foreign commodities; except some manufactures of their own, as ticking, bedding, tartan, pladding, Scots cloth, &c. So that Leith for trade, with her merchandise for treasure, excels most, if not all the maritime ports in Scotland.

Th. Pray what other accommodation hath

she?

Ar. She has fish and flesh in abundance, viz. oysters, cockles, muscles, crabs, crawfish, lobsters, soles, plaice, turbet, thornback, cod, keeling, haddock, mackrel, herring, &c. Then there's salmon, trout, pike, perch, eel, &c. but their flesh are beeves, veals, porks, veneson, kid, mutton, lamb, &c. And their fowl are eagles, sig. nets, hawks, geese, gossander, duck and mallard, teal, widgeon, cock, pidgeon, heath-game, moorfowl, curlue, partridg, pheasant, plover grey and green, and many more that I cannot remember. So great is their plenty and variety, that did not the popularity in Edinburgh render things more chargeable than other parts more remote up the country, a man might live almost without expense. And now we relinquish the flourishing ports of Leith, whose foundations are daily saluted by the ocean. O how sweetly the weather smiles, the horizon looks clear, the sky is serene, and the birds you may see them beat the ambient air with their tunable notes. Come, Theophilus, let us mount our horses, and lift up your eyes to behold those lofty imbellishments of Edinburgh.

Th. They are obvious enough, half an eye may see them.

Ar. Welcome to these elevated ports, the princely court of famous Edinburgh. This city stands upon a mighty scopulous mountain, whose foundations are cemented with mortar and stone; where the bulk of her lofty buildings represent it a rock at a reasonable distance, fronting the approaching sun; whose elevations are seven or eight stories high, mounted aloft in the ambient air. But the length, as I take it, exceeds not one mile, and the breadth on't measures little more than half a mile; nor is there more than one fair street, to my best remembrance. But then it is large and long, and very spacious, whose ports are splendid, so are her well-built houses and Palaces, corresponding very much to compleat it their metropolis.

Th. What Fabrick is that on the east of Edinburgh?

Ar. Hallirood-House, the Regal court of Scotland.

Th. But there is yet another great fabrick, that presents westward.

Ar. That's Edinburgh Castle, elevated in the air, on an impregnable precipice of rocky earth, perpendicular in some parts, rampir'd and barrocadoed with thick walls of stone, and graffs proportionable, to contribute an additional strength. So that you are to consider this inaccessible castle shines from a natural as well as an artificial product; because part of it you see contiguous with the rock; but the other part, because affixed by cemented stone, which inoculates and incorporates them so firmly together, that the whole mass of building is of such incredible strength, that it's almost fabulous for any man to report it, or sum up the impregnable lustre and beauty of this fair fortress, that defies all attempts, except famine, disease, or treachery be conduct; so that culverines and cannons signify but little, without bombs and carcasses. On the other hand the defendants must not be too liberal, lest their water forsake them sooner than their ammunition; so inevitably draw upon them the foregoing consequence, and incommode them with a thousand inconveniences. True it is, many arguments of art and artillery have been sent to examine this impregnable castle, but none were ever found more successful than hunger and disease, or the golden apples of the Hesperides. Such kind of magnets muzzle mercenaries, and make them a golden bridg to pass over.

"Th. Is this fair fabrick the ParliamentHouse, where the grandees sit on national affairs?

Ar. Yes, this is their palace where the Parliament sits to accommodate the kingdom; whose famous ports we now relinquish to take a review of the bars of Musselburg."

We are no anglers, which we regret extremely, so that we have not ventured on the sporting part of this tour. But we shall send Captain Franck's book to our correspondent, Duncan M'Farlane at Aberfoyle, who will probably return his remarks on it for our next Number. We therefore say to our readers, in the words of Theophilus, "farewell, for it's almost sunset."

MAZEPPA.*

• MAZEPPA a poem by Lord Byron. Printed for John Murray. Octavo, 5s. 6d.

It vexes me-for I would fain
Have paid their insult back again.

