Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, afflict the best! The proud are taught to taste of pain, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy sire to send on earth And bade to form her infant mind. What sorrow was thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. Here is a beautiful passage by AKENSIDE, written in the last year of his life: O ye dales Of Tyne, and ye most ancient woodlands; where, O ye Oft as the giant flood obliquely strides, Nor will I e'er forget you; nor shall e'er The graver tasks of manhood, or the advice Of life, and fixed the colour of my mind By the sweet magic of harmonious verse. There are some noble thoughts in the celebrated Ode by SIR WILLIAM JONES, the Orientalist. Here are some of the lines : What constitutes a State? Not high-raised battlement or laboured mound, Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned; Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain ; And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain : Bishop BERKELEY'S memorable lines, prophetic of planting the arts in the New World, are of enduring interest to us; these are the closing stanzas:— The rise of empire and of arts, The wisest heads and noblest hearts. Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be Westward the course of empire takes its way; The first four acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama of the day; This poem was written when the author was residing at Newport, Rhode Island. To prove that the prophecy has been in great measure verified, we need but refer to the record of noble names in science, history, philosophy, and song, which adorn our American annals. Among the earlier American poets were BARLOW, TRUM bull, Freneau, and ALLSTON, who was also a renowned painter. While residing in Europe, Allston enjoyed the friendship of Southey, Coleridge, and Lamb; as well as of Washington Irving, who expresses a reverence and affection for his pure and noble character, no less than for his genius. While referring to IRVING, we cannot refrain from adding to the world's applause our humble but grateful tribute of regard, as well for the memory of his beautiful character as for his imperishable productions. His name ought undoubtedly to be classed in the category of poets, since much of his charming prose is essentially poetry. He rarely wrote in verse; but there is a little waif of his extant, which he improvised at the instance of his friend Stuart Newton, to accompany his picture of an old philosopher reading from a folio to a young beauty asleep on a chair opposite. Here it is, quaint and characteristic : Frostie age, frostie age! vain all thy learning; Young heart's a reckless rover ; Young beautie, while you read Sleeping, dreams of absent lover. ALLSTON's principal poem is his Sylphs of the Seasons; but his lines on Boyhood are short and sweet : Ah, then how sweetly closed those crowded days! That fade upon a summer's eve. ; When by my bed I saw my mother kneel, His noble Address to England, which was first printed in Coleridge's Sibylline Leaves, 1810, commences with this stanza :— All hail, thou noble land! our fathers' native soil! For thou with magic might Canst reach to where the light Of Phoebus travels bright The world o'er. While the manners, while the arts, that mould a nation's soul, Yet still from either beach The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech We are one! DANA'S principal poem, The Buccaneer, is considered a fine pro duction it is a tale of crime and remorse. are finely descriptive :— The opening stanzas The island lies nine leagues away; along its solitary shore, Save where the bold, wild sea-bird makes her home, Her shrill cry coming through the sparkling foam. But when the light winds lie at rest, and on the glassy, heaving sea, The black duck, with her glossy breast, sits swinging silently, How beautiful! no ripples break the reach, And silvery waves go noiseless up the beach. |