but love lim. ile is one wliom many wrongs

The balm of resignation, and inspires Have sicken'd of the world. There was a time

Will heavenly hope. Even as a child delights When he would weep to hear of wickedness,

To visit day by day the favourite plant And wonder at the tale; when for the opprest

llis hand has sown, to mark iis gradual growth, He felt a brother's pity, to the oppressor

And watch all-anxious for the proinised lower ; A good man's honest anger.

His quick eye

Thus to the blessed spirit in innocence Petray'il each rising feeling, every thou;ht


pure affections like a little child, Leapt to his congue. When first among mankind Sweet will it be to lover o'er the friends lle iningled, by himself he judged of them,

Beloved; then sweetest, if, as Duty prompts, And loved and trusted them, to Wisdom deaf,

With earthly care we in their breasts have sown And took them to his bosom, FALSENOOD met

The seeds of Truth and Virtue, holy llowers, Her unsuspecting victim, fair of front,

Whose odour reaclieclı lieaven. And lovely as Apega's ' sculptured form,

When my sick leart Like that false image caught bis warm embrace, (Sick with hope long delay'd,' than which no care Aud gored bis open breast. The reptile race

Weigles on the spirit licavier,) from itself Clung round his bosom, and with viper folds

Sceks the best comfort, ofteu have I deemd Encircling, stung; the fool who foster'd them.

That thou didst witness every inmost thought, His mother was SIMPLICITY, his sire

SEWARD! my dear, dead friend! For not iu vain, BENEVOLENCE; in earlier days lie bore

O carly summond on thy leavenly course! llis father's name; the world who injured him

Wastlıy brief sojourn liere : me didst thou leave
Call bim MISANTHROPY. I may not chuse

With strengthen'd step to follow the right path..
But love him, Household Gods! for we were nurst Till we shall meet again. Meantime I sooihe
In the same school.

The deep regret of nature, with belief,
PENATES! some there are

O EDMUND! that thine eye's celestial key

say, that not in the inmost beaveo ye dwell, Pervades me now, marking with no mean joy Gazing will eye remote on all the ways

The movements of the leart that loved thee well!
Of man, his GUARDIAN Gods; wiselier they dcem
A dearer interest to the human race

Such feelings Nature prompis, and hence your rites, Links you, yourselves the Spirits of the Dead.

Do AESTIC Gods! arose.

Wien for his son No mortal eye may pierce the invisible world,

With ceaseless grief Syroplancs bewail'd,
No light of human reason penetrate

Mourning luis açcleft childless, and his wealth
The depth where Truth lies hid. Yet to this faith Ileapt for an alien, he will obstinate eye
My lieart witli instant sympathy assents,

Still on the imaged marble of the dead
And I would judge all systems and all faiths

Dwelt, pampering sorrow. Thither from his wrath, By that best touchistone, from whose test Deceit A safe asylum, fled the offending slave, Shirinks like the Arch-fiend at Ithuriel's spcar,

And garlanded the statue, and implored And Sophistry's gay glittering bubb!c hursts,

llis young lost lord to save: Remembrance then As at the spousals of the Nereid's son,

Soften' the father, and he loved to see Wlien that false Florimel, 2 by her prototype

The votive wreuth renew'il, and the rich smoke Display'd iu rivalry, with all lier charms

Curl from the costly censer slow and sweet.
Dissolved away

From Egypt coon the sorrow-soothing rites
Nor can the balls of Heaven

Divulging spread; before your idol forins 2
Give to the human soul such kindred joy,

By every liearth the blinded Payan koelt;
As hovering o'er its eartlıly haunts it feels,

Pouring his prayers to these, and offering there
When with the breeze it wantons round the brow Vain sacrifice or impious, and sometimes
Of one beloved on cartb; or wlien at night

With human blood your sanctuary deliled :
In dreams it comes, and brings with it the DAYS Till the first Brutus, tyrant-conquering chief,
And Joys that are no more. Or wlien, perchance Arose; hic first the impious rites put down,
With power permitted to alleviate il

Ile lilliest, wlio for Freedom lived and died, And fil the sufferer for the coming woe,

The friend of humankind. Thieu did your feasts Some strange presage the Spirit breathes, and fills Frequent recur and blameless; and when came The breast with ominous fear, and disciplines

The solemn festival, 3 whose happiest rites For sorrow, pours into the aftlicted heart

Emblem EQUALITY, the holiest truth!

