POETRY.

THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS.

A new poem with this title has recently been published in England, from the pen of Lord Byron. It is a Turkish tale, and a companion piece to his Giaour. The following splendid description of Asiatic scenery opens the first canto.

KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle

Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture-the love of the turtle-
Now melt into sorrow-now madden to crime?-
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine?

Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine,
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom;

Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,

And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;

Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,

In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,

And the purple of Ocean is deepest in die;

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,

And all, save the spirit of man, is divine

'Tis the clime of the east-'tis the land of the sun

Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done?

O! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

The following is a description of Zuleika, the heroine of the poem

Fair-as the first that fell of womankind

When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling,
Whose image then was stamped upon her mind-
But once beguiled-and ever more beguiling;
Dazzling as that, O! too transcendent vision

To sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,
And paints the lost on earth, revived in heaven-
Soft-as the memory of buried love-

Pure-as the prayer which childhood wafts above-
Was she the daughter of that rude old chief,
Who met the maid with tears-but not of grief.

Who hath not proved-how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel-until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight-
His changing cheek-his sinking heart confess
The might-the majesty of loveliness?
Such was Zuleika-such around her shone-
The nameless charms unmarked by her alone-

The light of love-the purity of grace-
The mind-the music breathing from her face!
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole-

And O! that eye was in itself a soul!

The following is an exquisite picture of female gentleness and sensibility.

And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped-
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry-
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,
Even pity scarce can wish it less!

For the Analectic Magazine.

ON FRIENDSHIP.

How sweet is the mem'ry of joys that are past,
But joys are delusive as virtue is rare ;
And when age cools the passions and deadens the taste,
We barely remember that once such things were.

So friendships, sometimes-e'er they ripen, grow old,
As the frost nips the spring-buds that soonest appear;
And the heart that first opens is first to grow cold,

And pretends to forget that of late--such things were.

I've seen one on whom smiles and caresses were heap'd,
'Till the burden of kindness seemed heavy to bear;
And the warm grateful heart in sincerity leaped,
And swore that 'twould never forget-such things were.

I have heard the professions of friendship the dearest,
While suspicion's sharp glance could not fancy a fear;
But the friendship I fancied the firmest, sincerest,

Has broke and I've blush'd, as I thought such things were. Philadelphia.

TIMID LOVE.

By Mrs. Grant.

O say not that Arthur will see me no more,
His kindness I merit, his anger deplore;

Though doubt made me silent, yet why should he fly,
Since the dawn of affection is timid and shy?

I've nourished the woodlark he brought from the nest,
The flowers he presented I placed in my breast;
When their beauty no longer delighted my eyes,
With their last dying odours I mingled my sighs.

Beneath yon steep cliff, where the strawberries grow,
Though the surf in rude tumults beats ever below;
By the dim light of morning, unseen, I repair,
To gather the fruit, that my Arthur may share.

Alone in the dusk of the evening I rove,
With my harp 1 resort to the depth of the grove ;
With secret delight, there I sin all his lays,
And practise the music made sweet by his praise.

O will he return, his loved haunts to retrace?
Will no rash resentment appear in his face?
No more like a blast will he rush through the door,
And wring my sad heart with reproaches no more!

THE BARD'S INCANTATION.

Written under the threat of invasion, in the autumn of 1804
By Walter Scott.

The forest of Glenmore is drear,

It is all of black pine, and the dark oak-tree;
And the midnight wind, to the mountain deer,
Is whistling the forest lullaby :-

The moon looks through the drifting storm,
But the troubled lake reflects not her form,
For the waves roll whitening to the land,
And dash against the shelvy strand.

There is a voice among the trees

That mingles with the groaning oak

That mingles with the stormy breeze,

And the lake-waves dashing against the rock ;-
There is a voice within the wood,

The voice of the Bard in fitful mood;

His song was louder than the blast,

As the Bard of Glenmore through the forest past.

"Wake ye from your sleep of death,
Minstrels and Bards of other days!
For the midnight wind is on the heath,
And the midnight meteors dimly blaze;
The Spectre with his bloody hand,'
Is wandering through the wild woodland;
The owl and the raven are mute for dread,
And the time is meet to awake the dead!

"Souls of the mighty! wake and say

To what high strains your harps were strung,
When Lochlin ploughed her billowy way,

And on your shores her Norsemen flung?
Her Norsemen, trained to spoil and blood,
Skilled to prepare the raven's food,
All by your harpings doom'd to die
On bloody Largs and Loncarty.†

"Mute are ye all? no murmurs strange
Upon the midnight breeze sail by;

Nor through the pines with whistling change,
Mimic the harp's wild harmony!

Mute are ye now ?--Ye ne'er were mute
When murder with his bloody foot,

And rapine with his iron hand,

Were hovering near your mountain strand.

The forest of Glenmore is haunted by a spirit called Lhamdearg, or Red-handl.

↑ Where the Norwegian invader of Scotland received two bloody defeats.

