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And now the morning's trembling ray

Saw Eda's shade depart;
But, sank in anguish, Albert lay,

With sorrow at his heart.

Mabel, who'd nothing heard or seen, Lay wond'ring till 'twas light; And little did she joy, I ween,

In this her wedding-night.

She thought, indeed, 'twas more than odd,
That she, a new-made bride,
Should bave a dull and senseless clod

Lie lumpish by her side.

But ev'ry night 'tis just the same,
For Albert is as dead;
And Mabel, though a wealthy dame,
Wishes she ne'er had wed.
And sunk is Albert's sparkling eye,
And blanch'd his
rosy cheek;
Cold damps upon his forehead lie,

And fear his looks bespeak.

And he who late so gay was seen,

To ev'ry pleasure dead,
With measur'd' step and mournful mien,
Now bends to earth his head.
And constant still upon the heath,
Wrapp'd in a winding sheet,
That pale and icy form of death,

At this lone hour you'll meet.

Albert, the wealth that won thy heart,

By strangers shall be spent ;
Childless from life wilt thou depart,

And none shail thee lament.

While still the hapless Eda's tomb

With cypress shall be drest;
And maids shall weep her early doom,
And bid her spirit rest.

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And mingle with the rich and vain, Who scorn the daughters of the plain, Thy unsophisticated heart

May change its present ease for smart,

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My sweet, my artless Mary.

Then let not pride's fallacious ray
Seduce thee from the humble way;
Ambition dazzles to destroy,

And wealth but seldom leads to joy;
The gold and gems that shine so fair,
Too often hide a heart of care,

My sweet, my artless Mary.

Ah, let not gaudy toys ensnare!
Sell not content for empty glare;
Here health is found in ev'ry gale,
Fair virtue loves the quiet vale;
She dies the senseless, giddy throng,
To dwell the sylvan groves amoug,

My sweet, my artless Mary.

Safe in the shade, the fragile flow'r
Enjoys the sun, imbibes the show'r,
Expands its silken bosom fair,
And with its fragrance loads the air:
But to another soil convey'd,
Its sweets decay, its beauties fade,

My sweet, my artless Mary.

Take now the moral of the lay,
Ab! never discontented stray
From that safe path where peace presides,
To flaunt where empty pomp resides;
For men will flatter to betray;
Then leave with scorn their hapless prey,
My sweet, my artless Mary.

Then through the day, no longer bright,
And the long dark and weary night,
Thou'dst glow with rage, wouldst chill with
fears,

Thy lustrous eye be dimm'd with tears;
Shunn'd by the good, thy hours would be
Devoted all to misery,

My sweet, my artless Mary.

Thy alter'd form and hectic cheek,
Consumption's rapid strides would speak;
Gaunt poverty, with squalid face,
Would chill thy heart in ev'ry place;
No tears would pitying fall for thee,
Except the tears that feil from me,
My sweet, my artless Mary.

For I, whatever ills befall,

Would love thee, though despis'd by all,

Would mourn the fate that bade thee roam,

Would try to lure thee to thy home:
And if affection could not save,

Would sink with thee into the grave,

My sweet, my artless Mary.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

FROM MISS MR. MITFORD'S POEMS.

WHERE all that strikes th' admiring eye
Breathes beauty and sublimity;
Where the cool air and tranquil light
The world-worn heart to peace invite;
Whence comes this sadness, pure and holy,
This calm, resistless melancholy?
This hallow'd fear, this awe-struck feeling;
Comes it from yonder organ pealing?
From low chaunt, stealing up the aisle?
From clos'd gate, echoing through the pile?
From storied windows glancing high?
From bannerets of chivalry?

Or from yon holy cha; el, seen
Dimly athwart the Gothic screen?
No; 'tis the strang r's solema tread,
Resounding o'er the mighty dead!
He came to see thy wondrous state,
The wise, the beau iful the great;
Thy glory, Empress of the wave,
He came to see—and found a grave:
But such a grave, as never yet
To statesinan paid a people's debt !
In battle-strife, the hero's sigh
Is beath'd for thee, or victory!
And bards immortal find in thee
A second immortality.