I paid it well in after days:
There is not of that castle gate,
Its drawbridge and portcullis' weight,
Stone, bar, moat, bridge, or barrier left;
Nor of its fields a blade of grass,

Save what grows on a ridge of wall,
Where stood the hearth-stone of the hall;
And many a time ye there might pass,
Nor dream that e'er that fortress was:
I saw its turrets in a blaze,
Their crackling battlements all cleft,

And the hot lead pour down like rain,
From off the scorch'd and blackening roof,
Whose thickness was not vengeance proof.
They little thought that day of pain,
When launch'd, as on the lightning's flash,
They bade me to destruction dash,

That one day I should come again,
With twice five thousand horse, to thank
The count for his uncourteous ride.
They play'd me then a bitter prank,
When, with the wild horse for my guide,
They bound me to his foaming flank:
At length I play'd them one as frank-
For time at last sets all things even-

And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power
Which could evade, if unforgiven,
The patient search and vigil long
Of him who treasures up a wrong.

As the Hetman proceeds, it strikes
us there is a much closer resemblance
to the fiery flow of Walter Scott's chi-
valrous narrative, than in any of Lord
Byron's former pieces. Nothing can
be grander than the sweep and torrent
of the horse's speed, and the slow un-
wearied inflexible pursuit of the wolves
winding close behind him.
Away, Away, my steed and I,
Upon the pinions of the wind,

All human dwellings left behind;
We sped like meteors through the sky,
We rustled through the leaves like wind,
Left shrubs, and trees, and wolves behind;
By night I heard them on the track,
Their troop came hard upon our back,
With their long gallop, which can tire
The hounds deep hate, and hunter's fire:
Where'er we flew they followed on,
Nor left us with the morning sun;
Behind I saw them scarce a rood,
At day-break winding through the wood,
And through the night had heard their feet
Their stealing rustling step repeat.
Oh! how I wish'd for spear or sword,
At least to die amidst the horde,
And perish-if it must be so-
At bay, destroying many a foe.
When first my courser's race begun,
I wish'd the gaol already won;
But now I doubted strength and speed.
Vain doubt! his swift and savage breed
Had nerved him like the mountain-roe;
Nor faster falls the blinding snow
Which whelms the peasant near the door

Whose threshold he shall cross no more,
Bewilder'd with the dazzling blast,
Than through the forest-paths he past-
Untir'd, untamed, and worse than wild;
All furious as a favour'd child
Balk'd of its wish or fiercer still;-
A woman piqued-who has her will.

The earth gave way, the skies roll'd round,
I seem'd to sink upon the ground;
But err'd for I was fastly bound.
My heart turn'd sick, my brain grew sore,
And throbb'd a while, then beat no more:
The skies spun like a mighty wheel;
I saw the trees like drunkards reel,
And a slight flash sprang o'er my eyes,
Which saw no farther: he who dies
Can die no more than then I died.
O'ertortured by that ghastly ride,
I felt the blackness come and go,

And strove to wake; but could not make
My senses climb up from below:
I felt as on a plank at sea,

When all the waves that dash o'er thee,
At the same time upheave and whelm,
And hurl thee towards a desert realm.
My undulating life was as
The fancied lights that flitting pass
Our shut eyes in deep midnight, when
Fever begins upon the brain;

But soon it pass'd with little pain,

But a confusion worse than such :
I own that I should deem it much,
Dying, to feel the same again;
And yet I do suppose we must
Feel far more ere we turn to dust:

No matter; I have bared my brow

Full in Death's face-before-and now.

The next is a wonderful picture of the dream-like awaking from this swoon of utter weariness, brought about by the effect of the waves of a river into which Mazeppa plunged.

My thoughts came back; where was I? Cold,
And numb, and giddy: pulse by pulse
Life reassumed its lingering hold,
And throb by throb; till grown a pang
Which for a moment would convulse,
My blood reflow'd, though thick and chill;
My ear with uncouth noises rang,

My heart began once more to thrill;
My sight return'd, though dim; alas!
And thicken'd, as it were, with glass.
Methought the dash of waves was nigh;
There was a gleam too of the sky,
Studded with stars; it is no dream;
The wild horse swims the wilder stream!
The bright broad river's gushing tide
Sweeps, winding onward, far and wide,
And we are half way, struggling o'er
To yon unknown and silent shore.

The waters broke my hollow trance,
And with a temporary strength

My stiffen'd limbs were rebaptized.
My courser's broad breast proudly braves,
And dashes off the ascending waves
And onward we advance!
We reach the slippery shore at length,
A haven I but little prized,

1819.]

