Hung on one bough the old and youthful fig,
The golden orange glows beside the green;
And aye where sunniest stations intervene,
Creeps the curled vine luxuriant high o'erhead;
Here the sour grape just springs the flowers between,
Here yellowing, purpling, blushing ruby red,

Here black the clusters burst, and heavenly nectar shed.

The joyful birds sing sweet in the green bowers,
Murmur the winds, and in their fall and rise

Strike from the fruits, leaves, fountains, brooks and flowers,
A thousand strange celestial harmonies;

When cease the birds, the zephyr loud replies,
When sing the birds, it faints amidst the trees,
To whispers soft as lovers' farewell sighs;
Thus, whether loud or low, the bird the breeze,
The breeze obeys the bird, and each with each agrees.
One bird there flew, renowned above the rest,
With party-coloured plumes and purple bill,
That in a language like our own expressed
Her joys, but with such sweetness, sense and skill,
As did the hearer with amazement fill;

So far her fellows she outsang, that they
Worshipped the wonder; ev'ry one grew still
At her rich voice, and listened to the lay;

Dumb were the woods-the winds and whispers died away.
'Ah see,' thus she sang, 'the rose spread to the morning
Her red virgin leaves, the coy pride of all plants!
Yet half open, half shut midst the moss she was born in,
The less shews her beauty, the more she enchants;
Lo, soon after, her sweet naked bosom more cheaply
She shews! lo, soon after she sickens and fades,
Nor seems the same flower late desired so deeply
By thousands of lovers, and thousands of maids!

'So fleets with the day's passing footsteps of fleetness
The flower and the verdure of life's smiling scene,
Nor, though April returns with its sunshine and sweetness,
Again will it ever look blooming or green;

Then gather the rose in its fresh morning beauty,
The rose of a day too soon dimmed from above;
Whilst, beloved, we may love, let to love be our duty;
Now, now, whilst 'tis youth, pluck the roses of love!'

She ceased, and as approving all they heard,
That tender tune the choirs of birds renew;
The turtles billed, and ev'ry brute and bird
In happy pairs to unseen glooms withdrew.

It seemed that the hard oak, the grieving yew,
The chaste sad laurel, and the whole green grove,—

It seemed cach fruit that blushed, each bud that blew,
The earth, air, sea, and rosy heavens above,

All felt divine desire, and sighed out sweetest love.

The above particulars of the life of Mr. Wiffen have been principally selected from a Memoir in the Imperial Magazine for December 1824. The period is, we trust, far distant, when it would be proper to delineate his character, of which nothing more need now be said, than that it is as amiable in private, as it has been unblemished in his public life. Of his poetical talents the world will judge from the ample proofs of it before them. To his extraordinary application, the acquisition, without any assistance but what he derived from books, of the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese languages, besides some acquaintance with the German and the Welsh, bears a testimony the most honourable and decided.

Mr. Wiffen is unmarried, but his mother is still living near him, a widow, since the death of his father, which happened when he was very young; and to her early and judicious care, and to the guarded education which she procured for him, his filial affection very justly ascribes the seeds of whatever may be valuable in his character, or honourable and successful in his progress through life. He has also a brother and three sisters; one of whom is married to Alaric A. Watts, Esq. the author of 'Poetical Sketches, &c.' and editor of the Literary Souvenir.

We close this Memoir with 'L'ENVOI,' some tasteful stanzas of great beauty and feeling, forming the poetical wreath with which Mr. Wiffen has entwined the brows of his beloved Tasso. Fare thee well, soul of sweet Romance! farewell,

Harp of the South! the stirring of whose strings
Has given, by power of their melodious spell,
Such pleasant speed to Time's else weary wings,
That-rapt in spirit to the Delphic cell,

Midst its green laurels and prophetic springs,—
The tuneful labours of past years now seem
A brief indulgence-an enchanted dream.
My pride at noon, my vision of the night,
My hope at morn, my joy at lonely eve!

Now that thy tones of magical delight

Are o'er, do I not well to droop and grieve?
To what new region shall the Muse take flight,

What pictures fashion, what fresh numbers weave,
When all that else had charmed must now appear
Tame to the eye and tuneless to the ear?

Much shall I miss thee when, in calm repose,

The Summer moon upon my casement shines;
Much, when the' melancholy Autumn strows

With leaves my walk beneath the' o'erarching pines ;
Nor less when Spring, 'twixt shower and sunshine, throws
Abroad the sweet breath of her eglantines,

And Winter deepens with his stormy din
The quiet charm of the bright hearth within.