He who first rais'd from Gothic gloom

Our tongue,-bere Chaucer finds a tomb:
Here geatle Spencer; foulest stain

Of his own Gloriana's reign!

And he who mock'd at Arts controul,
The mighty master of the soul,
Shakespeare, our Shakespeare! by his side,
The man who pour'd his mighty tide:
The brightest union Genius wrought,
Was Garrick's voice and Shakespeare's thought.
Here Milton's heav'n strung lyre reposes;
Here Dryden's meteor brilliance closes;
Here Newton lies-and with him lie
The thousand glor.es of ur sky:
Stars, numerous as the host of Heaven,
And radiant as the flashing levin!
Lo, Chatham! the immortal name
Graven in the patriot's heart of flame!
Here, his long course of honours run,
The mighty Father's mighty Son;
And here-Ab, wipe that falling tear!
Last, best, and greatest-Fox lies here!
Here slep they al: on the wide earth
There dwell not men of mortal birth,
Would dare contest Fame's glo: ious race
With those who fill this little space.

Oh! could some wizard spell revive
The buried dead, and bid them live!
It were a sight to charm dull age,
The infant's roving eye engage,
The wounded heal, the deaf man cure,
The widow from her tears allure,
And moping idiots tell the story,

Of England's bliss, and England's glory!

And they do live! our Shakespeare's strains
Die not while English tongue remains ;
Whilst light and colours spread and fly,
Live's Newton's deathless memory:
Whilst freedom warms one English breast,
There Fox's honour'd name shall rest :
Yes, they do live! they live to inspire
Fame's daring sons with hallow'd fire;
Like sparks from heav'n, they wake the
bl ze,

The living light of genius' rays;

Bid English glories flash across the gloom, And catch her heroes' spirit from their tomb!

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FASHIONS

FOR

JULY, 1812.

EXPLANATION OF THE PRINTS OF FASHION.

No. 1-OPERA, OR GALA DRESS,

A robe of Imperial blue sarsnet, shot with white, with a demi train, ornamented with Ene French lace down each side the front and round the bottom; the trimming surmounted by a white satin ribband; the robe left open a small space down the front, and fastened with clasps of sapphire and pearl over a white satin slip petticoat short fancy sleeve to correspond with the ornaments of the robe. Parisian cap made open, formed of rows of fine lace and strings of pearl, the hair dressed à-la-Hen riette of France, appearing between, and much separated on the forehead. Pearl necklace, and hoop earrings of the same. Scarf shawl in twisted drapery of fine white lace. White kid gloves and fan of ivory, ornamented with gold. Slippers the same colour as the robe,

with white rosettes.-This beautiful dress is the invention of Miss WALTERS, Wigmorestreet, Cavendish-square.

No. 2.-EVENING DRESS.

A pale willow green, shot with white; or plain white gossamer satin slip, with a demi train fringed with silver; short close sleeves the same as the slip, terminated with rows of scallops. Short Grecian robe of white crape, embroidered and fringed with silver; the waist of satin, ornamented with pearls, beads, or a delicate trimming of silver; girdles à-larepentie, formed of silver cordon and rich silver tassels. Aune of Denmark hat, of white satin, with a long white ostrich feither drooping over the front, and surmounted by a small bunch of rose-buds or wild honey-suckles; pearl bandeau discovered on the right side of the head. Maltese earrings of pearl and sapphires, with pearl necklace and cross to correspond. White satin slippers, fringed with silver. No. XXXIII. Vol. V.-N. S.

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White kid gloves. The shawl or long mantle generally thrown over this dress should be of Maria Louisa blue, with very deep fringe. This elegant dress is the invention of Mrs. THOMAS, corner of Chancery-lane, Fleet-street.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS

ON

FASHION AND DRESS.

Votaries and observers of fashion, but not her slaves, we follow her through her versatile paths, catch her varied attractions, and present her changes to our readers as they pass before us in gay succession.

