. The Now gay in hope explore the path of men. author died at the early age of twenty !

See, from his cavern, grim Oppression rise,

And throw on Poverty his cruel eyes ;
INNOCENTS, DECEMBER 28.

Keen on the helpless victim see him fly,
The slaughter of the Jewish chil- And stifle, dark, the feebly-bursting cry :
dren, by Herod, is commemorated this Mark ruffian Violence, distained with crimes,
day. The festival is very antient, for Rousing elate in these degenerate times :

View unsuspecting Innocence a prey: Tertullian and Saint Cyprian call these

As guileful Fraud points out the erring way ; Innocents martyrs, and Prudentius has While subtle Litigation's pliant tongue written a hymn upon the subject. The life-blood equal sucks of Right and Wrong : Childcrmas day is another name for this Hark, injured Want recounts the unlisten’d tale,

And much-wronged Misery pours the unpitied wail ! feast. This day is observed by the Ye dark waste hills, and brown unsightly plains, Jews on account of Jehojakim's burn- Inspire and soothe my melancholy strains ! ing the scroll that the Prophet - Baruch Ye tempests rage! ye turbid torrents roll !

Ye suit the joyless tenor of my soul : wrote from the mouth of Jeremiah.

Life's social haunts and pleasures I resign ;

Be nameless wilds and lonely wanderings mine. From the New Monthly Magazine, Scpt. 1818.

To mourn the woes my Country must endure,

That wound degenerate ages cannot cure.
ORIGINAL LETTER AND POEM, BY ROB-
ERT BURNS.

ANECDOTE OF BONAPARTE,
(No date, but supposed Nov. or Dec. 1787.)
Sir,--The enclosed
poem was writ-

Napoleon, when at Dresden, comten in consequence of your suggestion, plained to Maria-Louisa of the conduct last time I had the pleasure of seeing of her mother-in-law and the Archdukes, you. It cost me an hour or two of next and having manifested considerable dismorning's sleep, but did not please me ;

satisfaction, be added : “ As to the Emso it lay by, an ill-digested effort, till the peror, I say nothing of him, he is a gan.

I other day that I gave it a critic brush. ache' (a stupid fellow). Maria-Louisa These kind of subjects are much hack- did not understand this expression, and neyed; and besides, the wailings of the as soon as Napoleon withdrew, she askrhyming tribe over the ashes of the great ed her attendants what it meant. As are cursedly suspicious, and out of all none of the ladies could venture to excharacter for sincerity. These ideas plain its real signification, they told her damped my muse's fire; however I that the word was used to designate a have done the best I could, and, at all serious reflecting man. The Einpress events, it gives me an opportunity of forgot neither the term nor the definideclaring that I have the honour to be, tion, and she some time afterwards apSir, Your obliged humble servant,

plied it in a very amusing way. Dur

Robert Burns, ing the time she was intrusted with the Monday Morning.

regency of the French empire, an ima To Charles Hay, Esq. Advocate.

portant question one day came under On the Death of the late Lord President.

discussion at the council of state. Hav. Lone on the bleaky hills the straying flocks

ing remarked that Cambaceres did not Shun the fierce storms among the sheltering rocks ; utter a word, she turned towards him Down foam the rivulets, red with dashing rains ; and said, • I should like to have your The gathering floods burst o'er the distant plains ;

opinion on this business, sir, for I know Beneath the blasts the leafless forests groan ; The hollow caves return a sullen moan.

you are a ganache. At this compliment, Ye hills, ye plains, ye forests, and ye caves,

Cambaceres stared with astonishment Ye howling winds and wintry-swelling waves ; and consternation, while he repeated in Unheard, unseen, by human ear or eye,

a low tone of voice the word ganache. Sad to your sympathetic glooms I fly. Where to the whistling blast, and waters' roar,

“ "Yes,' replied the empress, ' a ganache, Pale Scotia's recent wound may I deplore.

a

a serious thinking sort of a man; is not O heavy loss my country ill could bear!

that the meaning of it?'—No one made A loss these evil days can ne'er repair !

any reply, and the discussion proceedJustice, the high vicegerent of her God, Her doubtful balance ey'd, and sway'd her rod;

ed.

