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1157 Poetry

116 Its silver beams rest on the tombs,

of a blood-vessel, occasioned by too violent But enter not the grave's confines !

exercise, closed the earthly scene of this amiaTbere neither son nor moonlight shinee, ble and ingenious young man, at the age of But blackest night for ever dwells.

twenty-two.-.-Crito.] The joy and grief of ages past,

WEET ev'ning star! whose placid ray The father's hope, the widow's stay,

, The fear, and hopes of former day, Indulge thy vot'ry's pensive lay; Are mingled in one common mass.

O hear a song devoid of art! Why are the dead reserv'd with care ! Hash'd are the woods, the groves, the vales, I see each narrow house confin'd

A sacred stillness breathes o'er all; Or with the briar or willow bind,

While soft o'er hills and dewy dales Or marble monument inscrib'd ?

The mellow beams of moon-light fall. 'Tis the bright hope the Bible gives,

Calm'd are my thoughts, no wild'ring woes That Death shall render back his slain,

Within my tranquil bosom rage ; And all the dead shall live again,

Might I enjoy such sweet repose, That teaches thus to guard their dust.

From life's gay morn to closing age! This storehouse of the dead shall ope,

No fame I'wish, no wealth require, And all that sleep in dust shall wake;

No sigh for grandeur heaves my breast;

RETIREMENT's shade's my sole desire, When the archangel's

trump shall shake The deep foundations of the earth.

My only wish domestic rest !
Daniel COPSET.

Do they who climb AMBITION's height,

Who eager grasp at scepter'd power, Braintree ; May 29, 1816.

Feel that still for of fix'd delight,

That soothes the swain's uoruffled bour?'
Safe in life's vale, from harsh alarms,

He tarps to bliss whate'er he sees;
From the New Monthly Magazine:

Him Nature's sweetly simple charms,

And all her varying scenes can please.

Dear to my heart the village green,

When drest in Ev'nixg's pensive beans, By the late ALPRED PoinTZ SANDERBOX. O may I there, unknowo, unseen,

Feel sorrow but in Fancy's dreams! [The following lines are the production of Yes! may my life there glide away, a young gentleman now no more! Though Smooth as the stream that murmurs near written before he had attained his twentieth And from my home, if e'er I stray, year, they discover a correct taste, united with

May all I see that home endear? a fine imagination. We find in them none of those laboured ornaments---none of those pom- When death sball close my wearied eyes, pous and fantastic epithets which usually load

And friends around my bed shall weep. juvenile performances. A chaste simplicity, May I ('t is all I then shall prize,) every where supported by elegance, is (if my

Beneath the hallow'd church-yard sleep! prejudices do not mislead me) their distin. And may the morn my lonesome grave guishing character. They address the heart Gem with the sparkling dews of beaven; by the tenderness of their

sentiments and re- And may the breeze the green grass wave, commend themselves to the taste by the purity

And o'er it beam the sun of even! of their style. The youth who has given this early display of genius was a native of North- And nought be heard near my low cell, leach, in Gloucestershire, and received a part Save village-sounds at daylight's close ; of his education at the Free School there, of Then may the softly pensive beli* which his father was head-master. About the Soothe, sweetly soothe, my last repose i age of thirteen, he had the misfortune to lose his father, who died of an apoplexy, 9000 after he had obtained some church preferment. The destitute situation of the family, occasioned by this event, drew upon them the benevolent ai From the Gentleman's Magazine. tention of the late Dowager Lady Spencer,

SONG. who adorned high life by the lustre of her vtrtues. Under her patronage, the subject of this

By Lord THURLOW. brief memoir was sent to Pembroke College, , his with an


thorn, could not check.' The Greek and Roman And saffron cowslips the green meads adoro ; Classics were bis particular favourites; and Wood-loving primroses their stars display, he acquired a skill in them which older schol. And wheaten fields are in their prime array: ars seldom attain, of which a version of Pope's Now hedge-sows bud with green ; the berchen Messiah into Latin portry (the product of some of his leisure hours in college) is a suf. And household elder of their leaves are free: cient evidence. It shews a mind well acquain- And Procue 'gins to sing, and frequent show'rs ted with the felicities of style and expression, Augment the foods, and swell 'the chalie'd with the versification, and idiomatical elegan

tow'rs. cies of the Roman Poets. But his literary rine reer, though brilliant, was short. The roprire * Curfew.

ardour and activity of mind which including Now them pied April shows her blossom'd



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117) Poetry

[118 Let as, my Silvia, to the woods begone, With some new bope, or legend old,

And make the birth-day of the year our own. Or song heroically bold;
Thou art as sweet as Spring; as dear to me But even these at length grew cold.
As is the golden honey of the bee;

Our voices took a dreary tone,
And Ocean shall be parted from the strand, An echo of the dungeon-stone,
Ere I forsake thee or thy lov'd command. A grating sound---not full and free

As they of yore were wont to be :
It might be fancy---but to me

They never sounded like our own.