Now the pelisse reposes safely in the cedar press, and the velvet and fur are embued with spicy odours, the preservatives of Turkey leather, camphire, and cedar shavings, which defend their warm and rich texture from the destructive moth, till winter shall again reassume her frozen empire.

To these comfortable shields to the female form, have succeeded the spenser, the mantilla, and the scarf shawl; the former of these articles is most in favour for walking, with a bonnet of the same: these bonnets are now bent over the forehead, and the flower is transferred from beneath to the front, or round the crown of the bonnet; but the most favourite ornament is a long white ostrich feather.

The most prevailing colour for spensers is pink shot with blue, and trimmed round the waist with a white gossamer kind of fringe. Mantillas made of coloured silk, trimmed with black lace, are much in requisition; the most elegant of these articles forms a short cloak, sitting close to the shape, by the con

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light aqua marina, and next her face confines the bright coloured net by a bandeau of dark emeralds, or a Ceylon ruby-coloured net,

of the very best daik Oriental rubies; and to ladies who have not very fine hair, these nets with bandeaux form both a simple and elegant head-dress.

finement of a ribband, and is called the Mantilla Infantado; the hat generally worn with this is of simple white satin, en toque, covered with a nun's veil. The Installation head-spotted with pink, and confined by a bandeau dress is also sometimes worn under a long veil, consisting of the hair elegantly dressed, and when the veil is thrown on one side, on the other is discovered a bandeau or clusters of jewels, or short strings of pearls falling over the temples. The head is more dressed for walking than for some months past; it is true the long veil and parasol conceal i', and for this last essential summer article, those in the Chinese form, of green, with rich brocaded edges in white are most admired.

The gowns are made much the same as last month, consisting chiefly of French cambrics or India muslius for half-dress; ard coloured maslins, crapes, Opera nets, gossamer satins, and French sarsnets, for evening parties; white is, however, very general for both domestic and out-door costume. At all dinner and dress parties, a shawl kind of drapery is at present indispensible; consisting of slight shawls of black or white lace; some fancifully worked in colours, others of fiue patent or French net,falling careles'? rom the shoulders, and many wear a small white lace mantle, and fasten it on each shoulder with a pearl brooch, and this kind of drapery hanging from the back of the shoulders is of peculiar advantage to a short figure, and looks graceful on any one. The trimmings of gowns are chiefly composed of light gossamer fringe, or chain gymp of various colours intermingled, something in the style of the old French trimming; for very full dress they are of silver.

The dressing and disposing the hair yet maintains its favour and preference in the style adopted by King Charles's beauties, and seems peculiarly suited to the English counte nance. Flowers in half-dress, and herons and ostrich feathers in full dress, are now universally adopted. Shading off a colour seems also very prevalent; and to those eyes which are accustomed to paint or embroider, it is very gratifying, and certainly very becoming when on a head dress; for instance, a lady wears on her head a net of bright grass-green, with

In jewellery, pearls, amethysts, sapphires, aqua marina, and agate, have taken place of gems of more ardent and refulgent appearance; large oval pieces of fine Macoa, or Egyptian pebbles, set at short distances, and relieved by spaces of gold chain, form a costly and elegant article for the neck. Eye-glasses also, set round with pearl, are a very fashionab'e ornament.

The village basket has now taken place of the ridicule, which, with the cottage bonnel, placed very backward, with flowers underneath, on each side the forehead, give to many of our ladies of very high rank, the appearance of blooming and beautiful cottagers.

Stays are now very much thrown aside; and the exquisite contour of a fine Grecian form is now no longer, by being steel-clad, disguised in such impenetrable and hideous armour: a young lady of the most exalted rank, it is said, first set this laudable example, and appears always the original of that excellent likeness with which the Royal Academy is this year honoured. After this intelligence it is needless to acquaint our fair readers that the waists are considerably shorter than they were some months ago.

For walking, half-boots of nankeen, pale blue jean or grey kid, fringed round the top, and laced behind, are much in favour, and for familiar visits, the Grecian sandal of black or very dark silk or satin, laced and bound with a very opposite light colour, has lately been much adopted, while, for full dress, the elegant Italian slipper, either of white satin, fringed with gold or silver; pale blue satin without fringe, and lilac, with white bugle roses, seems to retain an unrivalled pre-eminence.

