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POETRY.

From the London Monthly Magazines.

We are indebted for the annexed Verses to the kiod.

ness of Mr. Crabbe, who has at our earnest request not only allowed us this gratification, but promised to communicate, at future periods, any of the shorter productions of his powerful pen, which may suit our miscellany. While we acknowledge this mark of one excellent Poet's approval of our publication, it gives us pleasure to add, both for our own sakes and our readers', that we are assured of similar treasures from the portfolios of sever. al of the most distinguished Bards of the Age.

Refus'd; towards re-t his steps he bent

With tearful eye, and aching heart: But claim'd his playthings ere he went, And took up staus his horse and cart.

3. For new delay, though oft deny'd,

He pleaded ;---wildly crav'd the boon;.Tho' past his usual huur, he cried

At being sent away so soon.
If stern to him, his grief I shar'd;

(Unmov'd who hears his offspring weep ?) Of soothing him I half despair'd;

When all his cares are lost in sleep.

VERSES, BY TAE REV. G. CRABBE; Written on the night of the 15th of April, 17**,

immediately before the perusal of a Letter then received

ITIHROUGH many a year the Merchant

views
With steady eye his distant gains ;
Right on, his object he pursues,

And what he seeks in time obtains.
So he some distant prospect secs

Who gazes on a patron's smile,
And if lie finds it bard to please,

That pleasant view bis cares beguile.
Not such my fate---what years disclose

And piece-meal on such minds bestow;
The lively joys, the grievons woes!

Shall this tremendous instant show;
Concentered hopes and fears I feel,

As on the verge of fate I stand :
lo sight of fortune's rapid wheel,

And with the ticket in my hand.
No intermediate good can rise,

And feeble compensation make ;
'Tis one dread blank or one rich prize,

And life's grand hope is now at stake;
Where all is lost, or all is won,

That can distress, that can delight---
Oh ! how will rise to-morrow's sun
On him who draws his fate to-night!---

Literary Gazette.

“ Alas! poor infant!" I exclaim'd,

" Thy father blushes now to scan, In all which he so lately blam’d,

The follies and the fears of man. The vain regret, the anguish brief,

Which thou hast known, sent up to bed, Pourtrays of man tbe idle grief," When doom'd to slumber with the dead."

5. And more I thought---when up the stairs

With“ longing ling'ring looks” he crept, To mark of man, the childish cares,

His play things carefully he hept. Thus morials on life's later stare,

When oature claims their forfeit breath, Still grasp at wealth, in pain and age, And cling to golden toys in death.

6.
"Tis morn! and see my smiling boy

Awakes to hail returning light;
To fearless laughter! boundless joy!

Forgot the tears of yesternight!
Thus shall not man forget his woe?

Survive of age, and death the gloom? Smile at the cares he knew below?

And reuovated burst the tomb ?

O, my Creator ! when thy will

Shail stretch this frame on earth's cold bed, Let that blest hope sustain me still,

Till thought,seuse, mem'ry-allare fled. And grateful for wbat thou may'st give,

No tear shall dim my fading eye, That 'twas thy pleasure I should live--

That'tis thy mandate bids me die.

From the same.

* INFANCY AND MATURE AGE.

AN APOLOGUE. [Men are but Children of a larger growth.)

THE BACCHANALIAN TO SLEEP.
CLEEP, wbile I owo thy ponderous sway,

I do not live ; my time is sunk :
Take then the debt l’n forc'd to pay,

But take it after I am drunk.*

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WAS eight o'clock, and near the fire I My ruddy little boy was seated, And with the titles of a sire

My ears expected to be greeted-
But vain the thought !---by sleep oppress'd,

No father there the child descry'd;
His head reclip'd upon his breast
Or nodding rollid from side to side.

2.
“Let this young rogue be sent to bed".--

More I had not time to say,
When the poor urchin rais'd his head

To beg that he might longer stay.

