And though by day oft hidden from my sight,
I never knew thee absent at a night;
And not one menial ever did me grace,
Was ever found more constant in his place.
The best of servants thou hast always been;
I never knew thee troubled with the spleen;
And ne'er yet during life, at play or labour,
E'er heard thee snarl, or quarrel with a
neighbour;
[law;
Though oft provok'd, thou never went'st to
Thou wert contented with a civil jaw!

Thou'st done me mighty service in thy day, And till old age brought on thyhealth's day, I never knew thee flinching from thy post, Or grumbling at thy diet, boil'd or roast; Nor has thine appetite seem'd over shy, When thou'st been offer'd hash, or grill, or fry.

Thou wert a merry rogue, and thought no sin Whene'er I laugh'd, to give a cheerful grin; And 'mongst the firmest friends I ever knew, I ne'er found one stood firmer, sir, than you. When thou'st had pains in either nerve or I've felt for thee, as for my very own; [bone,|| And "many a time and oft" have lain awake, Whilst thou'st complain'd of any sudden ache;

Nor have I closed an eye, since man or lad, Whene'er I've found thee sorrowful or sad.

Thou wert a sober, steady, honest fellow; I never knew thee either drunk or mellow; And whilst a servant thou hast been of mine, I never knew thee taste of ale or wine*, Or ever heard thee at thy lot repine.

Till Jove's dread fiat, on one fatal day, Snatch'd from thy heart thy better half away; Then, not till then, did e'er I hear thee moan At fate's decree, or utter one sad groan!

But when thy food thou wert reduc'd to

mump,

And nothing of thee left but one vile stump, Thou took'st it so to heart-fate toll'd thy knell

And I thus bid a faithful friend-farewell! Bellevue-P ace, Leamington Spa, April 1, 1819.

THE

FINAL DISSOLUTION OF GREENLAND.
From Mr. MONTGOMERY'S " Greenland.”
In the cold sunshine of yon narrow dell
Affection lingers; there two lovers dwell,
Greenland's whole family; nor long forlorn,
There comes a visitant; a babe is born.
O'er his meek helplessness the parents smil'd;
'Twas Hope; for Hope is every mother's
child:

Then seem'd they, in that world of solitude,
The Eve and Adam of a race renew'd.
Brief happiness; too perilous to last; [past.
The moon hath wax'd and wan'd, and all is
*The author is a water drinker.

Behold the end: one morn, athwart the wall,
They mark'd the shadow of a rein-deer fall,
Bounding in tameless freedom o'er the snow;
The father track'd him, and with fatal bow
Smote down the victim, but before his eyes
A rabid she-bear pound upon the prize:
A shaft into the spoiler's flank he sent;
She turn'd in wrath, and limb from limb had

rent

The hunter, but his dagger's plunging steel, With riven bosom, made the monster reel; Cuvanquish'd, both to closer combat flew; Assailants each, till each the other slew; Mingling their blood from mutual wounds, they lay

Stretch'd on the carcase of their antler'd prey. Meanwhile his partner waits, her heart at rest,

No burden but her infant on her breast;
With him she slumbers, or with him she plays,
And tells him all her dreams of future days;
Asks him a thousand questions, feigns replies,
And reads whate'er she wishes in his eyes.
Red evening comes; no husband's shadow
falls,
[walls:
Where fell the rein-deer's, o'er the lattic'd
'Tis night; no footstep sounds towards her
door;

The day returns, but he returns no more.
In frenzy, forth she sailies; and with cries,
To which no voice except her own replies
In frightful echoes, starting all around,
Where human voice again shall never sound,
She seeks him, finds him not: some angel-

guide

In mercy turns her from the corpse aside; Perhaps his own freed spirit, lingering near, Who waits to waft her to a happy sphere; But leads her first, at evening, to their cot, Where lies the little one, all day forgot; Imparadis'd in sleep, she finds him there, Kisses his cheek, and breathes a mother's

prayer.

Three days she languishes, nor can she shed One tear between the living and the dead: When her lost spouse comes o'er the widow's

thought,

The pangs of memory are to madness wrought, But when her suckling's eager lips are felt, Her heart would fain-but, oh! it cannotmelt;

At length it breaks, while on her lap he lies, With baby wonder gazing in her eyes. Foor orphan! mine is not a hand to trace Thy little story, last of all thy race: [grown, Not long thy sufferings; cold and colder The arms that clasp thee chill thy limbs to stone. [sigh 'Tis done: from Greenland's coast, the latest Bore infant innocence beyond the sky.

1. Hamson, Priater, 373, suaud,

PAGE

. 63

77 . 116 . ib.

87

64

W. H. STEIL'S Fantasia

104

Case of Captain Norris

105

69

FINE ARTS.

The Dulwich Gallery.

106

77

Theatrical Portraits

107

Intelligence regarding Works of Art in

progress or completed

ib.

THE SELECTOR.

82

On Shakspeare's Female Characters Extracts from a Gleaner's CommonplaceBook.-Antiquity of Coaches-An Account of an Engagement between a Sailor and a Shark-A Love-Letter from an Officer in the Army to a Widow whom he had never seen-A remarkable Instance of the erroneous Notions we form of Things which we have not been acquainted with-An Account of Samuel Clinton, a labouring Man, about 25 Years of Age, who often slept for several Weeks together 92 The Female Tattler.-No. XLIV.

MUSICAL REVIEW.

Correspondence of Miss Hamilton (from the same)

FASHIONS.

London Fashions.--Ladies' Morning Dress 116 Ladies' Evening Dress

General Observations on Fashion and

Miss Hamilton's Residence at Edinburgh (from her "Memoirs," by Miss BENGER)

109

. 113