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and be is destitute of the consolation, poor as it is, which and, what is worse, not one of the artists, as far as I can the latter possesses, that his old age will be sheltered, or learn, has yet availed himself of it. his offspring reared, by the humane institutions of his The old house of Gosford, where the noble proprietor recountry. In winter, too, his exertions are paralyzed by sides, is a large irregular building, with all that air of the rigours of the climate, and during this stern blockade, neatness conveyed by white-washing, surrounded by confined day after day in a dark smoky hut, destitute of various small enclosures formed by tall clipped hedges, the means of employment, and often of the necessaries of that give an appearance of snugness to the whole. Imlife, his situation must be deplorable in the extreme. Very mediately in front, on the opposite side of a lawn, of no frequently, in such cases, if money can be begged or bor- great extent, stands the main body of the new houserowed, or raised by joint contribution, smuggling is re building of more architectural pretensions than beauty. sorted to ; and though much has been done to suppress | It was built by the late Earl, but never completed ; and, this illegal traffic, it still holds undisputed sway in the as there is some defect about the materials, probably never wilder straths and glens. The nature of the country offers will. The length of the house is too great in proportion such facilities for carrying it on, and all classes of the to its depth; the eastern façade is plain and heavy; the people, high and low, are so partial to the beverage, that western more ornamented, and, but for the excessive one need not wonder at its continuance. In many places, slenderness of the pilasters and antae, well designed. The the exciseman dare not venture his neck among the cliffs old house, plain as can well be conceived, but massive and dens where Donald is at work; frequently, too, like and solid, on the one hand, and this unsuccessful attempt the mole, he labours under ground, and in winter the at something fine on the other, are no unapt representaheights and fords are impassable. The only chance of tions of our British noblemen in the earlier and later peseizure which the revenue officer has, is to intercept the riods of last century. The former proud and men and women as they sally forth from the “ bothy," withal affecting a sturdy deportment, that distinguished to vend the spirits,-a mean catchpoll employment, yet the wealthy independent baron from the empty-pocketed, one which the noblemen and gentlemen of Scotland, of a title-gilded creature, whose only element is a court. The former day, thought not unsuited to the genius of Burns. | latter more highly educated, and attempting to superin
With all his left and right-handed policy, Donald grows duce upon himself that Continental polish, of which God not rich_“ with all his thrift he thrives not." The and Nature never meant an Englishman to be susceptible. elder cottars, and those burdened with large families, may The two houses stand there as monuments of a change in be said to vegetate rather than live, and hundreds are at the tone and manners of society. this moment, I am persuaded, suffering hardships and The new house is, of course, not inhabited; and the privations, at which, in the sister country, Captain Rock three large public rooms, which constitute almost the and his followers would rise en masse. Still they are whole body of the house, are occupied by the late Earl's large strongly attached to their native hills : let them but re-collection of paintings. These roomsthree in number main in their huts, and they ask no more. The feudal are very large and beautifully proportioned. Left, as they chain is broken, but the force of habit and early associa- now are, it is difficult to say how they might look with tions bind the Highlander as firmly to his native strath the necessary additions of carpets, ottomans, chandeliers, as if it were impossible for him to gain a subsistence clse- and all the other requisites of magnificent apartments. where. Perhaps this is but another proof of the abject- At present their bare floors and white ceilings have rather ness of his condition ; so low has he sunk, that even the a desolate appearance; and the gilding along the springs desire to rise, to enjoy, or to excel, is dead or stagnant. It of the arches contrasts tawdrily with the whole. The is only, however, in large crowded cities, that the poor pictures likewise suffer from each room having a large are truly miserable. When men are congregated together side window instead of a top light. in large masses, and every avenue to labour seems closed, It would be absurd, or worse, to pretend, on the