* How different is the anecdote of the Empress Maria Theresa ! A short time before this great Princess drew her last breath, she lay in a kind of lethargy, with her eyes closed; and one of the ladies, her attendants, being questioned respecting the health of her imperial mistress, answered, “Her Majesty appears to be asleep.” “No,' said the Em press, I could go to sleep if I would, but I feel my last lour approach, and it shall not overtake me in my sleep.'

VOL. 4.]

Original Poetry.

167

P.

Son,

Softly approach, like evening's shade ; 0! 'tis Maria's self---her smile---
Fly quickly, like a parting breath;

Her genile voice---it cannot be !
For life too short for wine was made,

A phantom lures me all the while--To waste with thee,--- Image of Death. No---no---her accents call on me!

Ewix.

I come! O “ dearer to my heart"

Than all the treasures worlds contain--From the Gentleman's Magazine.

Nor Death shall dear Maria part SONNET TO THE RIVER THAMES. From these paternal arms again !*

* Maria, daughter of the Rev. Jer. Trist, By LORD Thurlow.

of Behan Park, Dear Tregony; a most M HAMES, king of Rivers, Ocean's eldest amiable and accomplished young lady. Majestic husband of that learned stream, Which every wortby poet makes his theme,

ON VIEWING THE DEAD BODY OF A BEAU.
And does by Oxford, softly-pacing, run,
Isis, thy laughing mate ; the genial sun

TIFUL INFANT.
Illumes thy water with a temperate beam;
And, though with paved gold thou dost not

Nastentes morimur finisque
gleam,

Ab origine pendet. —Horace.
Yet greater praises by thy wave are won :
Thou, more than Tiber, wear'st a thicker

INHERE is a smile upon that cheek--crown

Those lips would seem almost to Of verdant laurel, and of watery sedge ;

speak; And, more than Rome, the world-defending

Calm is that look, that brow is fair,
Town,

The flaxen ringlet wantops there!
Augusta*, smiles upon thy sacred edge;

And well those features sweet we trace, Deep as thy water, Thames, is thy renown,

Which hover on that angel face;
Of which this verse shall be another pledge. He seems enwrapt in slumber deep---
July, 1818.

Ah, Edwin ! 'tis thy loog, last sleep! * An antient name of London.

The chill of death is on that cheek---
Those lips shall never silence break!

No soul is in that cherub sinile,
From the same.

Illusive charm, and lovely guile!

The eye has shof its fipal spark, 1 Father's Adieu to his Daughter MARIA

The liquid, limous orh---is dark !
April 23, 1818.

And swift mu very feature fy
- paternos

Froin the softce of infancy. Eja ! age in amplexus cara Maria ! tedi.

And now---the kiss of agony,

Bishop Lozoth. “ Whose touch thrills with mortality,“ A H, dearer to a Father's heart,

The Parents give--but who shall tell A Than all the gifts the world can give

The anguish of that fond farewell ! Ab! dear Maria ! we must part,

Yet from the grave's mysterious vight

That form again shall spring to light ! And yet on earth tby Parent live ?

E'en now in yon eternal rest, To thee, to every duty true,

The uneartbly mansion of the blest, To every Christian Virtue dear,

The uncloath'd spirit joins the hymn How shall I bid the last adieu,

Swelling from burning seraphim. And hovering, trembling, linger here? And were our passport to the skies O ! through the kindling bloom of youth

As his--then speed each hour that flies, If angel-graces ever shone--

And earth, let each successive sun

"Swift rise---swiftset---be bright and done.' Ingenuous Candour, simple Truth--

N. . . Heaven-born, I bail'd ibem all thipe own! Plymouth Dock.

Literary Gazelle Farewell, my Love ! again farewell!

My fainting tongue would utter more--But, as Affection fain would tell

* LINES What Memory sickeas to explore ;

ON HEARING THE CHURCH BELLS. A Scepes of thy infant years arise To bring back all my fondest care :

A GLOOM will o'er my senses steal And I would grasp at fleeted joys,

A Oft as I hear yon distant peal; A moment sunkip dark despair.