Crown'd with gay garlands were your statues seen, One of the ways and means of the tyrant Nabis. If one of his To you the fragrant censer smoked, to you subjects refused to lend him money, hs commanded bim to em

The rich libution flowd: vain sacrifice ! brace his Apego; the statue of a beautiful Woman so furiod as to clasp the victim to her breast, in which a pointed dagger was con

For not the poppy wreath nor fruits nor wine cealed.

Ye ask, PENATES! nor the altar cleanscd 2 Tben did be set her by that snowy one, Like the true saint beside the image set,

Hopo d forred maketh the beart sick.- Proverbs.
or both their beautles to make paragone
And trial whether should the honour get;

Qua non gravior mortalibus addita cura,
Streightway so soone as borbi topuher met,

Sres ubi longa venit.

STATIUS. The enchaunted damsell vanish'd into nouzbt; Her snowy substance meltou as with beat;

: It is not certainly known under what fo:m the Penates were Ne of that goodly liew remayned ought

worshiped. Som assert, as wooden or brazen rods shaped like But the empty girdle which about ber wast was wroazhi. Trumpets; others, that they were represented as young meo.


* The Saturnalia.

With many a mystic form; ye ask the heart

pure, and by domestic Peace and Love Hallow'd to you.

Hearken your hymn of praise, PENATES! to your shrines I come for rest, There only to be found. Often at cve, Amid my wanderings I have seen far off The lonely light that spake of comfort there; It told my heart of many a joy of home, And my poor heart was sad. When I have gazed From some bigh eminence on goodly vales And cots and villages embower'd below, The thought would rise that all to me was strange Amid the scene so fair, nor one small spot Where my tired mind might rest, and call it home. There is a magic in that little word : It is a mystic circle that surrounds Comforts and virtues never known beyond The hallowed limit. Often has my heart Ached for that quiet liaven !-haven'd now, I think of those in this world's wilderness Who wander on and find no home of rest Till to the grave ibey go! them Poverty, Hollow-eyed fiend, the child of Wealth and Power, Bad offspring of worse parents, aye afflicts, Cankering with her soul mildews the child heart;Them Want with scorpion scourge drives to the den Of Guilt;-them SLAUGHTER for the price of death Throws to her raven brood. Oh, not on them, GOD OF ETERNAL JUSTICE! not on them Let fall thy thunder!

llousehold Detjes! Then only shall be lappiness on earth When an shall feel your sacred power, and love Your tranquil joys; then shall the city stand A buge void sepulclire, and rising fair Amid the ruins of the palace pile The olive grow, there shall the Tree of Peace Strike its roots deep and flourish. This the state Shall bless the race redeemd of Man, when WEALTH And Power and all their hideous progeny Shall sink annihilate, and all mankind Live in the equal brotherhood of love. llcari-calming hope, and sure! for hitherward Tend all the tumults of the troubled world, Its woes, its wisdom, and its wickelness Alike : so lle hath will'd, whose will is just.

