Low in the west, of splendor shorn,
The midnight moon with bloody horn
Sheds her last beam on him forlorn,

Who fell in fight so gloriously.

Oh! long her crescent wax and wane
Ere she behold such fray again,
Such dismal night, such heaps of slain,

Foe mix'd with foe promiscuously.

HORACE IN PHILADELPHIA.

BOOK 1. ODE 7.

Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon, aut Mitylenen,
Aut Ephesum, bimarisve Corinthi

Mania, vel Baccho Thebas, vel Apolline Delphos
Insignes, aut Thessala Tempe.

Me nec tam, &c.

LET others sing in tuneful strains,
Virginia's hills or Jersey's plains,
I will not blame their lay;

Let them in verse melodious praise,
The groves where lonely Schuylkill strays,
And wins his devious way.

Sweet Lehi's clear pellucid wave,

Where Cynthia loves her beams to lave,
With rapture oft I've seen;

Wild Susquehanna's rapid tide,

Majestic Hudson's flowery side,

And Mohawk's margent green.

But, ah! the scenes where most I love,

In meditation lone to rove,

And yield to Fancy's dream,

Are where, rude cliffs and woods among,
Dear Wissahickon pours along

His gently rippling stream.

For here mid rocks and tangled dells,
The solitary owlet dwells,

Her immemorial seat.

Unnumber'd warblers here repair,
And nameles flowers perfume the air,
And deck the wild retreat.

How sweet in this sequestered spot,
All cares resign'd, the world forgot,
To muse a vacant day,

And hear, far off, the hum of men,
* That when to-morrow dawns again,`
Must call me hence away.

BOOK 5. ODE 10.

"Horrida tempestas cœlum contraxit; et imbres,
Nivesque deducunt Jovem:" &c.

WAR's darkling cloud with lurid gloom,
Deforms the face of day,

And Pleasure's bright and rosy bloom,
Is banished far away.

Bellona's chariot thunders round,

The Muses fly the direful sound,
Apollo sad retires,

And Cupid weping hangs his head,
To see his shafts unheeded sped;

While Hymen's torch expires.

Her gorgon fiercely Pallas shakes,
And exiled Hermes flies,
Affrighted Pan the woods forsakes,

His pipe neglected lies.

Ah! where has merry Momus flown,

And where those hours so late our own,

Of ease and social glee,

The wholesome toil, the tranquil rest,
Unclouded mind and cheerful breast,

From grief and terror free?

But joys, my friends, may yet be ours,
In spite of War's alarms,

We still have wine and shady bowers,
And Friendship still has charms.
What days the fates to us consign,
To Bacchus give and cheering wine,
And chace these fears away,

What though to-morrow sees us fall,
Will thinking turn aside the ball?
Then frolic while you may.

SELECTED POETRY.

One of our native bards, a gentleman who entwines the warrior's with the poet's laurel, thus expressively addresses his mistress:

Ан! do you ask, my gentle dear,
Why I am sad when you are gay?
It is because I then most fear,
You chace me from your heart away.

And would you know, my lovely maid,
Why I appear so cheerful now,

It is because I love the shade
Seen hovering o'er your tranquil brow.

It is because, my beauteous fair,
I think you feel far more for me,
When sadness mingles in your air,
Than when you frolic light and free.
For Pity wears no airy guise,
Her's is a soft and thoughtful mein,
And if within the breast she lies,
She in the pensive face is seen.

"EDMUND THE WANDERER."

SONNET TO EVENING.

MEEK twilight haste to shroud the glaring day,
And bring the hour my pensive spirit loves,
When o'er the hill is shed a paler ray,

That gives to silence and to night the groves.
Yes, let the gay the roseate Morning hail,

When in the varied pomp of light arrayed,
She bids fresh beauty bloom along the vale,
And rapture tremble in the vocal shade.
Sweet is the lucid Morning's opening flower,
Her choral melodies benignly rise,

But dearer to my soul the tranquil hour,

At which her blossoms close, her music dies;
For then mild Nature while she droops her head
Wakes the soft tear 'tis luxury to shed.

TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.

We thank our new and modest correspondent for his poem on the battle of Bridgewater. It is a production creditable, in no small degree, to his genius and taste, and its reception will be flattering, we hope, to his ambition, and an inducement to him to continue and extend his favours. Such a Muse during such times, should never be found loitering in the bowers of repose. In scenes of war and danger, the song of the poet should accompany and give force to the holt of the warrior. When the latter strikes with effect, the former should swell with rapture and enthusiasm. The hero fights for his country, but he fights also for renown. If denied the latter, the genuine food of a noble and daring spirit, his arm will soon become nerveless in battle. What Alexander most envied to Achilles was the song of Homer and the friendship of Patroclus.

While such soldiers as Brown, Scott and Gaines direct the battle, and such pens as that of our correspondent, with the additional powers which riper age and further experience will give it,

continue to celebrate their actions, we shall have no cause, as Americans, to blush or to despair.

Having felt very sensibly, in our last number, the silence of our friend and correspondent, Horace in Philadelphia, we hail with the warmer welcome his contributions to the present. In relation to his pen, we have had satisfactory experience that the worth of an article is known by the want of it. He can in no other way gratify us so much as by continuing to be himself, and allowing us to hear from him frequently.

Our southern correspondent who politely furnished us with an ode previously published in the Charleston City Gazette, is informed that it has not been hitherto our practice to make selections from the daily prints of the country; nor should we feel ourselves justified in doing it now on any other ground than that of preserving pieces of the highest merit. From that gen. tleman, whose signature (we known not whether real or fictitious) we are unable with certainty to decypher, it will gratify to hear as an original writer.

We fully concur with our correspondent in relation to "Watts on the Improvement of the Mind." We regard it as a work of high merit, and are persuaded that both young and old would be much benefitted by frequent and careful perusals of it. In the estimation of competent judges, its character and standing are already too well established to need or derive any further weight from our recommendation. To the politeness and laudable intention of our correspondent, however, we owe this notice, and beg him to accept our apology for not having made it sooner.

The favours of Edgar, from camp Bloomfield, were too late for the present number. We shall hereafter find room for their insertion. Should the events of the present conjuncture field of strife," we wish him, in addition to personal safety, the warrior's entwined with the Muse's laurels

call him to the