strength then the wretched being whom want is staring in the of one visit, to appreciate such a numerous collection of face, feels the utter helplessness of his situation, and be paintings. Some pictures there are which arrest us at comes the prey of despair. Then it is that the iron en once, and impress us more deeply the longer we examine ters his soul, and deeds are sometimes done at which hu- them. Some there are which blind even the most pracmanity shudders. But the Highlander is never so wholly tised connoisseur at first to their inherent emptiness ; destitute. On the hill-side, bleak though it be, he sees and others, at first rather repulsive, win upon us insenaround him the means of future subsistence-the cle- sibly, like a homely but amiable woman. Besides, some ments of humble comfort. Spring will again unlock the thirty of the best pictures have spent a winter in town, stores of the earth, and winter withdraw the last of his and have not been unpacked since their return. If, how. lingering forces. Then, when our burns and streams, ever, the reader do not think an old man's prattle tedious, instead of being choked with snow-wreaths, and silenced he may follow me through the different apartments. I by frost, are again murmuring by bank and brae—when begin with the dining-room : the larch and birch trees are full of leaf, and every The first painting that arrests the eye, which, on first
broomy knowe,” moistened with genial showers, is re- entering a room where there are a number of works of dolent of spring, the poor Highlander forgets his load of art, wanders in uncertainty from one to another, is a cru. suffering, and, hoping all will yet be well, exults in the cifixion by Imperiali. On closer inspection, we find it a change which scatters joy among the rational and irra- respectable, but by no means a masterly painting. It is tional creation.
only when we return to the door, that we discover it is the Inverness, April 2d.
prominent manner in which the crucifix stands out from the dense body of darkness, that struck us. It is a kind
of panoramic painting. The next is a painting by GenGOSFORD-HOUSE AND ITS PAINTINGS.
tileschi, over the fire-place-Bathsheba in the bath. It Our readers probably are not aware that the Earl is in the bold, unsubdued style of the Italian masters, of Wemyss, with a spirit and liberality worthy of his where no one colour fades into another. The drawing is rank, has intimated to the artists of Edinburgh, through less powerful. There is a finicalness in most of the atAllan, that they are welcome to visit, and even to titudes. Even Bathsheba, although the trunk is finely take copies from, his pictures. Had he refused such a drawn, and truly coloured, is not quite exempt from this. permission on application being made for it, or had heThe easiest figure is the negro standing behind her. even waited to be requested, we should have heard enough There is in this room a picture of the triumph of Conof innuendoes about wealthy men who shut up from the stantine, attributed to Julio Romano; but, to judge by man of taste treasures they themselves cannot appreciate the style and execution, it must be the work of some carAs it is, scarcely any one knows of the generous offer ; lier artist. There is also a " stag-hunt," by Snyders, re
specting the authenticity of which we decline giving an The hair, moustaches, and beard, are of the softest texopinion, until further examination. Four portraits, by ture; and their beautiful arrangement is evidently naSpagnoletto, are characterised by an exaggerated contrast tural and involuntary. The face is all thought and feelof light and shade, that would almost lead us at first view ingmall repose, and full of enjoyment-yet indicating a to set them down for mere daubs. A closer inspection capability of exertion far beyond ordinary inortals. shows, however, transparent colouring and fine drawing, with occasionally (as, for example, in the portrait of the starry Galileo and his woes) great nobleness of expres THE WRECK OF A WORLD.-A DAY-DREAM, sion. A landscape, near the Bathsheba, is said to be by
By H. G. B. Salvator Rosa ; and, whether genuine or not, is valuable,
Some say that gleams of a remoter world for its mellow tone, and admirable disposition of light
Visit the soul in sleep--that death is slumber, and shade. The lover of broad and rich humour will And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber
or those who wake and live.--I look on high; find a high treat in the Flemish Epicure of Jordaens.
Has some unknown omnipotence unfurl'd His face, broad and round, literally shines (under the in The veil of life and death? or do I lic Auence of music, rich dishes, and noble wines) with the
In dream, and does the mightier world of sleep
Spread far around and inaccessibly oil of gladness.