204

Varieties-Original Anecdotes.

{vol. 4

a

:

Great events spring from little causes, tor. The Count consented; the Serand of this the following is an instance: vant mounted behind the carriage, and

We are told that before the battle let his horse go, which was soon seized of Leipsic, negociations for peace were by the wolves, and torn into a thousand carried on at Dresden, the preliminaries pieces. Meantime the travellers proceedwere even agreed upon, and this extra. ed with all the speed they could, in ordinary man had actually the pen in hopes to reach the town, from which bis hand to sign them when a few im- they were not very distant. But the prudent words from the Duke de Bassa- horses were tired, and the wolves, beno suddenly changed his determination. come more savage now they had tasted

Sire,' said the duke, as he presented blood, had almost overtaken the carriage. to the Emperor the pen which was to In this extreme necessity, the Servant ensure the tranquillity of Europe, ' for cried out, “ 'There is only one means once it may be said that you do not of deliverance : I will go to meet the give peace, but that you receive it.' wolves, if you will swear to me to proWhether the duke had any secret mo- vide as a father for my wife and chiltives for wishing for the continuance of dren. I must perish ; but while they the war, or whether he suffered these fall upon me, you will escape." Podoiwords to escape him without reflecting sky hesitated to comply; but as there on their fatal consequences, it is impos- was no prospect ofescape, he consented, sible to decide ; be this as it may, the and solemnly vowed, that if he would Emperor at that moment fancied he sacrifice himself for their safety, he saw all the glory of his life eclipsed, and would constantly provide for his family. he threw down the pen in a fit of anger, The Servant immediately got down, declaring that he would sign nothing. went to meet the wolves, and was deThe battle of Leipzic took place a few roured ! The Count reached the gates days after, and it was followed by the of Zator, and was saved.— The Serdefection of bis allies. Napoleon was vant was a Protestant; his Master a obliged to quit Germany with the same Catholic, and conscientiously kept his precipitation as he bad fed from Rus- word. sia ; and he was ooly enabled to reach Clerical Wit. - Sir William Dawes, Mentz, through the devotion of his Archbishop of York, was very fond of a guards, who suffered themselves to be pun. His clergy dining with him, for cut to pieces for the sake of covering his the first time after he had lost his lady, retreat.

he told them, he feared they did not

find things in so good order as they Remarkable instance of fidelity in a used to be in the time of poor Mary, Servant. In the winter of the year and, looking extremely sorrowful, ad1776, the Count and Countess Podot- ded, with a deep sigh,“ She was, insky being on their way from Vienna to deed, Mare pacificum !” A Curate, Cracow, the wolves, which are very nu- who pretty well knew what she had merous in the Carpathian mountains, been, called out, “ Ay, my Lord, but and when the cold is very severe are she was Mare mortuum first.” The more bold and savage than usual, came Archbishop gave him a living of 2001. down in hordes, and pursued the car- per annum within two months. riage between the towns of Oswiesk and A modern wit passing with a friend Zator, the latter of which is only a few through one of the principal streets of leagues from Cracow. Of two servants, the metropolis, and observing the name one was sent before, to bespeak post- of Furthing over a shop door, said to horses, the other, whom the Count par

his companion,

" That man and his ticularly esteemed for his fidelity, see- wife ought to be hanged for coining.” ing the wolves come nearer and nearer, “Why so ?' “ Because a farthing and begged his master to permit him to a farthing make a halfpenny !” leave them his borse, by which their your mind at ease,' replied bis friend, rage would in some measure be satisfied, the crime carries its own punishment and they should gain time to reach Za- they are liable to be transported !!

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VOL. 4]

Original Poetry.

205

POETRY.

From the London Monthly Magazines.

From the same.

,

STANZAS ON LOVE.

There is one whose face my being

Finds redoubled life in seeing ;
Ini
is not Love, when burning sighs

Who, with seraph smile, inspires
Heave forth the heart's impassion'd Gentle love and genial fires.

anguish;
When the cheeks kindle, and the eyes

Fairy is her form of lightness, On their bright idol, fix and languish.

