Thefe dark, wafte hours allow the restless Ghost
To burft the cearments of the festering Dead;
Terror of him, who long to mercy loit,

In late and vain remorfe may vengeance dread.

Thy oath!-thy pledge!-remember them, and fear!
Now, if thou canft, thy barbarous crime atone!
Lo! thy once faithful Maid, a Spectre drear,
Gives back thy vows, and fternly claims her own!
This face, once gaz'd on with ecstatic eyes,
Once prais'd fo fondly, why did'st thou defert?
Why, with thy tender looks, thy pleading fighs,
Win, but to wound, my foft, believing heart?
Thy promife, ah, falfe Promifer of joys!
How coud'ft thou break, to crush my rifing years!
Why flatter, cruel Flatterer! thefe eyes,
Yet leave them fading in unpitied tears?

How coud'st thou fay my lips, in early bloom,
Sham'd the firft crimson of the Summer's rofe!
Why faid't thou fo?-and why did I prefume,
Rash Maid! to credit thy deluding vows?
This alter'd face!-now does it bloom--behold!---
This lip, this naked lip, no fmile retains;
Death is in thefe funk eyes,-and on this cold
And livid cheek, no lingering charm remains.
The hungry Worm my wafting form devours.
Feeds on thefe limbs, infatiate with her prey,
A cold,—a long,-a tedious night is ours
Till the late rifing of the nightlefs Day?

Hark! the Cock crows!-the warning note he gave?
Hark! yet again!-A long-a laft farewell!-
Come PERJUR'D, view thy gift, the deep, dark Grave
Where thy loft JULIA's difmal relics dwell!"

Now fing the Birds, and from the purpling Eaft,
The Sun prepares to give the golden day!-
Pale Greville, every horror in his breast,
Leaps from his couch, and frantic fpeeds away.

And to the tomb, the fatal tomb, is flown,
Where, cold in death, his injur'd JULIA lay.
A moment ftands by the rais'd turf!-then down,
Headlong he falls on the diffolving Clay.

Thrice calls he JULIA, in a piercing found;
Thrice does he weep, and thrice, with groans complain;
Then, clafping wild the fwell'd and hallow'd ground,
Nor weeps, nor groans, nor fpeaks,-nor moves again.

The

The next poem, by Mr. Leyden, of a very different caft, affords a pleafing recollection of an ingenious poet, now absent from his country: and has alfo much merit.

STANZAS

Written by Mr. Leyden before his departure to Madras, on the fal lowing given Line from Chaucer,

"Harde is his herte that lovith nought."

As flow the waning year retires,
The wild-wood warblers lofe their fires,
Long fhall they reft on lonely wing,
Far from their mates, till jocund Spring
Again the month of Love has brought:
But man kind Nature grants to prove
Through every month the power of Love;
Hard is his heart that loveth nought.

And I, who once in frolic mood,
With wild and witlefs hardihood,
Julia unknown, would mock the woe
Which only faithful lovers know.
When first I saw her face, I thought-
If aught on earth fo angel bright
Can charm the foul to foft delight,
Hard is his heart that loveth nought."

Torn from thy circling arms afar,
To pine beneath the eastern star,
As fad my lingering eyes I turn
To fee thee my departure mourn

Too dear thy love can ne'er be bought,

Sweet foul' figh; thou ne'er fhall rue ;-
I deem the heart that loves untrue

More hard than his that loveth nought."" P.12. London, January, 1803.

A poem entitled Glendalloch, by Dr. Drennan, which occurs within a few pages of thefe, contains ftrong marks of genius, and rifes occafionally to fublimity; but we are forry to obferve, that it breathes a violent fpirit of hoftility againft that glorious public meafure, the union of Great Britain and Ireland. The author appears convinced that his country was made for an independent state: but surely this is the dream of partiality rather than the decifion of wisdom. Much happier and greater may the be, indiffolubly united with that Sifter, who gives and receives a ftrength which neither could poffefs in feparation.

The

The following very elegant poem, with its melancholy appendage, fpeaks ftrongly for the heart as well as the genius of the writer, and deserves our favourable notice.

HORÁCE, ODE 7, BOOK 2, IMÍTATÉD.

To Mrs. W. Boscawen, written in the Sammer of 1803.

"Thou, who if Heav'n, that join'd our hands,
O'er Zembla's fnows, or Libya's fands,

Ordain'd me far to roam,
Would't ftill, with faithful love, attend
My fond companion, gentle friend,
And deem my heart thy home!

Though yet, unbroke by care and pain,
My health and active powers remain,
Though youthful bloom be thine;
Should age come on with rapid ftride,
What bleft retreat shall we provide?
Where foothe our life's decline?