I was the eldest of the three,

And to uphold and cheer the rest
By Lord Byron.

I ought to do---and did my best---

Aod each did well in his degree.

The youngest, whom my father loved,
Nor grew it white

Because our mother's brow was given
la a single night,

Tohim--with eyes as blue as heaven,
As men's have grown from sudden fears : For him my soul was sorely moved ;
My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, And truly might it be distrest
But rusted with a vile repose,

To see such bird in such a nest;
For they have been a dungeon's spoil,

For he was beaatiful as day.-And mine has been the fate of those (When day was beautiful to me

SO To whom the goodly earth and air,

As to young eagles, being free)---
Are bana'd and barr'd--forbidden fare, 10 A polar day, which will not see
But this was for my father's faith

A sunset till its summer's gone,
I suffered chains and courted death ; Jts sleepless summer of long light,
That father perish'd at the stake,

The sa iw-clad offspring of the sun :
For tenets be would not forsake ;

And thus he was as pure and bright, And for the same his lineal race

And in his natural spirit gay, In darkness found a dwelling place ;

With tears for nought but other's ills, We were seven--who now are one, And then they flowed like mountain rills, Six io youth and one in age,

Unless he could assuage the woe

98 Finish'd as they had begun,

Which he abhorr'd to view below. Proud of Persecution's rage ;

v. One in fire, and two in field, Their belief with blood have seal'd;

The other was as pare of mind, Dying as tbeir father died,

But formed to combat with his kind; For the God their foes denied ;

Strong in his frame, and of a mood Three were in a dungeon cast--

Which’gainst the world in war had stood, Of whom this wreck is left the last.

And perish'd in the foremost rank

With joy :---but not in chains to pine :

His spirit withered with their clank,
There are seven pillars of gothic mould, I saw it silently decline---
In Chillon's dangeons deep and old,-- And so perchance in sooth did mine ; 100
There are seven columns massy and grey, But yet I forced it on to cheer
Dim with a dull imprisoned ray,

30 Those relies of a home so dear. A sanbeam which bath lost its way,

He was a hunter of the hills, And through the crevice and the cleft

Had followed there the deer and wolf; Of the thick wall is fallen and left;

To him this dungeon was a gulf, Creeping o'er the floor so damp,

And fettered feet the worst of ills.
Like a marsh's meteor lamp :

And in each pillar there is a ring,
And in each ring there is a chain ;

Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls;
That iron is a cankering thing,

A thousand feet in deptb below For in these limbs its teeth remain, Its massy waters meet and flow ; With marks that will not wear away,

40 Thus much the fathom-line was sent 110 Till I have done with this new day,

From Chillou's snow-white battlement, Which now is painful to these eyes,

Which round about the wave enthralls & Which bave not seen the sun so rise

A double dungeon wall and wave For years--- I cannot count them o'er,--

Have made---and like a living grave
I lost their long and heavy score

Below the surface of the lake
When my last brother droop'd and died, The dark vault lies wherein we lay,
And I lay living by his side.

We heard it ripple night and day;

Sounding o'er our heads it knock'd

And I have felt the winter's spray They chain'd us each to a column stone, Wash through the bars when winds were high And we were three---yet each alone ; And wanton in the happy sky;

121 We could not inove a single pace,


And then the very rock hath rock'd, We could not see each other's face,

And I have felt it shake unshock'd, Bat with that pale and vivid light

Because I could have smil'd to see That made us strangers in our sight ;

The death that would have set me free. And thas together---yet apart,

VII. Fettered in band, bet pined in beart; *Twas still some solace in the dearch

I said my nearer brother pined, of the pure elements of earth,

I said his mighty heart declinod, To dearken to each other's speech,

He loath'd and put away his food; And each turn comforter to each.

It was not that 'twas coarse and rade,

Literary Intelligence.

(120 For we were used to hunter's fare, 130 I've seen it on the breaking ocean And for the like had little care:

Strive with a swoln convulsive motion,
The milk drawn from the mountain goat I've seen the sick and ghastly bed
Was changed for water from the moat, or Sin delirious with its dread:
Our bread was such as captive's tears

But these were horrors---this was woe
Have moisten'd many a thousand years, Uomix'd with such--but sure and slow;
Since man first pent his fellow men

He faded, and so calm and meek, Like brutes within an iron den :

So softly worn, so meekly weak, But what were these to us or him ?

So tearless, yet so tender---kind, These wasted not his heart or limb ;

And grieved for those he left behind ; My brother's soul was of the mould 140 While all the while, a cheek whose bloom 19 Which in a palace liad grown cold,

Was as a mockery of the tomb, Had his free breathing been denied

Whose tints as gently sunk away The range of the steep mountain's side : Asa departing rainbow's rayBut why delay the truth !--- he died.

