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POETRY.

For the Literary Magazine. One little moment, short as blest,

Compassion Love's soft semblance *The following verses are supposed to wore,

be written by a gentle and timid My meagre form he fondly pressid, young woman, pining under the op And on his beating bosom bore. pression of a romantic and concealed passion for a man who entertained no His frame with strong emotion shook, suspicion of her attachment.

And kindness tun'd each falt'ring

word; NOT one kind look-one friendly word! While I, surpris'd, with anxious look

Wilt thou in chilling silence sit, The meaning of his glance explor’d. Ņor through the social hour afford One cheering smile or beam of wit? But soon my too experienc'd heart

Read nought but venerous pity there ; Yet still, absorb’d in studious care, I felt presumptuous hope depart,

Neglect to waste one look on me; And all again was dark despair.
For then my happy eyes may dare
To gaze and dwell uncheck'd on thee.

Yet still, in memory still, my heart

Lives o'er that fleeting bliss again; And still in silence sit, nor deign I feel his glance, his touch, impart

One gentle, precious word to say; Emotion through each bursting vein. For silent I may then remain,

And “ Once (I cry) those eyes so sweet Nor let my voice my soul betray.

On me with fondness deign’d to shine; This falt'ring voice, these conscious eyes, For once I felt his bosom beat

My throbbing heart too plainly speak: Against the conscious throbs of mine!" There timid hopeless passion lies,

Nor shall the dear remembrance die And bids it silence keep, and break.

While aught to me of life is given; To me how dear this twilight hour,

But soothe my last convulsive sigh, Cheer'd by the faggot's varying blaze!

And be, till then, my joy, my heaven! If this be mine, I ask no more

On morn's refulgent light to gaze: For now, while on his glowing cheek

For the Literary Magazine. I see the fire's red radiance fall, The darkest seat I softly seek,

TO ELIZA, WITH A DOVE. And gaze on him, unseen by all.

ACCEPT, dear maid, the most delightHis folded arms, his studious brow,

ful bird His thoughtful eye, unmark'd, I see ; That ever Venus to her chariot bound; Nor could his voice or words bestow By Love adopted, and by Peace preSo dear, so true a joy on me.

ferr'd,

For meekness valu'd, and for faith reBut he forgets that I am near :

nown'd. Fame, future fame, in thought he A bird, in which such rare perfections seeks;

meet, To him ambition's paths appear, And bright the sun of science breaks. His beauty, fair one, is, like your's,

Alone is worthy to be counted thine:

complete, His heart with ardent hope is fillid;

And his fidelity resembles mine.
His propects full of beauty bloom :
But, oh! my heart despair has chill’d,

Response.
My only prospect is—the tomb!

TO JULIUS, WITH A GOOSE. One only boon from Heaven I claim, Swain, I accept your all-accomplished And may it grant the fond desire !

dove, That I may live to hear his fame,

With rapture listen to his plaintive And in that throb of joy extire.

moan,

And vow with constancy the bird to If friends, if wealth, if earthly power love,

could save, Whose beauty thus reminds me of my Thy arm, O Death, had not the vic. own

t'ry gain'd;

But vain, alas! is every human aid, I cannot prove my gratitude too soon, When once opposed against Jehovah's For such a mark of tenderness con reign.

ferr'd; So song for song be thine, and boon for Yes, he was dear to all who knew his boon,

worth, Kindness for kindness, swain, and Each breast for him the pensive sigh bird for bird.

doth give;

Though he's united to his kindred Lo the best fowl the barn-yard can pro

earth,

Yet in their memory still his virtues duce,

live. My choice has singled from a tuneful group;

In his young breast bright Honou Accept, sweet bard, from me as great a rear'd her throne, goose

In his great mind fair Wisdom's inAs e'er was fatten'd in a poult'rer's fluence spread, coop.