If with no vulgar aim, no selfish view,

I sought to give thy foreign chords a tongue,
Let not my hopes all pass like morning dew,

When on thy cypress bough again thou'rt hung1,
But sometimes whisper of me to the few

I love, the fond, the faithful and the young,

And those who reverence the wronged soul that planned
Thy world of sound with archangelic hand.

Hear how the strings, dear IDA, sound abroad
The grief and glory of that matchless mind!
What ardour glows in each seraphic chord;
How deep a passion echo leaves behind!
Yet was he wretched whom all tongues applaud,-
For peace he panted, for affection pined:
Be thou, whilst thy mild eyes with pity swim,
More kind to me than AURA was to him;-
Else shall I little prize the' indulgent praise
Which some may lavish on a task so long;
Else shall I mourn that e'er my early days

Were given to feeling, solitude, and song;
But thee no light capricious fancy sways,

To doubt thy truth would be the heavens to wrong;
Peace to thy spirit with the closing spell!
And thou, Hesperian Harp, farewell, farewell!

31.-SAINT SILVESTER.

Silvester was Bishop of Rome, succeeding Miltiades in 314. He died in 334. It is often said that he was one of the 318 bishops who attended at the council of Nice, A.D. 325, when the Nicene creed

1 Tu che ne vai in Pindo

Ivi pende mia cetra ad un cipresso,
Salutala in mio nome, e dille poi

Ch'io son dagl' anni e da fortuna oppresso.

Rime del Tasso.

was drawn up, and the long agitated controversy about the time of celebrating Easter was determined against the Asiatics; and that thus the Calendar is well terminated by the name of one who took a part in its arrangement on that celebrated occasion. But Socrates Scholasticus, in his history (Lib. i, cap. 5), assures us that Silvester, by reason of his great age, absented himself' from that council. When Constantine offered him a golden sceptre, he rendered himself worthy of real honour by refusing it as altogether incompatible with the sacred function. - Imperial Almanack.

It was formerly a custom at Merton College, Oxford, on the last night of the year, called Scrutiny night, for the college servants to make their appearance in a body in the hall, before the Warden and Fellows, after supper, and there to deliver up the keys; so that if they committed any crime, their keys were taken away, and they were dismissed. If there was no complaint against them, the keys were redelivered to them.-Pointer's Oxon. Acad. p. 24.

This is the last day of the year, and let each of us on this day resolve, like the Chinese sage, in future, to keep a regular account with himself of the acts of every day, and at the close of the year wind up the account, leaving the balance, if in his favour, as the foundation of a stock of merit for the ensuing year; and if against him, to be liquidated by future acts of goodness.

Every night (says the author of Merits and Errors Scrutinized') examine yourself, and put the result on record; at the end of the year, sum up the whole. If a man keep no record of his merits, he will have nothing by which to disperse and balance his errors. When he has errors, he must not boast; when he has merits, he need not be humble. Such is the recommendation of a Pagan writer, which is, in some respects, worthy of Christian imitation; we must not,

Dd

however, think too favourably of the Chinese System of Morals, which is founded on no acknowledged relations between the creature and the Creator, and recognizes no future state of existence. It is enlarged or contracted; grows aged, or renews its youth; is strict or lax, according to times, places, and persons: how unlike the word of the Lord, which endureth for ever! How different from that law of the Lord, which is perfect, converting the soul;' those statutes which are right, 'rejoicing the heart;' and those commandments of the Lord which are pure, 'enlightening the eyes.'-What a field is thus presented to the zeal, the prudence, and the benevolence of the disciples of a purer faith! and, ultimately, what a triumph for the glorious doctrines of the Cross!-See a well written and ingenious Essay on the Nature and Structure of the Chinese Language, by Thomas Myers, cited in pp. 153, 154, of this volume.

Astronomical Occurrences

In DECEMBER 1826.

The MORNING STAR.

From chambers brighter than the day,
Star of the morning, thou art come
To gild with glory's op'ning ray

The front of heav'n's imperial dome.

Thou break'st upon the dazzled view
In all the eastern splendour bright:
Thy beaming locks are bathed in dew,
Thy skirts are dipped in orient light.

SOLAR PHENOMENA.

CAREY.

THE Sun enters Capricorn at 43 m. after 7 in the morning of the 22d of this month; and he rises and sets during the same period as follows.