The favourite colours are blue, lilac, jonquil, Pomona, and pale willow green.

THE MIRROR OF FASHION. In a series of Letters from a Gentleman of rank and taste, to a Lady of Quality.

LETTER XII.

AFTER having so long entertained your Ladyship with the graces and excesses of fashion exhibited by our ancestors of the fourteenth century, I shall not, in this letter, detain you long on the coiffures and mantles of the succeeding era. This epistle is only meant as a kind of vestibule to the palace which is to present you to the wardrobes of the bright Elizabeth Woodville, and the bewitching Jane Shore, when they arrayed their forms for royal conquest.

In those days of gallantry, in love and arms, the dress of the men bespoke them the ser. vitors of both sovereigns. Their habi's were a mixture of martial with peaceful: they wore the warlike habergeon, but it was rendered gay by golden rings, and curious cyphers of ladies' names; and the embroidered scarf clasping the glittering sword, the splendour, more than the use of the weapon, was apparent. The steeled helmet gave place to the ermined bonnet; and where the frowning crest heretofore overhang the soldier's brows, a plume of ostrich or of heron, nodded over the hero's amorous eyes.

Perhaps I should give you a tolerably just idea of the garb in which the royal Edward went a wooing, by saying that it was not much un'ike the costume in which our stage geuerally dresses its Pages of quality. The stage, as it is now ordered, under the fashion-learned eye of Mr. Kemble, is a kind of visible history of the fashions, not only of this country, but of the sister kingdoms. Before his time, our dramatic Hearies and Edwards appeared in bag-wigs, swords, and full-bottomed coats. Macbeth addressed his warl.ke Scots, in the dress of a macaroni. Cato, in the costume of St. James's, harangued the senate of Rome: and Coriolanus, in a suit of velvet and blue satin, marched at the head of an army of barbarians to attack his native and ungrateful city! Admirable must have been the acting which could have put to silence the ridiculous ideas of such absurd association; and admirable it was. Nature spoke in the voice and action of

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Garrick. We lost the habit of the actor, aɛd even the actor himself, in the personification of the character; and nonght was present to us but Macbeth, Hamlet, or Lear. Great as Mr. Kemble is, yet it is not the greatness of nature; it is not the sublime mountain we look upon, but a fabric reared by art; a struc. ture like the pyramids of Egypt.

In the reigns of Edward the Fourth and his immediate successor, a heavier embroidery and brocade was assumed than that adopted by the ladies in the preceding century. The under garment swelled cut gradually from the bottom of the waist to the lowest hem of the petticoat, in the form of a bell. It was usually stiffened with buckram or whalebone; and over it was spread the velvet, silk, or satin coat of many colours. This coat displayed the chief grandeur of the dress. It was often composed of cloth of gold, curiously wrought in silks and jewellery, and from it behind de volved the floating length of train, fringed and bordered with netting work and splendid tassels. The front of the superb petticoat was often clasped with precious stones, even from the girdle to the toe. There the little foot, surmounted on a huge high heel, presented itself, cased in embroidery, and sparkling like a pretty star beneath its cloud of garments. The lovely wearer's head was adorned with a coiffure of pearls, covering the whole tete, so as to entirely exclude the least appearance of hair; and the pearls of the cap coming quite forward, aud round the pretty fice, even to the tip of the chiu, the body's visage had the effect of a picture set in pearls. Over all that, matrons generally wore a prodigious ample and long veil, usually of cyprus-, gause, sometimes plain, and of one colour, and at other times wrought with go'd. It stood over the head, stiffened a little with wire, and then being clasped under the chin with a costly brooch, devolved down the shoulders, and over the figure, like a light mist playing round the whole form, shading, but not obscuring it.

In my next I will give you the detail of Anne Bullen's wedding robes, and meanwhile shall subscribe myself my Urania's faithful

PARIS.

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