Its circles ? The Saloon contains sone pieces of sculpture, which
SHELLEY. do not afford much room for remark. There are two The impression it left upon my mind will never be able paintings, of which I could neither learn nor guess effaced, yet I cannot describe it. It was a vision of fearthe subjects, nor the master ; for they are evidently from ful, but glorious sublimity. I know not whether it was the same hand. Not the least interesting portion of the a waking or a sleeping dream ; it came upon me for the contents of this apartment, are some drawings by Sir Ro. moment with all the overwhelming force of reality. bert Strange.
There are mysteries in the unfathomable soul of man, We now come to the drawing-room. The Vertumnus over which, either in the calm of noon, or the solitude of and Pomona of Rubens is a fine painting, but requires night, we may well brood with awe, starting even from one far gone in the love of the art, not to be startled with ourselves, as if we carried within us a spirit to whose the homely, though characteristic, features of the pair, omnipotence we were forced to bow, and over whose and the anachronism of their dress. Near this is “ a wild and wayward will we in vain attempted to assert composition"_fruit and game by Snyders, figures by Ru- an influence. bens-worthy of a longer perusal than I could afford it. It was Sunday, and I was up by myself among the There are two Murillos—one, the flight into Egypt--the mountains. Not a human habitation was in sight, not other, St John, the good shepherd. Both have the artist's a human sound was floating on the hushed atmosphere. warm colouring and delicacy of tint. The figures in the But, through the deep stillness, low thrilling voice former are exact copies of every-day life—there is no ele- appeared to fill all space, a voice that seemed an inherent ration about the expression. It would have been a gem, part of the creation, for ever ringing on the finer nerves had it merely undertaken to represent “ peasants rest- of sense, like the distant and dying hum of bees, or the ing ;" but there wants that dignity and grace which we far-off murmur of the summer ocean.
The more you require in the incarnate Deity and his mother. The St listened to convince yourself of the profound quiet of John is more ideal, and betrays a finer feeling of the animated nature, the more you were aware of a certain poetry of the art, than any other work of Murillo's that rushing noise,—the whirl, perhaps, of a revolving world, we have seen. The “ Elijah, fed by ravens,” of Teniers, or the audible breathing of every living blade of grass, is chiefly valuable, on account of the beautiful clear land- and humble flower, and majestic tree, and primeval foscape which we see through the mouth of the cave in rest. Or might it not be the invisible passing of ten which the prophet is seated. There is also in this room thousand souls, eternally moving on and on in two unina landscape by Claude Lorrain, of which I could speak | terrupted currents—the one towards the heaven they " from morn till dewy eve;" but my limits will not ad-have gained, and the other to lighten up for a while the mit, and he must rest unnoticed, till I can devote a whole pure shrine of infantile bosoms? It matters not; it is a essay to himself.
sound to be felt, not reasoned on. I threw myself down There now remain only two paintings, of which I in- at random upon a spot unshadowed by a tree, green and tend to say any thing; and they are both portraits. There bright, under the immediate eye of Heaven. I lay like are, no doubt, paintings of this class, which have an in- a swimmer afloat upon his back in the blue solitude of dependent value of their own : but their chief interest some favourite bay. The mighty skies seemned rolling arises from the completeness which they give to our ideas on above me, with their gorgeous cavalcades of cloud, of distinguished characters. The pictures, at present tier after tier, in every great and fantastic shape that alluded to, are a portrait of Masaniello of Naples, and imagination coins,-palaces with domes of diamond and what is said to be an original portrait of Shakspeare. gold, immeasurable pyramids, thrones radiant with chryThe former is a full-length. Masaniello stands with a solite, leviathans of the deep, monsters of the air, glomatchlock in his hand, and a silver sword by his side, in a rious and colossal forms of bards, and silver-haired prodress of many and strongly-contrasted colours. His body phets, and monarchs on their majestic steeds careering is not bent--only slightly inclined forward. There is “a across the sun. listening fear in his regard”_his eyes have the ferocity and Suddenly a change came over the face of the firmakeen watchfulness of the cat--his mouth wears a vacant
Its rainbow lights faded away.