For all behind was dark and drear,
And all before was night and fear.
How many hours of night or day
In those suspended pangs I lay,
I could not tell; I scarcely knew
If this were human breath I drew.
With glossy skin, and dripping mane,
And reeling limbs, and reeking flank,
The wild steed's sinewy nerves still strain
Up the repelling bank.

We gain the top: a boundless plain
Spreads through the shadow of the night,
And onward, onward, onward, seems
Like precipices in our dreams,
To stretch beyond the sight;
And here and there a speck of white,

Or scatter'd spot of dusky green,
In masses broke into the light,
As rose the moon upon my right.
But nought distinctly seen
In the dim waste, would indicate
The omen of a cottage gate;
No twinkling taper from afar ;
Stood like an hospitable star;
Not even an ignis-fatuus rose
To make him merry with my woes:
That very cheat had cheer'd me then!
Although detected, welcome still,
Reminding me, through every ill,
Of the abodes of men."

Then comes one of the dreary and
limitless steppes of the Ukraine.
"Onward we went-but slack and slow;
His savage force at length o'erspent,
The drooping courser, faint and low,
All feebly foaming went.
A sickly infant had had power
To guide him forward in that hour;

But useless all to me.

His new-born tameness nought avail'd,
My limbs were bound; my force had fail'd,
Perchance, had they been free.
With feeble effort still I tried
To rend the bonds so starkly tied-
But still it was in vain ;

My limbs were only wrung the more,
And soon the idle strife gave o'er,

Which but prolong'd their pain:
Up rose the sun; the mists were curl'd
Back from the solitary world
Which lay around-behind-before:
What booted it to traverse o'er

Plain, forest, river? Man nor brute,
Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot,
Lay in the wild luxuriant soil;
No sign of travel-none of toil;
The very air was mute;

And not an insect's shrill small horn,
Nor matin bird's new voice was borne
From herb nor thicket. Many a werst,
Panting as if his heart would burst,

The weary brute still staggered on ;

And still we were-or seemed-alone :
At length, while reeling on our way
Methought I heard a courser neigh,
From out yon tuft of blackening firs.
Is it the wind those branches stirs ?
No, no! from out the forest prance
VOL. V.

A trampling troop; I see them come!
In one vast squadron they advance!

I strove to cry-my lips were dumb.
The steeds rush on in plunging pride;
But where are they the reins to guide?
A thousand horse-and none to ride!
With flowing tail, and flying main,
Wide nostrils-never stretch'd by pain,
Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein,
And feet that iron never shod,
And flanks unscarred by spur or rod.
A thousand horse, the wild the free,
Like waves that follow o'er the sea,

Came thickly thundering on,
As if our faint approach to meet;
The sight re-nerved my courser's feet,
A moment staggering, feebly fleet,
A moment, with a faint low neigh,
He answer'd, and then fell ;
With gasps and glazing eyes he lay,
And reeking limbs immoveable,

His first and last career is done!
On came the troop-they saw him stoop,
They saw me strangely bound along
His back with many a bloody thong:
They stop-they start-they snuff the air,
Gallop a moment here and there,
Approach, retire, wheel round and round,
Then plunging back with sudden bound,
Headed by one black mighty steed,
Who seem'd the patriarch of his breed,
Without a single speck or hair
Of white upon his shaggy hide;
They snort-they foam-neigh-swerve a-
side.

And backward to the forest fly,
By instinct, from a human eye.-
They left me there, to my despair,
Link'd to the dead and stiffening wretch,
Whose lifeless limbs beneath me stretch,
Relieved from that unwonted weight,
From whence I could not extricate
Nor him nor me-and there we lay,
The dying on the dead!

I little deem'd another day

Would see my houseless, helpless head."

The next incident-that of the ravens-surpasses, we think, even those of the wolves and the horses.

"And there from morn till twilight bound,
I felt the heavy hours toil round,
With just enough of life to see
My last of suns go down on me,
In hopeless certainty of mind,
That makes us feel at length resign'd
To that which our foreboding years
Presents the worst and last of fears
Inevitable-even a boon,

Nor more unkind for coming soon;
Yet shunn'd and dreaded with such care,
As if it only were a snare

That prudence might escape:
At times both wish'd for and implored,
At times sought with self-pointed sword,
Yet still a dark and hideous close

3 I