One goes abroad for merchandise and trading,
Another stays to keep his country from invading,
A third is coming liome with rich and wealth of lading.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

When I look before,

There I do behold,
There's done that sees or knows;
All the world's a gadding,
Running madding,

None doth his station hold.
He that is below, envieth him that riseth,
And he that is above, him that's below despiseth ;
So every man his plot and counterplot deviseth.

Hallow my fancie, wbither wilt thou go?

Look, look what bustling

Here I do espy!
Each other justling,
Every one turmoiling,
Th' other spoiling,

As I did pass them by.
One sitteth musing in a dumpish passion,
Another hangs his head, because he's out of fashion ;
A third is fully bent on sport and recreation.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

Amidst the foamy ocean,

Fain would I know,
What doth cause the motion,
And returning
In its journeying,

And doth so seldom swerve!
And how these little fishes, that swim beneath salt water,
Do never blind their eye, methinks it is a matter,
An inch above the reach of old Erra Pater!

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

Fain would I be resolved

How things are done ;
And where the bull was calved
Of bloody Phalaris,
And where the tailor is,

That works to the man i' the moon!
Faid would I know how Cupid aims su rightly;
And how these little fairies do dance and leap so lightly;
And where fair Cynthia makes her ambles nightly.

Hallow my faucie, whither wilt thou go?

O from what ground of nature

Doth the pelican,
That self devouring creature,
Prove so froward,
And untoward

Her vitals for to strain!
And why the subtle fox, while in death's wounds is lying,
Doth not lament his pangs by howling and by crying;
And why the milk-white swan doth sing when she's a dying.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

Fain would I conclude this,

At least make essay,
What similitude is;
Why fowls of a feather
Flock and fly together,

ind lambs know beasts of prey.
How nature's alchymists, these small laborious creatures,
Acknowledge still a prince in ordering their matters,
And suffer none to live, who slothing lose their features.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

I'm rapt with admiration

When I do ruminate,
Men of an occupation,
How each one calls him brother,
Yet each envieth other,

And yet still intimate !
Yea I admire to see since nature's farther sundered,
Tban Antipodes to us. It is not to be wondered,
In myriads ye'll find, of one mind scarce a hundred!

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

What multitude of notions

Doth perturb my pate,
Considering the motions,
How the heavens are preserved,
And this world served,

In moisture, light, and heat!

If one spirit sits the outmost circle turning,
Or one turns another continuing in journeying,
If rapid circles motion be that which they call burning.

Hallow my fancy, whither wilt thou go?

Fain also would I prove this,

By considering,
What that, which you call love, is ;
Whether it be a folly,
Or a melancholy,

Or some heroic thing!
Fain I'd have it proved, by one whom love hath wounded,
And fully upon one his desire hath founded,
Whom nothing else could please, though the world were rounded.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

To know this world's centre,

Height, depth, breadth, and length,
Fain would I adventure,
To search the hid attractions
Of magnetic actions,

And adamantine strength.
Fain would I know, if in some lofty mountain,
Where the moon sojourns, if there be trees, or fountain,
If there be beasts of prey, or yet be fields to hunt in.

Hallow my fancie, whíther wilt thou go?

Fain would I have it tried

By experiment,
By none can be denied ;
If in this bulk of nature
There be voids less or greater,

Or all remains complete.
Fain would I know, if beasts have any reason;
If falcons killing eagles do commit a treason ;
If fear of winter's want make swallows fly the season.

Hallow my fancie, whither wilt thou go?

Hallow, my fancie, hallow,

Stay, stay at home with me;
I can thee no longer follow;
For thou hast betrayed me,
And bewrayed me,

It is too much for thee.
Stay, stay at home with me, leave off thy lofty soaring,
Stay thou at home with me, and on thy books be poriog,
For he that goes abroad lays little up in storing:
Thou'rt welcome home my fancie, welcome home to me.

SCIENTIFIC AND LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

THE ENPORIUM OF ARTS AND SCIENCES. Several numbers of a new series of this work have appeared in Philadelphia. The present editor is Mr. Thomas Cooper, Professor of Chymistry, &c. in Dickenson College. I he talents and information of this gentleman are calculated to render this work highly useful both to manufacturers and men of mere theory. The form of the work is altered from a monthly publication to a larger size, which appears every two months The chief contents of the numbers of the present series already published, are several papers written by the editor, purporting to be treatises on several of the most interesting branches of the useful manufactures, and their auxiliary machines. We cannot help thinking the editor is treading on dangerous ground in attempting to compress systematic articles of this kind into the limits of a periodical publication, and might have been more useful in merely publishing such part of his articles as is new, or scarce and difficult to be procured" The bulk of the articles will prevent their being read for mere amusement; and the mixture of old and well known processes will render them heavy and uninteresting to the adept. Still, however, they contain a mass of information, which is extremely valuable from its compression and the list of authorities which is given the other papers, on miscellaneous subjects, are, on the whole, well drawn tip, although a few inaccuracies occur, and the whole work is well deserving of the public favour.

R. Bruce's JOURNAL.-We are happy to notice the publication of a fourth num. ber of the American Mineralogical Journal, hy Archibald Bruce, M. D. of New. York. This work, which is principally devoted to the development of the mineralogy of this country, and the promotion of general and local mineralogical information, has been perused with great interest and approbation br the scientific circles of Europe. The vast and varied tracts of natural history in this country have as yet been but partially explored, and, perhaps, none so slightly as that of mineralogy. Naturalists, therefore, still look to it as, in some degree, a terra incognita, and hail with satisfaction all works like the present, which serve to throw any light on its almost untrodden regions. The present number completes the first volume, and contains, among other interesting articles, a paper on the geology and mineralogy of the Island of New-York, by Dr. Akerly. Another on the minerals in the vici. nity of Raltimore, by Robert Gilmore, jun Esq. and a third on some of the ores of Titanium, discovered within the United States, by Dr. Bruce. What we chiefly lament about this valuable wnrk, is the extreme slowness of its growth : the present volume having been a very long time atlaining its full size. It is observed, however, that those natural productions which are of slowest growth, are longest lived; if there be any analogy between those and the productions of the mind, we may augur to Dr. Bruce's work an extreme and tenacious old age.

Colles's TELEGRAPH.-It is with pleasure we learn that the attention of government has been attracted to the very simple and excellent telegraph of Mr. Colles. Orders have been received by him from the war department to have tele. graphs erected at Sandy-Hook, the Narrows, and New-York, on experiment. Mr. C. has improved his plan still further, and we have no doubt that it will yield the most perfect satisfaction.

BRITISH POETS.- Part of the manuscript of a new work, from the pen of Thomas Campbell, author of the Pleasures of Hope, &c. has been received, and is in the hands of Messrs. Eastburn, Kirk & Co. for publication. This work will consist of selections from British poets, from the reign of Edward III to the present time, with critical and biographical notices. It is the fruit of a great deal of study and labour, and will present, in the compass of three octavo volumes, a general, and at the same time a luminous and critical view of the whole region of British poetry. Something of the kind has been presented in Ellis's Specimens; but that work