The good old term appears. Ol! it looks ill
When delicate tongues disclaim old terms of kin,
Sir-ing and Madam-ing as civilly
As if the road between the heart and lips
Were such a weary and Laplandish way,
That the poor travellers came to the red gates
Half frozen. Trust me, Cousin Margaret,
For many a day my Memory liath play'd
The creditor with me on your account,
And made me shame to think that I should owe
So long the debt of kindness. But in truth,
Like Christian on his pilgrimage, I bear
So heavy a pack of business, that albeit
I toil on mainly, in our twelve hours' race
Time leaves me distanced. Loth indeed were I
That for a moment you should lay to me
Unkind neglect; mine, Margaret, is a beart
That smokes not, yet methinks there should be some
Who know how warm it beats. I am not one
Who can play off my smiles and courtesies
To every Lady of her lap-dog tired
Who wants a play-thing; I am no sworo friend
Of half-ap-hour, as apı to leave as love;
Mine are no mushroom feelings, which spring up
At once without a seed and take no root,
Wiseliest distrusted. In a narrow sphere,
The little circle of domestic life,
I would be known and loved : the world beyond
Is not for me. Cut, Margaret, sure I think
That you should know me well, for you and I
Grew up together, and when we look back
Upon old tiines, our recollections paint
The same familiar faces. Did I wield
The wand of Merlin's magic, I would make
Brave witcheraft. We would have a facry ship,
Aye, a new Ark, as in that other flood
Wich cleansed the sons of Anak from the earth ;
The Sylphis should waft us to some goodly isle
Like that where whilom old Appollidon
Built up his blueless spell; and I would bid
The Sca-Nymplis pile around their coral bowers,
That we miglit stand upon the beach, and mark
The far-off breakers shower their silver spray,
And hear the eternal roar, wliose pleasant sound
Told us that never mariner should reach
Our quiet coast. In such a blessed isle
We mighe renew the days of infancy,
And Life like a long childhood pass away,
Without one care. It may be, Margaret,
That I shall yet be gather'd to my friends;
For I am got of those who live estranged
Of choice, till at the last they join their race
In the family-vaui. If so, if I should lose,
Like my old friend the Pilgrim, this huge pack
So beavy on my shoulders, I and mine
Right pleasantly will end our pilgrimage.
If not, if I should never get beyond
This Vanity town, there is another world
Where friends will meet. And often, Margaret,
1 gaze at night into the boundless sky,
And think that I shall there be born again,
The exalted native of some better star;
And, like the rude American, I hope
To find in Heaven the things I loved on earth.

Meantime, all hoping and expecting all
In patient faith, to you, Domestic Gods!.
I come, studious of other lore than song,
Of my past years the solace and support :
Yet shall my Heart remember the past years
With honest pride, trusting that not in vain
Lives the pure song of Liberty and Truth.




MARGARET! my cousin,-nay, you must not smile;
I love the homely and familiar phrase:
And I will call thee Cousin Margaret,
llowever quaint amid the measured line



A DELICATE pinch! oh low it tingles up
The utillatcd nose! and fills the eyes
And lyreast, till in one comfortable snecze
The full collected pleasure bursts at last!
Most rare Columbus! thou shalt be for this
The only Christoplier in my kalendar.
Why but for thice the uses of the Nose
Were half unknown, and its capacity
Of joy. The summer gale that from the heath,
At midnoon glittering with the golden gorse,
Bears its balsamic odour, but provokes
Not satisfies the sense; and all the tlowers,
That with their unsubstantial fragrance tempt
And disappoint, bloom for so short a space,
That half the year the Nostrils would keep Lent,
But that the kind Tobacconist admits
No winter in his work; when Nature sleeps
His wheels roll on, and still administer
A plenitude of joy, a tangible smell.

Along a road whose wliitc intensity
Would now make platina uncongealable
Like quicksilver.

Were it midnight, I should walk
Self-lanılorn'd, saturate with supbeams. Jove!
O gentle Jove! lave mercy, and once more
kick that obdurate Phæbus out of heaven!
Give loreas the wind-cholic, till be roar
For cardamum, and drink down peppermint,
Making: what's left as precious as Tokay.
Send Mercury, to salivate the sky
Till it dissolve in raju. O gentle Jove!
But some such litele kindness to a wretch
Who fecis his marrow spoiling his best coat, -
Wlio swells will caloric as if a Prester
Had leaven'd every limb with poison-yeast ;-
Lend me dine eagle just to flap Jiis winys,
And fan me, and I will build temples to thee,
And turn true Pagan.

Not a cloud nor brecze, () you most licathen Deities! if ever My boncs reach home (for, for de flesh upon them, It hath resolved itself into a dew,) I shall bave learnt owl-wisdom. Thou vile Plæbus, Set me a Persian sun-idolater Upon this turnpike road, and I'll convert him With no inquisitorial argument But ty own fires. Now woe be to me wretch, That I was in a hicretic country born! Else miglat some mass for the poor souls that lilcaclı, And burn away the calx of their offences lu thai great Purgatory crucible, lielp me. O Jupiter! my poor complexion! I am niade a copper-indian of already; And if no kindly cloud will parasol mc, My very cellular membrane will be changed, I shall be negrolied.