Its blue fields animal smile. The brow is lofty and commanding. The seemed to wither in the poisoned air. They grew pale, upper part of the face indicates capacious and powerful and yet paler ; a filmy veil appeared to have been cast intellect the lower, strong animal passions. His story before them ; and when I looked again, they had died forms the comment on it. He rescued his country like away into a wan and sickly white. The whole firma. a hero: he fell into habits of excess; and his followers ment was in rapid and tumultuous motion. The winds bad to kill him, like a mad dog, lest he should do mis were still speechless ; the same dead repose pervaded nachief. I would give a good deal to know, upon good ture; but far, far above me, the stormy rack was wheelauthority, that the other really is an original portrait of ing round and round in its inextricable confusion. The Shakspeare. It is just such a face as I could fancy hinn brightness of the sun-lit empyrean had passed away for to have had. The brow is broad, high, and beautifully ever. Darker and darker ;-every thing was quickly formed. The clear eyes beneath it swim in quiet delight. lapsing into gloom. Along the whole horizon my eye The mouth is rather large; the vermilion lips lie apart, rested on the melancholy edge of a rising canopy of indicating a quick perception of all pleasurable sensations. black. It spread upwards with a slow, regular, ominous
motion ;-upwards, still upwards, across the whole arch with a fierce and fiery glare. The solid earth heaved in of heaven. The light fled before it, but it pursued, and convulsive throes. The pyramids were rent asunder, and buried it up in its sullen folds. Not a ray, not a single the buried dead walked out. They were still dead, but ray was left ; not one luminous particle floated through their glazed eyes rolled horribly in mysterious meaning. inñnite space. But a change had been wrought upon Their cerements fell spontaneously from them, and their my sense of sight. I could now distinguish objects in livid carcasses looked yet more horrible in the gloomy and the darkness, as well as I could do before in the light. dismal light. Their features were those of every nation
I turned towards the earth, and looked round. I and tribe that the sun had ever shone upon—the brown scarcely knew it to be the same as that on which I had Arabian, the black African, the red Indian, and the white lived. I could see for miles,—for leagues,--away through Frank. They formed themselves into a long, an interthe deep obscurity that overshadowed it; but it was only minable procession, and in the middle I could distinguish one vast, unbroken, barren, lifeless waste. Its moun- a bier covered with black. Upon it lay the body of one tains, its woods, its streams, its cities, its moving and who had been alive for four thousand years—the wizard breathing things, were gone-gone like a cloud from the Time. He had witnessed the world's birth, and he had surface of a lake. Of all the human race, I only survi- ceased to exist on that very hour in which it had been ved. The desolation had been complete —too complete, destroyed. They were carrying him to his tomb in etertoo terrible for tears. I felt that a curse was upon me nity. They passed me, but I heard not the tread of their --the curse of loneliness. And the silence that dread- many feet; their lips moved, but the funeral chant came ful silence-worse, a thousand times worse than the roar not to my ears. Perhaps it was the imperfection of my of earthquakes, still continued. There was nothing to senses which cabined the powers of my soul. The meteor break it. The air had lost tbe attribute of motion ; the in the east moved on as if to meet them, Ainging down at instinct of life had perished, and there was not even the intervals a shower of dying stars. They journeyed away stirring of a growing flower to relieve the ear, though beyond the limits of sight, and all around me became again but with the mockery of sound.