An eye of most transparent light, I saw, and could not hold his head,

That almost made the dungeon bright,
Nor reach his dying hand---nor dead,

And not a word of murmur---not
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, A groan o'er his untimely lot,---
'To rend ard gnash my bonds in twain. A little talk of better days,
He died--and they unlocked his chain, A little hope, my own to raise,
And scoop'd for him a shallow grave 150 for I was sunk in silence--lost

90 Even from the cold earth of our cave,

In this last loss, of all the most ; I begg'd them, as a boon, to lay

And then the sighs he would suppress
His corse in dust whereve the day

Of fainting nature's feebleness,
Might shine---it was a foolish thought, More slowly drayo, grew less and less :
But then within my brain it wrought, I listened, but I could not hear--
That even in death bis freeborn breast I called, for I was wild with fear;
In such a dungeon could not rest.

I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread
I might have spared my idle prayer... Would not be thus admonished ;
They coldly laughid--and laid bim there : I called, and thoaght I heard a sound-..
The flat and turfless earth above

160 I burst my chain with one strong bound, 210 The being we so much did love ;

And rushed to him :--I found him not, His empty chain above it leant,

I only stirred on this black spot,
Such murder's fitting monument !

I only lived---I only drew

The accursed breath of dungeon-dew;
But he, the favourite and the flower

The last---the sole---the dearest link Most cherished since his natal hour,

Between me and the eternal brink, His mother's image in fair face,

Which bound me to my failing race The infant love of all his race,

Was broken in this fatal place.

One on the earth, and one beneath.
His martyr'd father's dearest thought,
My latest care, for whom I sought

My brothers---both had ceased to breathe: To hoard my life, that his might be 170

I took that hand which lay so still, Less wretched now, and one day free;

Alas ! my own was full as chill ; He, too, who yet had held untired,

I had not strength to stir or strive,

But felt that I was still alive---
A spirit natural or inspired--
He, too, was struck, and day by day

A frantic feeling when we know
Was withered on the stalk away.

That what we love shall ne'er be so. O God! it is a fearful thing

I know not why, To see the human soul take wing

I could not die, In any shape, in any mood :

I had no earthly hope---but faith,

And that forbade a selfish death. I've seen it rusbing forth in blood.

Concluded in our next.



Mr. Nichols has nearly completed at the The Round Table, a collection of Essays, press Two Volumes of " Illustrations of Lit. on Literature, Men, and Manners. By LEIGH erature, consisting of Genuine Memoirs and Hunt and William HAZLITT. 2 vols. 19mo. Original Letters of Eminent Persons, who Mr. W. SAVAGE is making great progress flourished in the Eighteenth Century;" and in his work on Decorative Printing; which intended as a Sequel to the “ Literary Anec- promises to form a new era in Printing, by dotes.”

enabling us to represent subjects in their He has also nearly ready for publication, a proper colours, so as to imitate Drawings, at Third Quarto Volume of the Biographical the common press, and by the usual process. Memoirs of William HOGART8; with' illus Mr. Coke, of Holkham, was tbe purchaser, trative Essays, and 50 Plates not in the two at Mr. Roscoe's sale, of the fine portrait of former Volumes.

Leo the Tenth, for 500 gaineas.---The library Shortly will appear a new work, comprise sold for £5150; the prints for £1880 ; and the ing The State Lottery, a Dream : by Sam. drawings £738. Roberts.--Also Thoughts on Wheels, a Poem: Mr. Campbell, the Poet, has deterinined to By James Montgomery, Author of the Waq- proceed with his Critical Lives of the Poes, derer of Switzerland, &c. In one vol. Duo- with Specimens, which will certainly appear decimo.

in the course of the winter.

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From the Europeaa Magazine. What passion cannot Music raise and quell! rational amusement, which, relieving the

When Jubal struck the cborded shell, His list'ning brethren stood around,

mind at intervals from the fatigue of seAnd wond'ring on their faces fell, rious occupation, invigorates and prepares To worship that celestial sound ;

it for fresh exertion. It is the perfection Less than a God they thought there could not dwell

of any science to unite these advantages, Within the hollow of that shell

to promote the advancement of public That spoke so sweetly and so well : Whae passion cannot Music raise

and quell! and private virtue, and to supply such a

DRYDEN. degree of amusement, as to supersede the By Music, minds an equal temper know,

necessity of recurrence to frivolous purNor swell too high, nor sink too low;

suits for the sake of relaxation and of If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, this nature, in a peculiar degree, is the Masic her soft assuasive voice applies;

science of Music. Or when the soul is press'd with cares, Exalts her in eoliv'ning airs.