Azure is her eye of brightness,

Snowy is her brow ;---above it It is not Love, when heart and mind

Wreathe the auburn curls that love it, Are troubled like the stormy ocean;

Sweetly twining and invading When the press'd hands, convulsive join'd Rosy cheeks that need not shading :

Thrill ev'ry pulse with wild emotion. Blush not at my telling tbee, It is not Love, when madd’ning bliss

Oh my love! that thou art she ! M; Suspends the faculties of reason ; 'Tis baleful passion urges this, And acts tow'rds Love the foulest treason.

MELANCHOLY. Love breathes in peace, and hope and joy;

Love only sighs when absence parteth : Its trust, no fancied ills destroy ;

THE sun of the morning, No jealous fear its bosom smarteth.

The landscape adorning From the stol'n glance, half-veil'd and meek, With lustre and light,

Love's fondest, truest feeling breaketb ; To glory and gladness It speaks in blushes on the cheek,

New bliss may impart: Soft as when summer morning waketh.

But, oh! give to sadness

And softness of heart To heart'tis as the Christian's faith, Changeless and sacred---chaste...desiring ; The light of the moon, or the shadows of eve?

A moment to ponder, a season to grieve, Decay it knows not ;---and in death, Dies, but as life's last sighs expiring.

Then soothing reflections 3, Durham-Place, Chelsea.

W. P.

Arise on the mind ;
New Mon. Mag. Sept. 1818. And sweet recollections

Of friends who were kind;
Of love that was tender,

And yet could decay;
THE CONFESSION.

Of visions whose splendour

Time withered away ;

In all that for brightnessand beauty may seem ID the cold and callous-hearted The painting of fancy--the work of a dream!

The soft cloud of whiteness, Letnim linger, let him languish lo his sordid, selfish anguish :

The stars beaming through, Not a son his soul shall borrow,

The pure moon of brightuese,

The deep sky of blue,
To dispel his vight of sorrow ;

The rush of the river
And a something shall annoy,
With a dread, his dreams of joy.

Through vales that are still,

The breezes that ever He knows not the blissful union

Sigh lone o'er the hill, Souls partake by soft communion ; Are sounds that can soften, and sights that He knows not the pleasing sadness

impart Less allied to grief than gladness

A bliss to the eye, and a balm to the heart. Which the pensive heart is proving, When its life consists in loving ; As congenial pulses beat With a mild and mutual heat.

TRIFLES---LIGHT AS AIR."---Shakspeare. He who can despise thee, woman !

Behold--of woman the true character,
Must be more or less than human :
On his heart a frost is seizing,

You like a thing-it is enough for her
In his veins the blood is freezing :---

To like it not. In time, should you detest
If thou canst not, what can move it ? That very thing-is't not what she likes best?
But his coldness none will covet;

Terence.
Not a bosom shall condole
With his poor and paltry soul.
Some may say thine eyes are cheating, Go fasten the rainbow's fading dyes ;
Some may say thy love is fleeting, Go whistle the bird from yonder tree,
Some may say---but I believe not ;

From the same.

B ;

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Go follsex, the breeze that lies over the

Go catch on the waves the sparkles that Well I know thy smiles deceive not.

rise ;

206

Original Poetry.

(VOL. 4

I

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This to do thou shalt easier find,

From the Literary Gazette, Sept. 1818. Than to know the thoughts of a woman's mind.

LINES They are swift as the breeze---as wavering too--

ON THE FUNERAL OF AN ENGLISH OFFICER More transient (sometimes) than the rainbow's

IN SPAIN,

1813. hue. Uomov’d, as the bird, by tbe charmer's call; heard the muffled drum beat slow, As bright as the sparkles, as solid withal:

I And to think that the smiles of such Beings as I saw the cottio in the ground, these

And tie loud volley fired around--Make of.--even philosophers--- just what they And many a manly veteran there, please.