It strikes upon my sadden'd heart,

Recais evento long pass'd--- Dear friends Yes---but a moment !---Cannot Faith

depart.

2 The heart-pang soften to a sigh ;

In early daysdiwlen fancy charm’d, And gild, amidst the shades of Death,

When youtli's gay dream my bosomwarın'd, The gushing tear, the clouded eye?

Joyous, each sound fell on my ear, And is it not a light illumes..

Sorrow ne'er sought to mi: gle there. Lo gleam on gleam---my drcary hour :

A warning voice, I hear thee now, I see, descending through the groom,

Soon, sad will be thy fall, and low; The radiance of no eartbly Bower.

Soon to the husy throng thou'lt tell

Of ber who bade this world farewell! And hark---a Spirit seems to say--

Her wither'd hopes sad thoughts recal, Beckoning she waves ber lily hand--- For her no kindred tear will rall, « Come--come, my Father! come away! Ingratitude has bari'd the dart

And mingle with our Serapla band !" Which pierc'd a trusting feeling heart

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Yet One, perhaps, whose soothing power From the Literary Gazette, Aug. 1818.
Sustaiu'd her in adiction's hour,
May hover near her humble bier,

THE PARTING.
And to ber memory drop a tear.

CAROLINE G STIHE wind was wild, the sea was dark,

I The lightniog flash'd above ; the bark

Tbat anchor'd in the rocky bay
THE SIBYL.

Bath'd its top pennon in the spray.
A Sketch.

Hollow and gloomy as the grave go stood the Siby! :---stream'd her hoary

Roll'd to the shore the mighty wave, bair

" Then gathering wild, with thundering sweep, Wild to the blast, and with a comet's glare

Flash'd its white foam-sheet up the steep. Glow'd her red eye-balls midst the sunken Sh

The sight was terror---but behind gloom

Shouts of pursuit were on the wind ;

(tomb ;--of their wide orbs, like death-tires in a

Trumpet and yell, and clash of shield Slow. Jike the rising storm, in fitful moads,

4 Told where the human hunters wheel'd Broke from her breast the deep prophetic Where. Bertba, was thy courage then ?

Thro' tbe last valley's forest glen. tooes--Anon with whirlwind rush the Spirit came;

She cheer'd her warrior, tho' his side Then in dire splendour, like imprison'd flame i

i Still with the gushing blood was dyed, Flashing through rifted domes on towns

Up the rude inountain-path her hand amazed,

(rais’d,

Sustain'd his arm, and dragged his brand, Her voice in thunder burst, her arins she

': Nor shrank nor sighed ; and when bis tread Outstretched her hands, as with a fury's

Paused on the promontory's head, force

$ She smiled, altho' her lip was pale

[curse, To grasp, and launch the slow-descending

As the toru silver of his mail.
Still as she spoke her stature seem'd to grow,
Still she denounced unmitigable woe :

grow, All there was still---the shouts had past, Pain, want, and madness, pestilence and

Sunk in the rushings of the blast; death,

Below, the vapour's dark grey screen Rode forth triomphant at her blasting breath;

Shut out from view the long ravive, Their march she marshall’d, taught their ire

Then swept the circle of the hill, to fall,

Like billows round an Ocean isle. And seem'd herself the emblem of them all.

The ray the parting sunbeam flung,
Aug. 1818.

In white, cold radiance on them hung;
VIDEO.