A brook! a brook! Oh what a sweet cool sound!

*T is very nectar! It runs like life through every strengthen'd limb! Nymph of the stream; now take a grateful prayer.

What is Peru and those Golcondan mines
To thee, Virginia? miserable realms,
They furnish gold for knaves and gems for fools;
But thuine are common comforts !-- To omit
Pipe-panegyric and tobacco-praise,
Think what the general joy the snuff-box gives,
Europe, aud far above Pizarro's name
Write Raleigh in thy records of renown!
Wim let the school-boy bless if he behold
His master's box produced, for when he sces
The thumb and singer of Authority

up the nestrila, whien har, lead, and wiy
Shake all; wiien on the waistcoat black the dust
Or drop falls brown; soon shall the brow severe
Riclax; and from vituperative lips
Words that of birchi remind not, sounds of praise,
And jokes that must be laugh'd at shall procecil.






O SPARE me-spare me,

Phicebus! if indeed Thou liast not let another Phaeton Drivc carılıward thy fierce steeds and fiery car; Mercy! I melt! I melt! No tree, no bush, No shelter! not a breath of stirring air East, West, or North, or South! Dear God of day, Put on thy nightcap. crop thy locks of light, And be in the fashion! turn thy back upon us, And let thy beams tlow upward! make it night Instead of noon! one little miracle, In pity, gentle Phoebus!

Wiat a joy, Oh what a joy, to be a seal and llounder On an ice island! or to have a den With the white bear, cavern'd in polar snow! It were a comfort to shake hands with death,He has a rare cold hand! to wrap one's self In the gift-shirt Deianeira sent, Dipt in the blood of Nessus, just to keep The sun off, or toast cheese for Beelzebub That were a cool employment to this journey

Jacob! I do noi love to see thy nose
Turnd up in scornful curve at yonder Pig:
It would be well, my friend, if we, like him,
Were perfect in our kind!—and why despise
The sow-born grunter?-le is obstivate,
'Thou auswerest; ugly, and the filthiest beast
That banquets upon offal. Now I pray you
llear the Pig's Counsel.

Is he obstinate?
We must not, Jacol), be deceived by words,
By sopbist sounds. A democratic beast,
He knows that his unmerciful drivers seek
Their protit, and not his. He liath not learnt
That Pigs were made for man,---born to be brawu'd
And baconized; that he must please to give
Just what his gracious masters please to take;
Perhaps liis lusks, the weapons Nature gave
For self-defence, the general privilege;

Perhaps, --hark Jacob! dost thou hear that horo? Led by the nose, embruted, and in the eye
Woe to the young posterity of pork!

Of Reason from their Nature's

purposes Their enemy is at hand.

Is miserably perverted.
Again. Thou say'st

The Pig is ugly. Jacob, look at lim!

Now could I soonetize thy piteous plight, Those eyes have taught the Lover flattery.

And prove how much my sympathetic heart Ilis face,-nay, Jacob, Jacob! were it fair

Even for the miscries of a beast can feel, To judge a Lady in hier disliabille?

In fourteen lines of sensibility. Fancy it drest, and with salıpetre rouged.

But we are told all things were made for man; Behold his tail, my friend, with curls like that

And I'll be sworn there's not a fellow here The wanton biop marries her stately spouse :

Who would not swear 'were hanging blasphemy So crisp in beauty Amorelta's hair

To doubt that truth. Therefore as thou wert born, Rings round her lover's soul the chains of love.

Bruin! for man, and mau makes nothing of ilice And what is beauty, but the aptiuide

In any other way - mosdogically OF parts harmonious? give thy fancy scope,

It follows, that thou must be born to dance; And thou will find that no imagined change

That that great spont of thine was form'd on purpose Cau beautify this beast. Place at huis end

To hold a ring; and that thy fat was given thec The starry glories of the Peacock's pride;

Ouly to make pomatum! Cive him the Swan's white breast; for his horn-hoofs

To demur Shape such a foot and ankle as the waves

Were heresy. And politicians say Crowded in eager rivalry to kiss,

(Wise men who in the scale of reason give When Vents from the enamoural sea arose;

No foolish feelings weigh), that thou art bere Jacob, thou canst but make a monster of him!