While firm Integrity claim'd him her

own, Your verse the merit of the dove dis And threw her dazzling lustre round plays:

his head. The compliments I pay my bird are few ;

Firmness of soal still marked the path Yet 'tis, methinks, no niggard share of he trod, praise

His breast was warmed by virtue's saTo say how strongly he resembles cred flame ;

He bowd to each decree assigned by you.

God,
And bore with resignation ev'ry pain.

Ah, why then mourn for him, ye paFor the Literary Magazine.

rents dear,

Since he's removed from this vain LINES

world below?

Ah, why then shed the fond regretting ON THE DEATH OF JOHN ALLEN,

tear!

Where he has gone all sorrow cease Who departed this life on the third day of

and woe. February, 1806.

Rather rejoice his happy spirit's free'd,

And flown to taste of purer joys AH, cruel Death! why with untimely

above ; frost Dost thou delight to nip the tender Our blessed Saviour once for him did

bleed, flow'r?

That he might dwell in everlasting A shining ornament of science lost,

love. When Allen fell a victim to thy

E. B. w. power. Scarce seventeen summers o'er his head

For the Literary Magazine. had rollid, Scarce had his budding worth began

ON WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, 1616. to bloom, When Death approach'd, with meagre RENOWNED Spenser, lye a thought form, and told

more nigh That he must fall a victim to the To learned Chaucer; and, rare Beau. tomb.

mont, lye

my soul

ODE TO SICKNESS.

A little nearer Spenser ; to make roome Yet I have known thee fong! and For Shakespeare in your threefold, I have felt fourfold tombe

All that thou hast of sorrow. Many à tear To lodge all foure in one bed make a Has fall’n on my cold cheek; and many shift,

á sigh Until doom's day; for hardly will a Calld forth by thee, has swelld my fifth,

aching breast: Between this day and that by fates be Yet still I bless thee. O thou chasslaine,

t'ning pow'r! For whom your curtaines may be drawn For all I bless thee! Thou hast taught again.

To rest upon itself; to look beyond
The narrow bound of time, and fix its

hopes

On the sure basis of eternity. For the Literary Magazine,

Meanwhile, even in this transito. The following ode is said to have been ry scene,

written by a lady, in the north of Er Of what hast thou deprived me! Has gland, who for many years had been

thy hand oppressed with a hopeless consump- Clos'd up the book of knowledge ; tion.

drawn a veil O'er the fair face of nature; or des.

troyed

The tender pleasures of domestic life? NOT to the rosy maid, whom former Ah no! 'tis thine to call forth in the

heart hours Beheld me fondly covet, tune I now

Each better feeling; thou awakenest

there The melancholy lyre : no more I seek That unconfined philanthropy, which Thy aid, Hygeia* ! sought so long in

feels vain :

For all the unhappy--that warm symBut, 'tis to thee, O Sickness, 'tis to thee I wake the silent strings. Accept the

pathy

Which, casting every selfish care aside, lay Thou art no tyrant, warring the fierce Finds its own bliss in seeing others

blest scourge O’er unresisting victims; but a nymph, Which, feeling all the nothingness of

That melancholy, tender, yet sublime, Of mild, though mournful mein. Upon

earth, thy brow

Exalts the soul to Heaven; and, more Patience sits smiling; and whose heavy

than these, eye, Tho' moist with tears, is always fixed That pure devotion, which, even in the

hour on Heaven. Thou wrapps't the world in gloom; With tears of ecstacy-such tears, per

Of agonizing pain, can fill the eyes but thou canst tell Of worlds where all is sunshine : and

haps, at length,

As angels love to shed. When thro' this vale of sorrow thou These are thy gifts, O Sickness ! hast led

These to me Thy patient suff'rers, cheering them Thou hast vouchsafed, and taught me the while

how to prize. With many a smile of promise, thy Shall my soul shrink from aught thou

hast ordain'd? Unlocks the bowers of everlasting rest; Shall I e'en envy the luxurious train, Where death's kind angel waits to dry Around whose path Prosperity has

their tears, And crown them with his amaranthine Her gilded toys? Ah! let them still flowers.

pursue

The shining trifles! never shall they * The goddess of health.

know

pale hand

strewn

tear.

more.

