17 Christ on the Mount

18. Portrait of Govartiuso
19. The Nativity

I

50 19dt qidabro aiH 13 A Concerta ograda ode ofTitian 162 Pope Julius the SecondRaphael. 31.19160 8 19ûts,bavot od tadt 32. Correggio. 93. The Marriage a-la-mode, Hogarth, 34.2005 sub bas vitussa silt 167 85. of bus zountɔig otto non 36, Portrait of Lord Heathfield, Sir J. Reynolds. 57. The Village Holiday

Vandyke. Rembrandt. 20. The Woman taken in Adukod, A 01 termicos

21. The Embarkation of

Ursula.

22. Abraham and Isaac

23. A Land Storm

Rembrandt.

Sft Claude.

G. Poussin.

G. Poussin.

124. A Landscape, with Cattle

and Figures

25. Apollo and

Silenus

26. Holy Family in a
scape 931994

27. The Portrait of Rubéns
28. Studies of Heads

29. Studies of Heads

-88. Portrait of the Painter

An estimate of the sum which will be required to defray the charge of purTchasing, together with the expenses incidental to the preservation and public exhibition of the collection of pictures Rabens. 9d which belonged to the late J. J. Angerof stein, Esq. 60,000l.€ J. C. HERRIES. not zupm Whitehall Treasury Chambers, March 26, 1824.

Vandyke

Correggio.
Correggio.

b

LORD BYRON'S LATEST VERSES. A
Do la vui seoors bag bruong loại nsd

Missolonghi, Jan. 2%, 1824.

"On this day I complete my thirty-sixth year.”

"Tis time this heart should be unmoved,

Since others it has ceased to move; qd malis»W
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,

Still let me love.

My days are in the yellow leaf, ., 2976# adT
The flowers and fruits of love are gone, sid
The worm, the canker, and the grief,q

› Are mine alone. bort.
The fire that in my bosom preys, it abпrw T
bage to mov synem edil

Is like to some volcanic isle,,

No torch is kindled at its blaze;

fool A funeral pile; 91: 992 I "*

The hope, the fears, the jealous care,
Th' exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share, dil dil
But wear the chaing

ã390 9, 1-feón a lo gamingni en l

But 'tis not here it is not here por voidach al

Such thoughts should shake my soul; nor now— noWhere glory seals the hero's bier, bib !+sse woH Or binds his brow.

jffer fxen wind 100 aved I

The sword, the banner, and the field,

as¡A "

Glory and Greece around us see on talt 10й
The Spartan borne upon his shield
Was not more free.

Awake! not Greece she is awaké ! ! 10й
Awake, my spirit,think through whom
My life-blood tastes its parent lake time
9168691 1500 m And then strike home? T

I tread

Seek out-less often sought than found-
A soldier's grave for thee the best. 901
Then look around, and choose thy ground,
49219 .net idgnoloani! And take thy rest.

"egy dixie-ptriát for status & you wil

bevomSTANZAS,

event of bozgoɔ a£i ti arodto sɔai2

Written by P. B. Sehelley, in Dejection, near Naples.

"The sun is warm, the sky is clear,

The waves are dancing fast and bright,sbyM
Blue isles and snowy mountains wearwolf edT
The purple noon's transparent lightmow T
Around its unexpanded buds;

Like many a voice of one delight

9 9dT The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, il el

The City's voice

par pig pigyitude el

-; 9560 231 36 bin a

"I see the Deep's untrampled floor

With green and purple seaweeds strowa odT

I see the waves.
es upon the shore,

betlaxy 'dT
Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrownA

I sit upon the sands alone,

The lightning of the noon-tide ocean
Is flashing round me, and a tonerad ton ait' tud
wonArises from its measured motion,uodt do

How sweet! did any heart how share in my emotion.

word eid abmid 10

"Alas! I have hope nor health,

Nor peace within nor calm around yo
have not hop
Bas yrold
Nor that content surpassing wealth

The sage in meditation found, netr£q? HT
And walked with inward glory crowned--

Nor fame, nor power, nor love,ynor leisure. A
Others I see whom these surroundmow A
Smiling they live and call life pleasure 4+ y M
To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.

"Yet

"Yet now despair itself is mild,
Even as the winds and waters are;
I could lie down like a tired child,
And weep away the life of care
Which I have borne and yet must_bear,
Till death-like sleep might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air

My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.

"Some might lament that I were cold,
As I, when this sweet day is gone,
Which my lost heart, too soon grown old,
Insults with this untimely moan;
They might lament-for I am one

Whom men love not, and yet regret,
Unlike this day, which, when the sun
Shall on its stainless glory set,

Will linger, though enjoy'd, like joy in memory yet."

AN EPICIDIUM,

In Memory of a very promising young Man, (Mr. William Hernaman, of Totnes, Devonshire,) who died of the Yellow Fever at La Guayra, August 9, 1823.

He left his home with a bounding heart,—

For the world was all before him;

And felt it scarce a pain to part,

Such sun-bright beams came o'er him.
He turned him to visions of future years,-

The rainbow's hues were round them;

And a father's bodings--a mother's tears

Might not weigh with the hopes that crowned them.

That mother's cheek is far paler now

Than when she last caressed him;

There's an added gloom on that father's brow
Since the hour when last he blessed him.

Oh! that all human hopes should prove
Like the flowers that will fade to-morrow;
And the cankering fears of anxious love
Ever end in truth-and sorrow!

He left his home, with a swelling sail,
Of fame and fortune dreaming,-
With a spirit as free as the vernal gale,

Or the pennon above him streaming.

He

POETRY.

[161]

him at tsen isqeeb won 19Y "
He hath reached his goal by a distant wave,
'Neath a sultry sun they've laid him
And stranger-forms bent o'er his grave, f.
When the last sad rites were paid him.

He should have died in his own loved land,
With friends and kindred near him,—
Not have withered thus on a foreign strand,

With no thought, save of heaven, to cheer him.
But what recks it how?is his sleep less sound
In the port where the wild winds swept him,
Than if home's green turf his grave had bound,
Or the hearts he loved had wept him?
900 ms I jot--inva

Then why repine? Can he feel the rays
That pestilent sun sheds o'er him? : +
Or share the grief that must cloud the days
avy of the friends who now deplore him?
No:-his bark's at anchor,-its sails are furled-
It hath 'scaped the storm's deep chiding,-
And, safe from the buffetting waves of the world,
In the haven of Peace is riding!

A. A. W.

1824.

A

Remain your friend?-This morn, while yet the sun
Dwelt with a crimson mist upon our vineyard,
And purple clouds, like happy lovers, stole
With smiles and tears into each other's bosom,
I threw my lattice wide to drink the stream T
Of liquid odours rolling from the south;
And then came mix'd with it a marriage song, l'
Whose distant melody did seem to dance
Upon a hundred lips of youthful revelry,
And bells and flageolets, and all the sounds
Befitting happiness and summer sunshine.
'Twas a strange thing to weep at, yet I wept
I know not why.-Some weep for grief, and some
For joy-but I for neither, or for both is H
Mix'd in a feeling more beloved than either,
Which weigh'd my heart down like a drooping bough
O'erloaded with its luxury of roses!

And then-and then-the thoughts of silly maids

L

Run