Far happier thau thy brother bears who roam All alteration man could ihink would nar

O'er Trackless snow for food; that being born
Dis Pig-perfection.

Inferior to thy leader, unto him
The last charge,-he lives

Rightly belongs dominion; that the compact
A dirty life. Here I could shelter him

Was made between ye, wlicu ty clumsy feel Willi noble and right-reverend precedents,

First fell into the snare, and he jave up And slow by sanction of authority

llis right to kill, conditioning ily life That 't is a very lonourable thing

Should thenceforth be his property;- besisles, To thrive by dirty ways. But let me rest

*T is wholesome for thy morals to be brought On belter ground the unanswerable defence :

Fromn savage climes joto a civilized state, The Pig is a philosopher, who knows

Into the docencies of Christendom.No prejudice. Dirt? Jacob, what is diri?

Bear! Bear! il passes in the Parliament If matter,;--wliy the delicale dish that tempts

For excellent logic this! what if we say An o'ergorged Epicure to the last morsel

How barbarously man abuses power? 'That stuffs him to the throal-gates is no more. Talk of thy baiting, it will be replied, If matter be nol, but as Sages say,

Thy welfare is thy owner's interest, Spirit is all, and all things visible

But were dou bajted it would injure thee, Are one, the infinitely modified,

Therefore thou art not bited. For seven yers Think, Jacob, what that Pig is, and the inire

lear ii, o leaven, and give car, o Earılı! Wherein lie stands kuce-Jecp.

For seven los yours this precious Syilogism

And there! What breeze Mathi bafiled justice and luanity!
Pleads with me, and has won tice to the smile
That speaks conviction. O'er yen blossom'd field
Of beans it came, and thoughts of bacon rise.

Nar, gallicr not that Filbert, Nicholas,

There is a magot there, --it is his house,

llis castle, ---oli commit not burglary! RECOMMENDED TO THE ADVOCATES FOR THE SLAVE- Sirip loin not naked, -t is his clothes, his shell,

Ilis bones, the case and armour of his life,

And thou shalı do no murder, Nicholas!
Rare music! I would rather hear cat-courtslip Ji were an easy thing to crack that nut
Cinler my bed-room window in the night,

Or with thy crackers or thy double teeth,
Than this scraped carguit's screak. Rare dancing too! So casily may all things be destroy'd!
Alas, poor Bruin! How he foots the polc,

But 't is not in the power of mortal man
And waddles round it will unwieldy steps,

To mnend the fracture of a filbert shell. Swaying from side to side'-The dancing-master There were two great men once amused themselves llath had as profiless a pupil in him

Watching two maggots run their wriggling race, As wlien he would have tortured my poor toes

And wagering on their speed; but Nick, to us
To minuct grace, and made them move like clockwork it were no sport to see the pamperd worm
In musical obedience. Bruin ! Bruin!

lioli out and then draw in his folds of Hill, Thou art but a clumsy biped !--and the mob

Like to some Barber's leathera powder-bag With noisy merrimcat mock lis lieavy pace,

herewith he feathers, frosts, or cauliflowers And laughi 10 sce laiu led by the nose!-themselves Spruce Beau, or Lady fair, or Doctor grave.


Have ye

Enough of dangers and of enemies
liath Nature's wisdom for tbe worm ordaind:
Increase not thou the number! lliin the Mouse
Gnawing with nibbling tooth the shell's defence
May from bis native lepement eject;
lim may the Nut-batch piercing with strong bill
Unwillingly destroy; or to bis hoard
The Squirrel bear, at leisure to be crackd.
Man also bath his dangers and his foes
As this poor Macgot bath; and when I muse
Upon the achies, anxieties, and fears,
The Macgot knows noi, Nicholas, mcthinks
It were a happy metamorphosis
To be enkerneil'd thus : never to hear
Of wars, and of invasions, and o- plots,
kings, Jacobines, and Tax-commissioners;
To feel no motion but the wind that shook
The Filbert Tree, and rock'd us to our rest;
And in the middle of such exquisite food
To live luxurious! the perfectiou this
Of spugness! it were to unite al once
Gcrmii retirement, Aldermanic bliss,
And Stoic independence of mankiud.