"O yet awake the strain to tell,
By every deed in song enroll'd,
By every chief who fought or fell,
For Albion's weal in battle bold;-
From Coilgach, first who roll'd his car,
Through the deep ranks of Roman war,
To him, of veteran memory dear,
Who victor died on Aboukir.

"By all their swords, by all their scars,
By all their names, a mighty spell!
By all their wounds, by all their wars,
Arise, the mighty strain to tell;
For fiercer than fieree Hengist's strain,
More impious than the heathen Dane,
More grasping than all grasping Rome,
Gaul's ravening legions hither come!"

The wind is hush'd and still the lake-
Strange murmurs fill my tingling ears,
Bristles my hair, my sinews quake,

At the dread voice of other years~~
"When targets clash'd, and bugles rung,
And blades round warriors' heads were flung,
The foremost of the band were we,

And hymn'd the joys of liberty!"

TO A LADY, ON THE DEATH OF HER SISTER.
By Rogers.

Ah! little thought she, when, with wild delight,
By many a torrent's shining track she flew,
When mountain glens, and caverns full of night,
O'er her young mind divine enchantment threw ;

That in her veins a secret horror slept,

That her light footsteps should be heard no more;
That she should die--nor watched, alas! nor wept
By thee, unconscious of the pangs she bore.

Yet round her couch indulgent fancy drew
The kindred forms her closing eyes required.

There didst thou stand-there, with the smile she knew,
She moved her lips to bless thee, and expired.

And now to thee she comes, still, still the same,
As in the hours gone unregarded by!

To thee how changed, comes, as she ever came,
Health on her cheek, and pleasure in her eye!

Nor less, less oft, as on that day appears,
When, lingering as prophetic of the truth,
By the way-side she shed her parting tears-
Forever lovely in the light of youth!

*The Galgacus of Tacitus.

Messrs. Eastburn, Kirk & Co., New-York, have received several sheets of a new wo vel in volumes by Madame D'Arblay, author of Evelina, Camilla, &c. It is entitled The Wanderer, or Female Difficulties; it will be put to press immediately.

The Bride of Abydos, a Turkish Tale, by Lord Byron, has been put to press by Moses Thomas, Philadelphia.

In the press and will be speedily published, The Commercial Code of France, together with the Motives, or discourses of the counsellors of state, illustrative of the various provisions of the Code, delivered before the legislative body.

The original French text of the code printed on one page with the English translation on the opposite side. Translated by John Rodman, Counsellor at Law, NewYork.

Preparing for the press, The true use of Poesy, a poem, by B. Allen, jun. of New-York. This poem contains a short review of the character and influence of some of the principal religious poets, as well as of several of the heathen poets of antiquity, and of the popular modern poets of Great Britain; with an exposition of a few of the proper subjects of poetical embellishment. The chief object of the work is to show that religion affords the most sublime and beautiful subjects for poetrysubjects that can never be exhausted, and which must always delight.

An historical, military and political account of the life of Field Marshal Prince Souvaroff, translated by a gentleman of Baltimore, (from a copy furnished by the Russian minister as the most authentic,) is published by Edward J. Coale, Bookseller, Baltimore, and by Eastburn, Kirk & Co. of New-York.-The same booksellers have likewise published Mademoiselle de la Fayette, an historical novel illustrating the manners and character of the court of Louis XIII. by Madame de Genlis, the first American edition, revised, with additional notes-They will in a few days likewise publish the narrative of the campaign of 1812, illustrated by large coloured military maps, and embellished with a likeness of Kutuzof, finely engraved by Edwin.

The fifth volume of Hall's Law Journal is in the press at Baltimore. To gratify those who do not subscribe to this work, Mr. Hall has ordered a few extra copies to be printed of one of the articles in this volume. This is "an answer to Mr. Jefferson's justification of his conduct in the case of the New Orleans Batture. By Edward Livingston." Mr. Jefferson's view of the subject will likewise be inserted in the volume, and both tracts will be illustrated by suitable charts.

SCIENTIFIC INTELLIGENCE.

From late British Publications.

FREEZING OF ALCOHOL.

A correspondent mentions that the process followed by Mr. Hutton to freeze alcohol, and which he thought proper to conceal, was as follows: The alcohol is put into a condensing vessel, and air condensed on it as far as can be done with safety.The vessel is then reduced to as low a temperature as possible by means of freezing mixtures, and the air being allowed suddenly to make its escape increases the cold so much that the desired effect is produced."

IMPERIAL INSTITUTE.

M. De Lamarck has published a new System of Natural History, and he explains in a way peculiar to himself, the classes, orders, and genera of animals; but as tra. vellers have since discovered many new species and genera; as anatomists have better developed their structure; and lastly, as the discrimination of M. de Lamarck has discovered several new relations between them, he has published an abridged syllabus of his course according to this perfected method, in which he contents himself with indicating the characters of the superior divisions, and merely gives the simple nominative enumeration of the genera.

He follows in point of arrangement, the order of the degrees of complication, commencing with the most simple animals. Supposing that those which have no nerves apparent, are moved only in virtue of their irritability, he denominates them apathic animals: he gives the name of sensible animals to others without vertebræ