transported me beside myself, she was reconciled, and asked me, if I would play a game at cards? "With delight," I replied, and immediately a pack was brought in. We sat down to cribbage, and had played a few games, when by accident Miss NOEL saw the head of my german flute, which I always brought out with me in my walks, and carried in a "You play, Sir,

long pocket within-side my coat. I suppose, on that instrument," this lady said, "and as of all sorts of music this pleases me most, I request you will oblige me with any thing you please." In a moment, I answered, and taking from my pocket-book the following lines, I reached them to her, and told her I had the day before set them to one of Lully's airs, and instantly began to breathe the softest harmony I could make

A SONG.

ALMIGHTY love's resistless rage,
No force can quell, no art assuage :
While wit and beauty both conspire,
To kindle in my breast the fire:

The matchless shape, the charming grace,
The easy air, and blooming face,
Each charm that does in Flavia shine,

To keep my captive heart combine.

I feel, I feel the raging fire!

And my soul burns with fierce desire!
Thy freedom, Reason, I disown,

And beauty's pleasing chains put on;
No art can set the captive free,
Who scorns his offer'd liberty;
Nor is confinement any pain,
To him who hugs his pleasing chain.

Bright Venus! Offspring of the sea!
Thy sovereign dictates I obey;
Submissive own thy mighty reign,
And feel thy power in every vein :
I feel thy influence all-confest,
I feel thee triumph in my breast!
'Tis there is fix'd thy sacred court,
"Tis there thy Cupids gaily sport.

Come, my Boy, the altar place,
Add the blooming garland's grace;
Gently pour the sacred wine,
Hear me, Venus! Power divine!

Grant the only boon I crave,

Hear me, Venus! Hear thy slave!

Bless my fond soul with beauty's charms,

And give me Flavia to my arms.*

As this song is a short imitation of the nineteenth

Ode of the first book of Horace, it is worth your while,

Just as I was finishing this piece of music, old Mr. Noel came into the parlour, in his wonted good

Reader, to see how the Rev. P. Francis has done the whole. I will here set down a few lines:

"Urit me Glyceræ nitor

Splendentis pario marmore purius:

Urit grata protervitas,

Et vultus nimium lubricus aspici."

Which lines are imitated in the first verse of the above song, and a part of the second; and the ingenious Mr. Francis renders them in the following manner

"Again for Glycera I burn,

And all my long forgotten flames return.

As Parian marble pure and bright,

The shining maid my bosom warms;

Her face too dazzling for the sight,

Her sweet coqueting-how it charms!"

The following:

"In me tota ruens Venus

Cyprum deseruit-"

of which the third verse of the song is an imitation, Mr. Francis translates thus:

"Whole Venus rushing through my veins,
No longer in her favourite Cyprus reigns."

humour, and seemed very greatly pleased with me and my instrument. He told me, I was the young man he wanted to be acquainted with, and that if it was no detriment to me, I should not leave him this month to come. "Come, Sir," continued this fine old gentleman, "let me hear another piece of your music-vocal or instrumental as you will, for I suppose you sing as well as you play." "Both you shall have, Sir," I replied, " to the best of my abili

And the lines:

"Hic vivum mihi cespitem, hic
Verbenas, pueri, ponite thuraque
Bini cum patera meri :

Mactatâ veniet lænior hostiâ:"

Which are imitated in the fourth verse of the

song, Mr

Francis translates as follows,

"Here let the living altar rise,

Adorn'd with every herb and flower;
Here flame the incense to the skies,
And purest wines libation pour;

Due honours to the Goddess paid,

Soft sinks to willing love the yielding maid."

You see in this the difference between a translation and an imitation.

ties, and by way of change, I will give you first a song, called

THE SOLITUDE.

YE lofty mountains, whose eternal snows
Like Atlas seem to prop the distant skies;
While shelter'd by your high and ample brows
All nature's beauties feast my ravish'd eyes:
And far beneath me o'er the distant plain
The thunders break, and rattling tempests reign.

Here, when Aurora with her cheerful beam

And rosy blushes marks approaching day;

Oft do I walk along the purling stream,

And see the bleating flocks around me stray: The woods, the rocks, each charm that strikes my sight, Fills my whole breast with innocent delight.

Here gaily dancing on the flow'ry ground

The cheerful shepherds join their flute and voice;
While thro' the groves the woodland songs resound,
And fill th' untroubled mind with peaceful joys.
Music and love inspire the vocal plain,
Alone the turtle tunes her plaintive strain.

Here the green turf invites my wearied head
On nature's lap to undisturb'd repose;
Here gently laid to rest, each care is fled;

Peace and content my happy eye-lids close.