• Toey stood upon that lonely brow

Like Spirits loosed from human woe, THE CANAL AND THE BROOK. And pay-ing, ere they thread the plume

Above that waste of storin and gloom. [By the author of " Legends of Lampidosa," &c.] To linger there was death, but there

TVE proud Canal, serene and deep, Was that which masters death, Despair--

1 Beneath it saw the streamlet creep- And even Despair's high master, Love. Haste, babbler! baste thee on !” it cried, Her heart was like her form, above - Thou emblem of man's shallow pride ! The storms, the stormier thoughts that Earth Go, steal thy winding way along,

Makes the dread privilege of our birth. With gilded pebbles make thy song,

Passion's wild dame was past, but he Refresh thy sun-burn'd shepherd's flock, Who pined before her burning eye, Or tinkle thro' the thirsty rock;

The numbered beatings of whose heart Feed if thou caust the humble flow'r,

Told, on that summit, they must part.. Companion of thy little hour,

Hle was life, soul, and world to her ; Then slumber in forgotten earth,

Beside him, what had she to fear? Hid by the clay that gave thee birth.” Life had for ber nor calm nor storm Submissive paus'd the tuneful Brook,

While she stood gazing on that forin, Then whisper'd thus its meek rebuke. And clasped his hand, tho' lost and love, “ Unseen | wind iny quiet way,

Hirdying hand, but all her own. Unbeard 'midist hooied wild flow'rs play ; She knelt beside him, on her knee My music so thes the lonely ear,

She raised his wan cheek silently : My gifts the cottage-banquet cheer:

She spoke not, sighed not; to his breast, But though in dim inglorious gloom

Her own, scarce living now, was preat,
I wander now, the hour shall come,

And relt, ---if where the senses reel,
When thro'a channel broad and bright O'er wrought---o'er flooded---we can feel
My peaceful stream shall burst to light, The thoughts, that when they cease to be
And mingle with the boundless sea

Leave life one vacant misery---
Of Life and Joy's Eternity !-----

She kiss'd his chilling lip, and bore
Such is my doom--and what is thine,

The look that told her all was o'er.
Colossal work of Art divine !
Condemn'd the gauily freights to bear The echoes of pursuit again
Of shallow pomp and sordid care,

Rolled on---she gazed upon the main,
While iron bondage quells thy force,

Then seem'd the mountain's hanghty steep And slaves like thee direct thy course !

Too humble for her desperate leap,
Go, share the doom of feeble man,

Then seem'd the broad and bursting wave
Whose power thy mimic reign began--- Too calı, too shallow, for her grave.
The traveller shall return, and see

She turned her to the dead his brow
An emblem of his pride in thee :

Once more she gave her kiss of woe ; Thy giant arches shall decay,

She gave his cheek one bitter tear, Thy borrow'a flood shall pass away,

The last she had for passion here---
While to free Ocean's breast is given

Then to the steep!--away, away !
Tbe semblance and the light of Heaven ! To the whirlwind's roar and the dash of the
July 1818.

V.

spray.

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IN TWO LETTERS FROM A HAMBURGA GENTLEMAN TO HIS FRIEND IN THAT CITY.

Letter II. THE environs of Mexico gain much great quantities, so that at every step

by this high region of ice and snow, we slipped backwards. This very and afford a most beautiful, as it is in troublesome and tedious walk damped its kind, a very singular prospect. The our hopes of success, though we very city and adjoining district not only en- soon came to places, where the temjoy a very great advantage above the pests had carried away the fine sand, other parts of this country, from the ice and left behind the coarse only, so that which is to be had at all times of the we could tread firmer, and found great year, but are chiefly indebted for a mild relief from the change, which continued climate to this frozen region, which still farther up, where the steep surface cools and tempers the atmosphere of was covered with pieces of pumice stone, Mexico. Inconsiderable as the dis- so that our steps did not sink in at all. tance of the Glaciers seems when ob- In this manner we continued our jourserved from Mexico, it took me more ney for a considerable time, and arrived thao a day to reach on horseback a lit- at an unavoidable and very dangerous de plain, where I erected a tent, and place, where we had to walk over large made all the preparations for ascending pieces of rock, which lay loose in the the Popocatepetl the next day. I found sand, and detached by our weight, the whole south side of the Pico free rolled down, bearing other fragments from ice, but on the north it reached far in their course. Our peril was imaidown. After a very disagreeable night, nent, and could only be averted by during which, in spite of every precau- getting quickly out of the way of the tion, I could not sleep for the frost and pieces of rock as they descended. The cold, I set out before day-break on my most dangerous and troublesome part of journey, and took only one companion our journey was however already acwith me, leaving the rest of my people complished, and the highest part of the to watch my tent, horses, and mules. Popocatepetl seemed to lie within our The begioning of our ascent was not reach, when we were suddenly forced very steep, but very fatiguing, from our to return to the place whence we set out feet always sinking in the soft sand at day-break. which the volcano had thrown out in For some time there had appeared in

