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SHEPHERD.

“ Warrior, warrior, stay thine arm!

Sheathe, O sheathe thy frantic sword!”

• There is a tradition among the Swiss, that they are descended from the ancient Scandinavians; among whom, in a remote age, there arose so grievous a famine, that it was determined in the assembly of the nation, that every Lepth man and his family should quit their country, and seek a new possession. Six thousand, chosen by lot, thus ernigrated at once from the North. They prayed to God to conduct them to a land like their own, where they might dwell in freedom and quiet, finding food for their families, and pasture for their callle. God, says the tradi. tion, led them to a valley among the Alps, where they cleared away the forests, built the town of Switz, and afterwards peopled and cultivated the cantons of Uri and Onderwalden.

WANDERER. “ Ab! I rave-I faint-the charm

Flies, and memory is restored.

“ Yes, to agony restored

From the too transporting charm :Sleep for ever, O my sword ! Be thou wither'd, O mine arm !

з с 2

“ Switzerland is but a name:

“ Art thou a MOURNER ?-Hast thou know -Yet I feel, where'er I roam,

The joy of innocent delights, That my heart is still the same,

Endearing days for ever flown, Switzerland is still my home.”

And tranquil nights?

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HANNAH.

-There is a grief that cannot feel; It leaves a wound that will not heal;

-My heart grew cold,-it felt not theo: When shall it cease to feel again?

THE OCEAN.

WRITTEN AT SCARBOROUGH, IN THE SUMIES OF

1805.

Ar fond sixteen my roving heart
Was pierced by love's delightful dart:
Keen transport throbb'd through every vein,
-I never felt so sweet a pain !
Where circling woods embower'd the glade,
I met the dear romantic maid:
I stole her hand,-it shrunk,—but no;
I would not let my captive go.
With all the fervency of youth,
While passion told the tale of truth,
I mark'd my Hannah's downcast eye,
Twas kind, but beautifully shy.
Not with a warmer, purer ray,
The sun, enamour'd, woos young May;
Nor May, with softer maiden grace,
Turns from the sun her blushing face;
But, swifter than the frighted dove,
Fled the gay morning of my love;
Ah! that so bright a morn, so soon,
Should vanish in so dark a noon.

The angel of aMiction rose,
And in his grasp a thousand woes ;
He pour'd his vial on my head,
And all the heaven of rapture ied.
Yet, in the glory of my pride,
I stood, and all his wrath defied;
I stood, -though whirlwinds shook my brain,
And lightnings cleft my soul in twain.
I shunn'd my nymph; and knew not why
I durst not meet her gentle eye;
I shunn'd her--for I could not bear
To marry her to my despair.
Yet, sick at heart with hope delay'd,
Oft the dear image of that maid
Glanced, like the rainbow, o'er my mind,
And promised happiness behind.
The storm blew o’er, and in my breast
The halcyon peace rebuilt her nest:
The storm blew o'er, and clear and inild
The sea of youth and pleasure smiled.
'Twas on a merry morn of May,
To Hannah's cot I took my way:
My eager hopes were on the wing,
Like swallows sporting in the spring,
Then as I climb'd the mountains o'er,
I lived my wooing days once more ;
And fancy sketch'd my married lot,
My wife, my children, and my cot.
I saw the village steeple rise,
My soul sprang, sparkling, in my eyes ;
The rural bells rang sweet and clear,--
My fond heart listen’d in mine ear.
I reach'd the hamlet :-all was gay ;
I love a rustic holiday.
I met a wedding,-stepp'd aside ;
It pass'd—my Hannah was the bride.

All hail to the ruins,* the rocks and the shores!
Thou wide-rolling ocean, all hail !
Now brilliant with sunbeams, and dimpled with can,
Now dark with the fresh blowing gale,
While soft o'er thy bosom the cloud shadows sail,
And the silver-wing'd sea-fowl on high,
Like meteors bespangle the sky,
Or dive in the gulf, or triumphantly ride,
Like foam on the surges, the swans of the tide.
From the tumult and smoke of the city set free,
With eager and awful delight;
From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee;
I gaze,-and am changed at the sight;
For mine eye is illumined, my genius takes flight,
My soul, like the sun, with a glance
Embraces the boundless expanse,
And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll,
From the day-darting zone to the night-shadow

pole.
My spirit descends where the day-spring is dora,
Where the billows are rubies on fire,
And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morn
Are sweet as the phenix's pyre:
O regions of beauty, of love, and desire !
() gardens of Eden! in vain
Placed far on the fathomless main,
Where nature with innocence dwelt in her youth,
When pure was her heart, and unbroken her truth
But now the fair rivers of Paradise wind
Through countries and kingdoms o'erthrown;
Where the giant of tyranny crushes mankind,
Where he reigns,--and will soon reign alone;
For wide and more wide, o’er the sunbeaming zone
He stretches his hundred-fold arms,
Despoiling, destroying its charms;
Beneath his broad footstep the Ganges is dry,
And the mountains recoil from the flash of his eya
Thus the pestilent Upas, the demon of trees,
Its boughs o'er the wilderness spreads,
And with livid contagion polluting the breeze,
Its mildewing influence sheds :
The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds,
Are slain by its venomous breath,
That darkens the noonday with death,
And pale ghosts of travellers wander around,
While their mouldering skeletons whiten the

ground. Ah! why hath JEHOVAH, in forming the world, With the waters divided the land, His ramparts of rocks round the continent hurl', And cradled the deep in his hand, If man may transgress his eternal command,

Scarborough Castle.

sort;

And leap o'er the bounds of his birth,

But the cries of the fatherless mix with ber To ravage the uttermost earth,

praise, And violate nations and realms that should be And the tears of the widow are shed on her bays. Distinct as the billows, yet one as the sea ?