H. E. With faltering step and brow of care.

Dashed from his eye the tear that fell

la token of a last farewell. SKETCH.---THE PICTURE.

A rustic stone upon the grave H what a sweet and animated

Its feeble gave : those blue eyes

Of him who there lay silent---coldWith the embodied thought that from the lip How he had died the hero's death, Seems hovering; on the forehead's snowy "Tis

o'er---and now unheard by thee

In Victory's arms resigo'd life's breath.
white
The fair and clustering ringlets richly wave The warring of a world shall be !
In careless elegance. Just such a vision,

Yes---in the stranger's land he sleeps,
Sketched in the day-dream of the enthusiast's No mother o'er the green turf weeps ;

Nor must she ever---ever know eye Might sport upon the sun-beam---wing its The spot where be she loved lies low. flight

Yet be this grave to memory dear, From flower to flower, and breathe their soft Au English Soldier slumbers here! perfume,

The Spaniard---as he wanders by,
And live upon their sweets. Where is it now? Shall view the mound with pensive eye,
This form of love this being of earth's With grateful throb his bosom swell,
mold--

For those who nobly fought and fell.
Gone--faded from the world---for ever gone! Youth ! from thy blessed and they came,
Is it not sad to think, that ere that hour

With warrior might and patriot flame, Sorrow, perchance, had chased away those And buried in the earth of Spain smiles,

The Bravest of the brave' reinain.

ISABEL Dulled the blue eye with tears---and from the

cheek Washed the young rose, and made the beavy

heart Turn from this scene with agony---and pray, If peace dwelt in the grave, to slumber there. THE TYROLESE GIRL.

CAROLINE

Written after the French Invasion of the Tyrol.

Felicite passee
THE GROUND SWELL. †

Qui ne peux revenir,
Written on the Breakwater, Plymouth Sound.

Tourment de ma pensee
THE Sun is high, the Atlantic is unfano'd

Que n'ai je en te perdant, perdu le souvenir
E'en by the breathings ofthe gentle West, OU would
And yet the broad blue Zood is not at rest.
Amid the holy calm on sea and land

Our mountains, skies, and lucid streams,
There is a murmuring on the distant strand, Like colourings of the poets' dream ---)
And silently though Ocean heaves its breast, You would not wonder I should grieve
The shoreward swellings wear a feathery Those scenes of loveliness to leave.

crest, And meet the opposing rocks in conflict Oh, never shall I see on earth grand.

A land like this that gave me birth,

Ör hearts so kind, so brave, so true, These ships that dare the eternal winds and As those my blissful youth once knew : seas,

Yet virtue, valour, could not save---
In the commotion roll without a breeze,

And those hearts slumber in the grave.
And as their sides the huge upswellings lave,
His flagging sails the listless seaman sees, With tempest-roar, with lightning-flame,
Aod wishes rather for the winds to save, The Tyrant and his myriads came---
And, like an arrow, dart him o'er the wave. They laid our peaceful valleys waste,
Plymouth Dock

N. T. C. Her Sons with chains would have disgraced. 7 The Ground Swell is principally occa

How fought the Tyrolese---how fell.-sioned by storms in the Atlantic, which agi- Stranger ! the tale is known too well. tated the sea many days after the tempests But never, never can you know bave ceased. The ocean heaves, as it were, The deep, the agonizing woe in masses, but its surface is quite smooth, i.e. We felt, when man could do no more.unbroken into waves, and without foam, ex- When freedom died, and all was o'er ! cept where it comes in contact with the God of our fathers ! in that hour coast.

Warred not with us thy mighty power.

From the same.

T

Yin happier

days our fields of green,

VOL. 4.]

Intelligence ; Literary, &c.

207

A

No !---you could ne'er retrace this scene The pleasures of Love in a moment fly;
For what it had so lately been---

The torments of Love endure till we die.
The ruined cot, the untilled ground,

ISABEL All---all---so desolate around ! No minstrel wanders through the vale, No voice floats on the evening gale.

From the European Magazine.

THE INNKEEPER AND THE BEAR
It was so different !---at this bour,
Resting within some shadowy bower,
We listened---with what anxious ear!