The sister of Mirth and friend of Warriors she fires with animated sounds : Sorrow, it is this which recreates our Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds ; spirits when fatigued with care, that ban, Melancholy lifts her head, Morpheus rouses from his bed,

ishes our melancholy when oppressed Sloth unfolds her arms, and wakes, with sorrow, that augments our pleasures Listning Envy drops her snakes ; Totestine wars no more our passions wage,

when inclined for mirth; as seasonable And giddy factions hear away their rage. in grief as in joy; as properly employed

Music the fiercest grief can charm,
And Fate's severest rage disarm :

in ceremonies of the greatest solemnity, Miusic cao soften pain to ease,

as in those of mirth and pleasure ; as And make despair and madness please ; much relished when we are in solitude Our joys below it can improve, Andantedate the bliss above.

as when we are in company; it is this

POPE. alone which, at once calculated to delight THE THE value of any science, says the young and old, the joyful and the

Tytler, is to be estimated according sad, is equally suited to all ages and cato its tendency to promote improvement; pacities, all times and places. either in private virtue, or in those qual To a science like this, then, possessed ities which render man extensively use- of such great and varied advantages, we ful to society. Some objects of pursuit should imagine it impossible for any to have a secondary utility ; in furnishing find objection; and though it is not en

Eng. Mag. Vol. I.

On Music

(124 tirely the case, yet its opponents, as it is might be applied to better purposes? And natural to suppose, are comparatively might it not, as is too frequently the case, and fortunately few.

be applied to worse ? Might not the The chief and only arguments, how- mind that is thus engaged, be otherwise ever, that seem to be urged against its vacant and misemployed ; exercised upcultivation are, the immoral effects which on thoughts that are frivolous and useless, it is believed to produce in female minds, or, what would be still worse, upon such by the employment of their thoughts as are vicious and improper ? might not too much upon the subject of love ; the the hours we devote to this be otherwise time which it occupies, that might be consumed in thg doing of nothing, or, devoted to better purposes ; and its ten- what would be still worse, in the doing dency to effeminate the soul and banish of harm ; frittered and fooled away in the the manly virtues.

shuffling and cutting of cards, the perusal of The first argument against the study novels, or an over-attention to the foppeof music, the immoral impression it is ries of dress, and the frivolities of fashion. apt to produce by employing the mind The third argument, addaced by way too much upon the subject of love, is of objection to this art, is the tendency it certainly a false one. The same objec- is said to possess in effeminating the soul, tion might be made with equal force, to and banishing the manly virtues ; but the cultivation of letters. We know that the truth of this assertion must be denied; there are works of an immoral tendency, on the contrary, there is nothing, when as well as those of an opposite nature ; properly directed, so well calculated to but it would be absurd, on this account, exait the mind, or ameliorate the heart. to condemn the cultivation of literature in general. In respectable families, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds


The man that hath not music in his soul, neither books nor songs of an immoral or is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; improper description are, of course, ad- The motions of his spirits are dull as night,

And his affections dark as Erebus ; mitted; and, where it is otherwise, the Let no such man be trusted. fault must not be attributed to letters or

SHAKSPEARE the science of music, which in the hands of the well-intentioned will ever be

Is there a heart that music cannot meit?

Alas! how rugged is that heart forlorn! wielded in a good cause, as instruments Is there, who ne'er those mystic transports to suppress vice and encourage virtue,


Of solitude and melancholy born ? The next objection, that is urged He needs not woo the muse”; he is her scori; against music, is the time that it occu The sophist's robe of cobweb he shall twine; pies—but what is this? rather a reflec

Mope o'er the schoolman's peevish page; or


than the science ; And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine, an argument that may be equally applied Sneak with the scoundrel fox, or grunt with

glutton swine.

BEATTIE to every thing else that is excellent as this; for what is there good and useful,in mod

But there are no greater testimonies eration, that is not at the same time hurtful in favour of this science than the respect and pernicious, in the extreme? as well which it has received from the first chamight we, for the same reason,argue against racters of all ages and nations, sacred and food, because there are some who are in profane. Onitting, however, to speak temperate in feasting ; food in itself is of its divine sanction ; * the share it posbeneficial ; it is only in excess that it sessed in the Jewish service ;+ and the becomes injurious ; it is not this, there

place it still bolds in the religious cerefore, that deserves censure when we suf- monies of the present day; we only obfer from the effects of its abuse ; the reproof must fall upon ourselves ; and it is the same with music; if we allow it to * 2 Chron. xxix. 95, &c. engross too much of our time, it is our

+ Vide Lightfoot's Description of the Tenown error, and cannot, in justice, be ple of Solomon, and Capel's Templi Hie rasoproduced as an objection to the science. ymitani triplex delineatio ex Villalpando

Josepho, Maimonide et Talinude, prefixed to -But the time that is occupied in this Walton's Polyglot, &c.

tion upon

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