dim and uncertain. I saw no more. It was now eventWhither was I now to flee? Was I doomed to a ing—a thunder-storm was gathering on the mountains, wretched immortality, wandering over a shipwrecked and I hastened homewards. and deserted world - All at once a disembodied shape These wild fancies, they say, are often the prognostics passed by me. For the first time fear fell upon my soul. of coming madness. If so—the decrees of destiny must The curtain of immateriality was withdrawn, and I be fulfilled. stood in the visible presence of the mysterious dead, whose nature was different from mine, and in whose
“ WHAT'S A' THE HURRY » feelings I had no sympathy. Perhaps they were the A REMINISCENCE OF THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. evil spirits of the former world, who, now that it had been changed into a charnel-house, were condemned still to trick Shepherd, was, some fifteen or twenty years ago, a
My excellent friend, now generally known as the Exfit along with it as it rolled its spectral and rejected form member of the Forum, then a popular debating society
. through the remotest regions of chaos. I was left in He had taken it into his head that he was an orator, and, doubt, in ignorance, and I trembled. Shadow after sha- in order to give greater effect to his speech, had planted dow appeared in the distance, came rapidly through the himself in a conspicuous and commanding situation in the dim air, and glided by me. All were of gigantic magni- gallery. The church (in Carrubber’s Close) was crowded tude, and frequently a wild unnatural expression was on
to excess. The President had proposed, and I had opened, their unsubstantial countenances. Their nambers, too, the question ;-it was, as I well remember, upon the comseemed perpetually increasing, and the speed at which parative happiness of the Married and Single State. Hogg they went was becoming greater. It was a tremendous,
was then unmarried, and a stanch antagonist. I had but magnificent pageant. Some were mounted upon vi espoused the side of matrimony, and found that the cause sionary steeds, black as ebony ; others moved on in cha- 1 advocated was not unpopular. Hogg rose in reply. riots and triumphal cars, like Roman generals at a tri- For a space, his appearance, though somewhat doric and umph ; unreal ships came sailing through the abyss above me, with all their white sails set, and apparently fall in uncouth, was rather imposing, and he dwelt amongst the wind. Noiselessly they came, and noiselessly they of the Gudeman of Auchtermuchty. I began, in fact, to
"squalling weans and scolding Kates" with all the address again vanished afar off
. They were followed by prodi- fear that the audience was disposed to go along with him, gious birds, larger a thousand times than the South Ame- when, all at once, he pa used, and, after some instants et rican condor, who soared in solitary pomp away into the breathless suspense, pulled from his pockets the contents darkness.
of his seemingly extempore address. A gentleman, wbo I wandered over the illimitable desert, and these occupied a situation in the body of the church, having obshapes and sights of awe grew familiar to me. Unex
served the pause, without seeing the occasion of it, and pectedly, like fakes in a snow-storm when its fury is imagining that the speaker had stopped as a mill pauses – wellnigh spent, they became less frequent and less con- from the want of an encouraging moving force-exclaimed, fused. At length I saw no more. A faint red light, as
in a tone and manner ludicrously resembling those of the if diffused from a few glimmering lamps that hung far orator_“Go on, honest man !" Hogg coolly snuffed the up in the black concave, spread a dim sepulchral glare candle, which was attached to the adjoining pillar, and, around me. I looked, and found that I was on a bound- opening out his papers slowly and deliberately, said, with less plain of ruins, stumbling over huge fragments hid the utmost composure, “What's a' the hurry?” among the rank and withered grass. Heaped together in When I see the whole world agog, and a-drive, and strange overthrow, I recognised the fallen towers of a-push, and a-struggle, in every direction into which perAthens, of Tyre, and of Balbec, the crumbling fanes of verted genius has sent it a wool-gathering, I am ever and Jerusalem and of Babylon, the eternal pyramids, the anon disposed to exclaim, with my old friend Hogg:sculptured obelisks, the mutilated sphinxes, and the jasper “What's a' the hurry ?” tombs of Palmyra, of Memphis, and of Thebes. They were all cast from their once immovable bases, and like the statues and images of a sacked city, they lay prostrate
LORD BYRON AND MR MOORE. along the earth, disfigured, broken, dishonoured, and ne In the last Number of the Westminster Review, there glected. It was a world's churchyard, and these were is an article, not very well written, on Moore's Life of the monuments that were piled upon the grave of man. Byron. It contains, however, the following passage, in I could see them all in the dim lurid light.
which there is a great deal of force, because it attacks Mr Suddenly a meteor broke forth, far away in the east, | Moore on the most vulnerable part of his work.