X ATHEN EUM. VO. 4.

the atmosphere the well-known phe- following day, but the next morning, at nomenon of the White Vapour, which day-break, the whole Pico was covered deprives the inhabitants of Mexico of with snow, and as it still continued to the beautiful prospect of Popocatepetl; snow on the third day, I struck my only, as I advanced nearer, it was again tent, and returned to Mexico. visible, and accompanied with the re- A short time after this journey I markable circumstance, that the vapours visited the eastern group of mountains, and the summit of the volcano formed which is covered far and wide with snow a plain, upon which, from the place and ice. As this way is much shorter where I stood, though at a great dis- and more convenient than that to tance, the smallest cloud of the multitude Popocatepetl, I thought I should be which floated on the upper surface of able to accomplish the whole (setting this strange aërial sea, but did not sink out from the nearest place,) in one day; down any lower, was perceptible. The but here, too, unexpected obstacles oclittle clouds which were very distant in curred, which obliged me to seek a reopposite directions, on the east and treat for the night in a rocky cave, surwest, advanced from both sides, though rounded with a thick wood. At daythere was not a breath of wind, to the break I scrambled up to a rather sloping summit of the volcano. Their course frozen plain, where I found forty Mexwas slow, but they at last reached the icans employed in breaking pieces of Pico; and now presented a scene ud- ice, each about a hundred weight : paralleled in its kind. There arose a these were laden upon asses, and carried real battle between the clouds, which to Mexico, to be deposited in the recame from the east and west, to the top servoirs, where, of course, much less of the volcano, and which arriving at arrives than is loaded upon the mounthe summit of the Pico did not mix for tains, because the ice thaws the whole a long time, but offered the extraordinary way, notwithstanding the precaution appearance, as if they wanted to drive which is observed to convey it over the their opponents from the space ; for warm plains only by night. sometimes they rose over each other, In New Spain there are many high then crossways through each other, till mountains, which retain the fallen snow at last, in masses continually increasing, for some days, weeks, or inonths; from they united and sent forth repeated claps which also ice or snow is collected and of thunder and flashes of lightning. I preserved in ice-cellars for domestic use. stood, as it were rooted to the spot, One of these, a very remarkable moungazing with admiration and delight on tain, which I have also visited, is the this sublime phenomenon, but as the Volcano of Colima, where ice and snow masses of clouds became larger and are generally found for nine months thicker, so that they wholly enveloped together. me and my companion, and the thunder However grateful the inhabitants of and lightning increased, I thought it New Spain are for the ice which Proviadvisable not to remain any longer. At dence so kindly gives them; the inhabifirst I was obliged to pick my way back tants of the North of Germany must be through the loose pieces of rocks with equally thankful that they have not such great caution ; but as soon as I reached a Popocatepetl or Pico of Orizaba. the sand, I made great leaps, Aying Had they such a mountain, the mass of sometimes with a whole bed of sand ice would descend much lower than in a long way down, and in this manner Mexico. You, my friends, would be descended, in a few moments, the Pico, obliged to go clad in furs in the middle which it had cost me so much trouble of summer; your fruits would seldom to mount. My safe arrival at the or never ripen, and in the pavilion upon bottom gave great joy to my people, your beautiful Jungfernstieg (ladies whom I had left behind, and who had walk) in Hamburg, nobody would ever been greatly alarmed for my safety think of calling for ice creams. during the thunder-storm. I intended I remain your's, &c. to ascend the volcano again on the

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