Such pure and holy pleasures as await Their radiant eyes on this polluted scene The heart refin'd by suffering. Not to Drop on their golden harps a pitying

them Does Fancy sing her wild romantic song:

Prosperity! I count thy gifts no 'Tis not for them her glowing hand undraws

Nor thine, O fair Hygeia! Yet to thee The sacred veil that hides the angelic I breath one fervent prayer; attend the world;

strain : They hear not in the music of the wind If, for my faded brow, thy hand preCelestial voices, that in whispers sweet, pare Call to the flowers-the young and Some future wreath, let me the gift rebashful flowers !

sign; They see not, at the shadowy hour of Transfer the rosy garland ; bid it bloom

Around the temples of that friend, beDescending spirits, who on silver wing loved, Glide thro' the air, and to their harps On whose maternal bosom, even now, divine

I lay my aching head! and, as I mark Sing, in soft notes, the vesper hymn of The smile that plays upon her speaking praise ;

face, Or, pausing for a moment, as they turn Forget that I have ever shed a tear!

eve,

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

ALFRED_Gulielmo to Gulielma—Cynthia the saint free from sin," &c. are not sufficiently correct for publication.

Diogenes would be a valuable correspondent to the “ Spirit of the Press.'

Mr. Clark's statements of the Louisiana soil and products have been al. ready set apart for re-publication in this work. The editor heartily con. curs with Agricola.

Martin's portrait of a good wife is good enough for a likeness, but not sufficiently laboured for a picture. A devil by Raphael is better than a sign-post angel.

The Traveller's communications will be gratefully received. An early communication is requested.

Theron will be returned when called for. The Missionary Magazine is the proper repository for communications of this nature. The editor endeavours to avoid all polemics, whether religious or political.

There are several communications, on which, agreeably to the request of the writers, the editor is silent.

INDEX

TO

THE SIXTH VOLUME.

on

ADDISON and Steele, revolution Ariosto and his translatot, remarks
caused by their writings

279
Addison a punster

26 Aristocracy, the want of a natural
Adversaria 55, 129, 203, 246, 360 and efficient one, one great cause
Address of Rolla compared with

of the disasters of the French
lines by Cowper

203
revolution

359
Agriculture, state of in Caracas 331 Artificial tastes, remarks on

267
Almanacs, on the use of 424 Arts, why discouraged in America 77

an improvement of sug “ Arundel” and “ Henry,” brief
gested
426 notices of

185
American newspapers, invective Ascension, island of, curious singu-
against

434
larity respecting

433
-, objections
Avarice, an example of

378
to answered
437 Bas Bretons, account of

380
Anacreon Moore, his censures of Bank paper money of Great Bri-
America
220 tain, on the

163
-, answers to

ib. Banks, origin of many of them 165
> proper mode of

Bards, Grecian, remarks on 129
treating the reproaches of such Beauty, the value of

243
a traveller

ib. Beaver, Mr., extracts from his
Anecdotes, Turkish
187 journal

109
Anecdote of a candidate for a de. Betel shrub, description of

21
gree

377

used as a substitute
Anglo-German dialect in Philadel. for tobacco

427 Blair, Dr. Hugh, a sketch of 74
Antiquarian researches, utility of 288 Bleeding, South American mode
April, first of, curious theatrical of

377
anecdote

65 Blunders of the French constitu.
Arabian Nights, remarks on, and on ent assembly

353
Arabian tales in general 83 Books, on the number of

461
Arbor-unicus, account of the 270

different modes of calcu.
Areka, a species of palm, descrip lating their number

462
tion of

21

on the passion for collect-
wonderful effects of in ing

393
beautifying and preserving the Boswell, Cumberland's sketch of 183
teeth
ib. -, parody on

100
-, as a styptic, not inferior to Boxing and cockfighting, eulogy
the Peruvian bark
ib, of

266
where found

22 Brasilian Portuguese, a sketch of 129

phia, the

ib.

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