"The watch-tower of the wilderness It sinks in night-the wreck of years. Is this her mighty Capitol? 'Neath its cold shade hyænas dwell, While with a drooping head it bids its pride farewell. "Farewell! farewell! an echo dread Marked by a pile that time derides, "But where am I? brain, my my brain Is turned in sorrow-sympathy O'er Carthage desolated plain Has torn me from my misery; But now again my woes appear, Grief and despair their foreheads rear, And cry 'weep not o'er other's fate; Weep for thyself thou art more dark, more desolate!' "More dark?-Avaunt ye fiends! they lie For ever shrouded;-o'er their tomb Stern Fate has stamped Eternity And is it thus in my dark doom? His day of power again shall rise, His Sun of Glory ride triumphant through the skies! The dark horizon of my hour E'en now is tinged with orient light, Hail Embryo Vengeance! soon a world Colossal Rome shall prostrate lie, And gaspingly re-echo, MARIUS, VICTORY!" HENRY BALDWIN. St. Mary's College, Oscott, June 1819. 'MONG THE ISLANDS OF OCEAN. AIR.-GARYONE. 'Mong the islands of Ocean there is not an isle, Not a nation more dear, not a lovelier land, Where young genius awakes with an earlier smile, Where Revenge is more keen in the patriot's brand; Than where the lash of the Western wave, Rolls its weeping waters on Erin's shore, Where the sons of those sires who lie cold in the grave, Rekindle the ardour that sparkled before. When the goblet is glowing 'neath beauty's bright smile, When the wild wind of fortune is high in the breeze, Then remember the charms of your own native Isle, Though rocked on the billows of far foreign seas. When the meteor of hope sheds its loveliest light, When laurels enwreath thee, and myrtles entwine, Oh! think on the land of thy sires with delight, And drown all other cares in the sparkle of wine. Then crown the bowl in this hour of mirth, Ye sons of Erin, with fairest flowers, Oh! there is not an Isle 'mong the islands of earth, So lovely, so dear as this Eden of ours. When the goblet is glowing, &c. &c. I. STANZAS. HAST thou, of some jewel heedless, Was thy jasmine one selected From the pride of Afric's coast? Had'st thou e'er a captive linnet, Seek not to recal the minute When the suffering warbler died. Friendship thus a care requiring If by thy neglect expiring Falls like them;-to rise no more. ROSA. EL MEDICO TUNANTE: (FROM THE SPANISH OF FEIJOO.) A WANDERING Physician, well versed in the secret lore of the faculty, and who, among other acquirements, boasted the power of gifting old age with the energy of youth, made his appearance at the city of Saragossa. His prospectus was couched in a style so insinuating, as to win the easy credence of the good citizens; and they flocked in crowds to request that he would afford them the benefit of his inestimable skill. He said that the accomplishment of his purpose required that they should give him their exact age, name, and other peculiarities.Among those who sought his aid, were septuagenarians, octogenarians, and nonagenarians. They all were exact in compliance with his demands; concealing nothing, lest the omission might be an obstacle to their renewal of youth; and joyfully heard the summons to attend his lodgings on the ensuing day. They came, according to appointment; and as soon as they had arrived, the quack began to complain, that some witch, envious of the invaluable good which he had hoped to accomplish, had plundered him of the memoranda; he then informed them that they should again entrust him with a fresh document; saying, at the same time, in order to remove all suspense, that the project by which he was to effect his object, was, by burning alive, the oldest of the company whose ashes were to be the means of effecting the metamorphoses in his surviving brethren. Notwithstanding their feelings of horror, they prepared a renewal of their cédulas.These they executed with far less fidelity than they had done before; as, each one, afraid that he possi bly being the senior, might be the unfortunate vic |