Once undertook to paint a sign,
The homeward mountain-horn to hear, To please the landlord of an inn,
And watched the crimson setting sun. Who cared for merit not a pin!
For then our evening dance begun.

A bear was fix'd on,---not indeed
The spot our feet once careless prest,

A very flattering quadruped,

For that was thought of no concert, Oh slumber there in endless rest

Because the landlord's saving turn
The maidens' hope, the matrons' pride---

Was found to mix with all his views,
The Youth who for bis Country died !
Since then is all a desert grown,

From sheer sign-painting to the muse.

The fact was this---bis highest aim And I remain alone, alone.

Was for the shortest cut to fame. Companions, friends, for ever dear !

“ Paint it without a chain,” said he, No longer ye inhabit here--

66 'Twill do as well as with ; for me, Yet wonder not that I should grieve

All I regard about the sign, Those scenes of loveliness to leave,

Is, that you'll paint it cheap, and fine !: For never shall I see on earth

To work the painter went with care,
A land like this that gave me birth.

And sketch'd almost a living bear,
ISABEL. In colour, shape, and look complete,

In all its parts, from head to feet.
But mark the issue ---Soon next day
It rain'd---the bear was wash'd away!

“ Zounds !” cried the landlord, in a rage, SONG

“ Did not Sir Brush with me engage

To grace my sign-post with a bear,
FROM THE PRENCE OF FLORIAN. Which now is gone, the Lord knows where!"
This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

A wag, who heard this pithy strain,

Replied, " It should have had a chain, Midsummer Night's Dream. And then I'll warrant you, mine host, THE pleasures of Love in a moment fly, The bear would still have kept his post,

The torments of Love endure till we die; And not, as now, have slipt his tether,
For Sylvia with all once so dear did I part--- « Fellow !" cries Spiggot, aliger'il still,

Because 'twas merely rainy weather !".
She left me, and gave to another her heart.
The pleasures of Love but a moment endure; What is it that your chain implies,

“Since you pretend to so much skill, The torments of Love admit of no cure.

Which should secore the painted prize ?"So sure as this stream shall softly flow “I'll tell you,” says the joker---. Pray, To meet the clear river which glides below; Your Painter may return this way ; So sure shall I love thee---said Sylvia to me: Bid him to nil the Bear ---and then, --The stream still flows---but changed is she. Bruin will not escape again !".

From the same.

THE

"

J.C.

INTELLIGENCE:

LITERARY AND PAILOSOPHICAL : WITH CHÍTICAL REMARKS,
Journey from India to England,thro' Per- with the matter of a work of this descriptior;

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sia, in the year 1817; by Lieut. Colonel ceive the facts and observations of a travelJOHN JOHNSON, will be perused with much ler in his own plain language, than to meet gratification, as it presents the reader with with them, as we do, on many occasions, novelties at almost every page. An over- distorted and wire-spun by editors of the land journey, to or from India has hitherto press. This work is enriched with engravbeen deemed a most formidable undertak- ings, from drawings by the author, of intering ; but Colonel Johnson has dispelled so esting views, and portraits of remarkable many appreheosions that were groundless, personages in various costumes. An itiveand has pointed out such practicable means rary of the route, with the distances, corfor overcoming really existing difficulties, rected from actual measurement, and an that we conceive many travellers will, in abstract of the travelling expenses from future, follow his example, and prefer the Bombay to Londou, form two curious apjourney by land to a long sea voyage, during pecdices to this valuable and entertaining times of peace. The author, in his preface, work. claims the indulgence of the public for any The disasters of the late voyage of the want of refinement or elegance of language English embassy to China, together with thie arising from inexperience in composition. disgraceful issue of that costiy project, ale We notice little occasion for this plea ; but, still fresh in our remembrance. We have had it been as great as the colonel's modesty already noticed in former pumbers of our presumes, we should not have considered Magazine, the works of Captain Hall, Mr. the style of any importance, io comparison Ellis, and Mr. Mc Leod,.--all of them rela

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