SONNET.-LIFE. THOU who didst give me being-unto Thee Mix'd with its native dust-no more to see And all is but a dream-I dream I live, And this life being past the dream is o'er! The present painful-and the past still worse! How long the future!--would that hope could give A promise 'mid its visionary lore, That the next sun may shine upon my hearse! May 6, 1822. J. W. DALBY. THE COMPLAINT: A COLMANICK STRAIN. O Curas hominum! Point d'argent point de Suisse. Persius. Old Proverb. O! ALL ye Powers who traverse the blue sky, Or lie Supinely on the pillowy clouds Of mortals here below, to heap up wealth who try; To know when thou my wounds wilt heal, And of thy golden ointment grant thy votary a share! For I begin to think myself Abused, And eke most barbarously used, For, just as if I were some worthless elf, You've most ungenerously laid me on the shelf. Yet, for the life of me, I can't divine What could induce your ladyship to shut me Outside, as 'twere, your glittering golden mine; Or, as we moderns say politely, "cut me!" ⚫ Even the gods who walk the sky. Moore's Anacreon. O! if you would but aid me to grow rich, Or Or any paw paw name, Enough to make a decent goddess blush with shame. O! yes I'd leave them all, And like a poet laureat, Who praises those he once did worry at, In prose and verse thy praise great dame I'd loudly squall. ERGO, 'Tis plain your interest you do not know, This great metropolis to saunter through, Or worse, Of Tantalus, Tormented with a never ceasing thirst, Though water flowed around, enough to make him burst! Mary-le-bone, 1822. GEO. J. DE WILDE. EPIGRAM. A BAKER to his Lawyer went The room was close, the rousing fire "This room's too hot for me to hear, Edinburgh, 22nd Jan. 1822. * Reader I blush, am delicate this time, J. Arliss, Printer, London. Peter Pindar. Classic and Polite Literature. FOR THE POCKET MAGAZINE. THE SPECTRE BRIDE, BY THOMAS HALL, ESQ. I HAD been out several hours amidst the Highlands of Scotland, with my dog and gun; the day was above half over, I whistled the dog to me, and set off in search of the habitation of a highlander whom I had formerly had recourse to on such occasions. When fatigued with exertion, and wet and weary in rambling through places fit only for the residence of savages," the hospitable heath, and foaming cup of my white headed host were more acceptable than any can imagine, but those who have been in like situations. I was received with the usual hearty welcome of old Donald into his cabin, for it could scarce lay claim to a higher title; but it was spacious and enlivened with content and happiness, of which more splendid mansions are often destitute. Round the fire were seated three groups, Donald himself and his ancient spouse forming one, a young woman, (their daughter,) and her husband No. 51. G formed the second link, while their children, a prattling boy and girl, hung on the knees of their grandfather, or amused themselves with teazing a large dog, who good naturedly suffered himself to be tormented, without testifying the slightest anger. Having refreshed myself, and had some conversation with my friend, the deepening tints of the western sky began to remind me that I had several miles to return, over a country almost impassable to any but its natives; and that, unless I made the best of my way home, darkness would overtake me before I reached it. I inquired the nearest way back. The old man pointed out to me a kind of path, which wound about a lofty hill, and, afterwards descending, would bring me to the high road to the village where my residence lay. "But surely," said I, "there is a nearer way than round that mountain?" "There is a way to be sure, but-" the old man stopped, he looked cautiously around, and seemed doubtful whether to proceed. "But what-if there is a shorter road-what is there to prevent me from taking it?" "It is dangerous to go that way," he replied," especially as the evening is advancing."-"What-is there any fear of robbers?" "No! no! but"-" But what?" I repeated, "what else is there to fear?" "The road of which I speak,' answered the old man, "lies through a spot which is visited by fearful beings!" "Oh! so a spirit is the occasion of your alarm! I fear no evil from beings of another world; so, point out the way, and let me go." "You must not, shall not go," exclaimed both father and son; "if you should see this being, your life might be in danger!" "How,-why,-and for what cause does any preternatural appearance haunt this spot, of which you seem to entertain so great a horror?" "It is a strange, a fearful story replied he, and will detain you beyond your time." But my curiosity being awakened, was not so easily satisfied, and I at last prevailed on him to relate to me the history of this haunted glen. "You have doubtless," said the old man, "observed during your excursions, a tower which stands alone amidst heaps of stone and other materials?" "I have." "That tower is now all that remains of a castle which once stood there; that tower has stood while thicker walls and stronger roofs have fallen; while other buildings have been borne down by time or storms, that has stood unmoved by tempests, and braving the lightnings, which have levelled their destroying fires at its summit. A preternatural strength is said to be attached to it, în consequence of the events of which it has been the scene. Many years ago I have heard, (for what I am about to tell you happened before my birth,) that the fortress of which that tower formed a part, was the habitation of a nobleman, of whom many dark things have been said. The Lord of Gleuhscair was ambitious, revengeful, feared and detested by his inferiors, and disliked by his equals and superiors; stern and haughty, his look spoke the mind within. His brow was frowning, half hidden by the black hair which hung over it; but his eye is said to have been the most peculiar part of his countenance; it was black, but it blazed with the strangest lustre, and few could sustain without horror its unspeakable glance; it had a wild but determined expression, nearly fiendish. His stature was tall, almost gigantic, and gave him a commanding appearance, which, added to his stern countenance, inspired an unaccountable awe, a fearful feeling, as if the being whom you looked upon was of a different nature, an inhabitant of other worlds. The Baron of Gleuhscair had a wife, as different from himself as morning from midnight; it was the union of an angel with a dæmon, of purity with corruption. Some years afer their marriage, an opportunity offered to the baron of acquiring a great increase of power and riches by marriage; but he was already married. Ambition was his ruling passion; his wife stood between him and the objects which he wished, and he hated her. His treatment of her corresponded with his feelings towards her. On a sudden, however, his behaviour was changed, he became gentle in his conduct, even affectionate to her, and her grateful heart returned it tenfold. One day he proposed to hunt on the morrow, and seemed to wish for her attendance. She complied with his request, and he seemed fonder than ever of her. The morning |