Than this may change liis old flagitious heart.

not seen him in the balance weiglid, And there found wanting? On the stage of blood Foremost the resolute adventurer stood;

And when by many a battle won,

lle placed upon his brow the crown,
Curbing delirious France beneath his sway,

Then, like Octavius io old time,
Fair name miglit lie have hauded down,

Effacing many a stain of former crime.
Fool! should he cast away that bright renown!

Fool! the redemption proffer'd should he lose! Wheu llcaven such prace vouchsafed him that the way

To Good and Evil lay
Before him, which to chuse.





BUONAPARTE IN JANUARY, 1814. Who counsels peace at this momentous lour, Whieu God hath given deliverance to elie oppress'd,

And to the injured power?
Who counsels peace, when Vengeance like a flood
Rolls on, no longer now to be repress'd ;

When innocent blood
From the four corners of the world cries out

For justice upon one accursed bread; When Freedom bath her holy banners spread

Over all patioas, now in ouc just cause
United; when with one sublime accord

Europe throws off the yoke abhorrd,
Aud Loyalty and Faith, and ancient Laws

Follow the avenging sword!

Put Evil was lois Good, For all too long in blood bad be been nurst, And uc'er was earth with fouler tyrant curst

Bold min and bad, Remorseless, godless, full of fraud and lies, Anil black with murders and with perjuries,

Ilimself in Bell's whole panoply lic clad; No law but liis own headstrong will lie knew,

No counscllor but his own wicked heart! From evil thus portentous strength die drew, And trampled under foot all human ties,

All holy laws, al natural charities. O France! beneath this fierce Barbarian's sway

Disgraced thou art 10 all succeeding times! Rapine and blood and fire have mark'd thy way,

All loutlısome, all anulterable crimes! A curse is on thee, France! from far and wide It hall gone up to leaven! All lauds have cried

For vengeance upon thy detested head! All mations curse thice, Francc! for whicresoc'er Ja peace or war ily banner latlı been spread, All forms of human woc have follow'd there.

The Living and the Dead Cry out alike ngiritist tice! Tlicy who bear Crouching beneail its weichit thine iron yoke,

Join in the bilierness of secret prayer

The voice of that innumerable throug, Whose slaughter'd spirits day and night invoke

The everlasting Judge of riglit and wrong, How long, O Lord! Holy and just, low long!

A merciless oppressor last thou been, Thyself remorselessly oppress'd mcantime; Greetly of war, when all that thou couldst gain Was but to dye thy soul with deeper crime, And rivet faster round thyself the chain. O blind to honour, and to interese blind,

When thus in abject servitude resign'd To this barbarian upstart, thou couldst brave

God's justice, and the heart of humankind! Madly thou thoughtest to enslave the world,

Thyself the while a miserable slave! Behold the flag of vengeance is unfurld? The dreadful armies of the North advance! While Eagland, Portugal, and Spain combined,

Give their triumphant banners to the wind, And stand victorious in the fields of France!

Woe, woe to England! woc and endless shame

If this heroic land,
False to licr feelings and unspotted fame,
Hold out the olive to the Tyrant's hand!
Woe to the world if Buonaparte's throue

Be suffer'd still to stand!
For by what names shall Righit and Wrong be

known!, What new and courtly plorases must we feign For Falsehood, Murder, and all monstrous crimes, If that perfidious Corsican maintain

Still lis detested reign, And France, who yearns even now to break her chain,

Beneath his iron rule be left to groan!

No! hy the indumerable dead, Whose blood hath for his lust of power been slied,

Death only can for leis foul deeds alouc! That peace

which Death and judgment can bestow, Thai peace be Buonaparte's,-that alone!

For sooner shall the Ethiop change his skin, Or from the Leopard sluier spots deparı,

One man liath been for ten long wretclied years The cause of all this blood and all these tears!

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