+ Whichwood, in thy romantic fhades,
Thy breezy lawns, fequefter'd glades,
My youthful hours were bleft!
In thy bleft scenes, remote from strife,
From public cares, and bufy life,
My peaceful age should reft.

But this our wayward lot denies :
Then let us turn our anxious eyes

(Where late we joyed to rove)
Tunbridge, to thy falubrious rill,
Thy cavern'd rocks, famed Ephraim's hill,
And royal Anna's grove.

IMITATIONS.

* "Septimi, Gades aditure mecum, &c."
"Tibur Argao pofitum colono, &c.

Whichwood Foreft, in Oxfordshire, where the Author's father

had a lodge."

"Unde fi Parcæ prohibent iniquæ,

Dulce pellitis ovibus Galefi

Flumen, et regnata petam Laconi

Rura Phalanto.

Dear

Ille terrarum mihi præter omnes,
Angulus ridet, &c."

U u

BRIT. CRIT. VOL. XXVIII. DEC. 1806.

Dear chofen spot! where shelter'd vales
May guard us from th' inclement gales
When wint'ry tempefts blow,

* When Zephyr from the diftant main
Wafts his foft freshness o'er the plain
To cool the fummer's glow.

There focial blifs, when hearts unite,
With fweet Retirement's calm delight
(Rare harmony!) we blend

And oft, enlivening vacant hours,
Meet in fequefter'd walks and bowers
Some dear unlook'd-for friend.

+ There, when the vital fpark decays,
On my loved CHARLOTTE'S form I'll gaze
E'en to my latest breath;

And, if befide my couch fhe ftand,

Grafp her with trembling failing hand,

And fmile, ferene in death."

EPITAPH,

W. B.

In Mary-le-Bone Burying-Ground, on the Lady of William Bef caren, Efq. who died April 14, 1804.

Kind, tender Mother!-fond and faithful Wife! Here wait the meed that crowns a well-fpent life. E'en now, perchance, thy fpirit foars above, To meet each dear ‡ departed Pledge of Love. O! may thy widowed Partner, when the doom Of righteous Heav'n configns him to the tomb, Here, where his loved lamented CHARLOTTE lies, With her in peace repofe--with her to blifs arife !" P. 52. We are pleased to fee among the fugitive poems, fome -recalled to notice, which have been long difficult to be procured; particularly the prize poem of Dr. Butfon, now Bishop of Clonfert, on the Love of our Country, (P. 397). We cannot undertake an accurate comparifon, but we are inclined to think that this is the beft volume we have feen; and we hope it may be continued with equal spirit.

TIBULL.

Te teneam moriens deficiente manu.

That the above wifh cannot (alas!) now be fulfilled will be

Teen by the following Epitaph."

ART. VI. Converfations on Chemistry. In which the Elements of that Science are familiarly explained and illuftrated by Experiments. In Two Volumes, with Plates in Outline. 12mo. pages 326, and 289. 14s. Longman, and Co.

1806.

NOTWITHSTANDING the numerous elementary publications on the fubject of chemistry, which have appeared within thefe few years, we are decidedly of opinion, that the prefent work, written by the hand of an anonymous female, is likely to prove a ufeful and valuable acquifition to the lovers of that enchanting fcience. It is not from the difcuffion of the moft intricate branches of chemistry in a full and complete manner, or from the account of new facts, that the merits of this work must be derived; but from its anfwering, in the completeft manner imaginable, the object of its title; that is, from its explaining the elements of chemistry in an easy and familiar manner. The perfpicuity of the flyle, the regular difpofition of the fubject, the judicious felection of illuftrative experiments, and the elegance of the plates, are fo well adapted to the capacity of beginners, and efpecially of those who do not wish to dive deep into the fcience, that a more appropriate publication can hardly be defired.

The work confifts of two volumes, in which the elements of chemiftry are divided into fections, or, as this author calls them, converfations; and are explained under the form of dialogues, between a teacher and two pupils. Eleven of thefe converfations are contained in the firit, and twelve in the fecond volume. Eleven fmall plates are contained in the two volumes. Thefe exhibit the outline only of fome inftruments, preparations, experiments, &c.; but they are executed with great neatnefs, by the mafterly hand of Lowry.

In the preface, this author acknowledges herself a woman, offers her work principally to the female fex, and modeftly declares, that as her knowledge of the fubject has been but recently acquired, fhe can have no real claim to the title of chemift. By attending a courfe of chemical lectures the became acquainted with the rudiments of that fcience. But

We fuppofe we do not hazard much in conjecturing the very ingenious female to be Mrs. Bryan. The author has gone f far as to call herself Mrs. B.