CHAPTER XV.

He was a son of Egypt, as he told me,

And one descended from those dread magicians,
Who waged rash war, when Israel dwelt in Goshen,
With Israel and her Prophet-matching rod
With his the sons of Levi's-and encountering
Jehovah's miracles with incantations,

Till upon Egypt came the avenging Angel,
And those proud sages wept for their first-born,
As wept the unletter'd peasant.

CHAPTER XXV.

No human quality is so well wove

In warp and woof, but there's some flaw in it;
I've known a brave man fly a shepherd's cur,
A wise man so demean him, drivelling idiocy
Had well nigh been ashamed on't. For your crafty,
Your worldly-wise man, he, above the rest,

Weaves his own snares so fine, he's often caught in them.

CHAPTER XXVI.

WHEN Princes meet, astrologers may mark it
An ominous conjunction, full of boding,

Like that of Mars with Saturn.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THY time is not yet out-the devil thou servest
Has not as yet deserted thee. He aids

The friends who drudge for him, as the blind man
Was aided by the guide, who lent his shoulder
O'er rough and smooth, until he reach'd the brink
Of the fell precipice-then hurl'd him downward.

CHAPTER XXX.

OUR counsels waver like the unsteady bark,
That reels amid the strife of meeting currents.

CHAPTER XXXI.

HOLD fast thy truth, young soldier.—Gentle maiden, Keep you your promise plight-leave age its subtleties, And grey-hair'd policy its maze of falsehood;

But be you candid as the morning sky,

Ere the high sun sucks vapours up to stain it.

THERE must be government in all society

Bees have their Queen, and stag herds have their

leader;

Rome had her Consuls, Athens had her Archons,
And we, sir, have our Managing Committee.

CHAPTER XI.

NEAREST of blood should still be next in love,
And when I see these happy children playing,
While William gathers flowers for Ellen's ringlets,
And Ellen dresses flies for William's angle,
I scarce can think, that in advancing life,
Coldness, unkindness, interest, or suspicion,
Will e'er divide that unity so sacred,

Which Nature bound at birth.

CHAPTER XXIII.

OH! you would be a vestal maid, I warrant,
The bride of Heaven-Come-we may shake your

purpose:

For here I bring in hand a jolly suitor

Hath ta'en degrees in the seven sciences

That ladies love best-He is young and noble,
Handsome and valiant, gay and rich, and liberal.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Sedet post equitem atra cura

STILL though the headlong cavalier,
O'er rough and smooth, in wild career,
Seems racing with the wind;
His sad companion-ghastly pale,
And darksome as a widow's veil,
CARE-keeps her seat behind.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

WHAT sheeted ghost is wandering through the storm? For never did a maid of middle earth

Choose such a time or spot to vent her sorrows.

'Tis well the gifted eye which saw The first light sparks of fancy burn Should mark its latest flash with awe,

Low glimmering from its funeral urn.

And thou mayest mark the hint, fair maid,
How vain is worldly esteem;
Good fortune turns, affections fade,
And fancy is an idle (dream ?).

Yet not on this poor form alone,
My palsied hand and deafened ear,

But on my country's fate

The bolts of fate seem doom'd to speed.