O Britain ! dear Britain ! the land of my birth: There are, gloomy ocean, a brotherless clan, O isle, most enchantingly fair ! Who traverse thy banishing waves,

Thon pearl of the ocean! thou gem of the earth! The poor disinherited outcasts of man,

O my mother! my mother! beware; Whom avarice coins into slaves.

For wealth is a phantom, and empire a snare; From the homes of their kindred, their forefathers' O let not thy birthright be sold graves,

For reprobate glory and gold : Love, friendship, and conjugal bliss,

Thy distant dominions like wild graftings shoot, They are dragg'd on the hoary abyss;

They weigh down thy trunk,- they will tear up Tbe shark hears their shrieks, and ascending to-day,

thy root:Demands of the spoiler his share of the prey. The root of thine OAK, O my country! that stands Then joy to the tempest that whelms them beneath, Its branches are stretch'd o'er the uttermost lands,

Rock-planted and flourishing free;
And makes their destruction its sport;
But wo to the winds that propitiously breathe,

And its shadow eclipses the sea :
And waft them in safety to port,

The blood of our ancestors nourish'd the tree; Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon re

From their tombs, from their ashes it sprung;

Its boughs with their trophies are hung; Wbere Europe exultingly drains

Their spirit dwells in it:-and, hark! for it spoke ; The life-blood from Africa's veins;

The voice of our fathers ascends from their oak: Where man rules o'er man with a merciless rod, “ Ye Britons, who dwell where we conquer'd of old, And spurns at his footstool the image of God. Who inherit our battle-field graves ;

Though poor were your fathers,-gigantic and bold, The hour is approaching—a terrible hour!

We were not, we could not be, slaves; And Vengeance is bending her bow;

But firm as our rocks, and as free as our waves, Already the clouds of the hurricane lower,

The spears of the Romans we broke,
And the rock-rending whirlwinds blow:
Baek rolls the huge ocean,

We never stoop'd under their yoke ;
hell

opens below: The floods return headlong,--they sweep

In the shipwreck of nations we stood up alone, The slave-cultured lands to the deep,

The world was great Cæsar's—but Britain our own. In a moment entomb'd in the horrible void,

and
ages,

with barbarous foes, By their Maker himself in his anger destroy'd. The Saxon, Norwegian, and Gaul,

We wrestled, were foil'd, were cast down, but we Shall this be the fate of the cane-planted isles, More lovely than clouds in the west,

With new vigour, new lise, from each fall: When the sun o'er the ocean descending in smiles, By all we were conquer'd—WE CONQUER’D THEM Sinks softly and sweetly to rest ? -No !-Father of mercy! befriend the opprest;

-The cruel, and cannibal mind, At the voice of thy gospel of peace

We soften'd, subdued, and refined ; May the sorrows of Africa cease ;

Bears, wolves, and sea-monsters, they rush'd from And slave and his master devoutly unite

their den ; To walk in thy freedom, and dwell in thy light !*

We taught them, we tamed them, we turn'd them As homeward my weary-wing'd fancy extends, Her star-lighted course through the skies,

« Love led the wild hordes in his flower-woven High over the mighty Atlantic ascends,

bands, And turns upon Europe her eyes :

The tenderest, strongest of chains ; Ah, me! what new prospects, new horrors arise ? Love married our hearts, he united our hands, I see the war-tempested food

And mingled the blood in our veins; All foaming, and panting with blood;

One race we became:-on the mountains and plains, The panic-struck ocean in agony roars,

Where the wounds of our country were closed, Rebounds from the battle, and flies to his shores. The ark of religion reposed,

The unquenchable altar of liberty blazed, For Britannia is wielding the trident to-day

And the temple of justice in mercy was raised. Consuming her foes in her ire, And hurling her thunder with absolute sway “Ark, altar, and temple, we left with our breath From her wave-ruling chariots of fire:

To our children, a sacred bequest; -She triumphs ;-the winds and the waters con- O guard them, o keep them, in life and in death! spire,

So the shades of your fathers shall rest, To spread her invincible name;

And your spirits with ours be in Paradise blest: -The universe rings with her fame;

--Let ambition, the sin of the brave,

And avarice, the soul of a slave, Alluding lo the glorious success of the Moravian mis. No longer seduce your affections to roam ajonaries among the Negroes in the West Indies.

From liberty, justice, religion, AT HOME."

6. For ages

rose

ALL.

to men.

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