beartily agree with the sentiments of the Westminster Assist my quill! Assist my labouring muse, Reviewer in this particular :
That, like the sovereign trout of Tallo's food, “We find, in the letters of Lord Byron to Mr Dallas, Mr Struggles as dragged out by the rude horse hair, Ilodgson, and Mr Gifford, replies to expostulations and ar Assist me all, to hurl the vengeance due guments which these gentlemen had addressed to him on the On Hegg's audacious and devoted head ! subject of his infidelity. Now, if any of these gentlemen, Was it a little thing to take the name after his death, had lamented his infidelity in writing of Of one, his senior in the vale of life him to the public, it would have been consistent with their And lists of fame, and tie a fiery brand conduct towards him during his life. Mr Moore, and in all Mr Moore's account of their inter- Unto his tail to set the world on flame, course, there is not a vestige of any expostulation or argu
As Samson with the foxes ? To bring all ment on the subject addressed to him by Mr Moore. He, The host of poetasters on my head, therefore, comes forward now with a very ill grace, saying Who of them nothing knew? And, worst of all, that of Lord Byron, after his death, which there is no evi- My best and warmest friend the Borderer, dence to show, and not the least reason to believe, he ever He of the nut-brown hair and hollow voice, said to bim during his life. We think it quite of a piece Whom I esteem as brother. I have fish'd with Mr Moore’s general system of acquiescence with the influential in all its forms, to conclude, that, having first With this same Hogg in Tweed, even to its fountains, courted the favour of Lord Byron by silence, at least, on the Core water, Froode, and Tallo's sluggish stream, one band, he now courts that of the public by talk on the Yet nothing knew of him more than I saw other. The staple commodity of the present age in England,' A rash and inconsiderate plunging blockhead, says Lord Byron himself, 'is cant: cant moral, cant reli- And a most awkward handler of his lister. gious, cant political; but always cant. How much of this
I've prick'd the salmon out by tens and dozens, staple commodity there may be in Mr Moore's lamentations, while Hogg stood scratching his audacious pate, we shall leave our readers to judge. Lord Byron's letters And cursing his bad luck. Alas! how oft to Mr Moore contain not a syllable of replication to any shadow of an expressed solicitude on the subject of his inti. Misconduct so is term’d! But, at the last, delity. It was assuredly very unkind in Mr Moore not even I parted all and equal with poor Hogg, to offer his hand to extricate him from the • labyrinth in Because I liked the lad. Nay, I have sat which he was bewildered, — the eclipse in which he was Till midnight, teaching his unwieldy fingers labouring; more especially as, from the confidence with To touch the tuneful chords. Plague on the wight! which Mr Moore ascribes error to Lord Byron, he must be And this is my reward! With doggerel rhymes himself in the possession of something very nearly approaching the infallibility of the Catholic church. A man cannot To charge my guiltless name! Well, after all, say, unhesitatingly, that another is grossly wrong, unless in I grieve for Hogg, and wish he had not done it, the confidence that he himself' is perfectly right. We think For I would rather be ten men's warm friend it, therefore, a very unfriendly measure on his part to have Than one man's enemy. I charged him with it, withheld his short and easy method' from his deistical friend, And, like an honest man, he did confess while he was yet living and able to profit by it; and now The perverse deed. He wanted some home-thrusts to come forward shaking his head over him, and pelting his At certain poets, and he chose to place infidel memory with a hailstorm of metaphors, by way making a good orthodox presentment of himself in the eyes old David of the Lin 'twixt them and him. of the religious community. And we do not think that any
I call upon the literary world direct-dealing man, be his religious opinions what they may, To say if this was fair? But having now can admire the figure which Mr Moore makes on this occa- Clear'd up this matter, here I let him see sion,”
How an old man can write with his own pen:
This is my own, and freely I subscribe it. LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF
Linhouse, March 31.
GEM OF MY SOUL.
By Laurence Macdonald.
Gem of my soul! my thoughts are still with thee A VERY able and interesting account of the internal structure of the Sturgeon was read by Dr Craigie; in the course
Where'er my steps may wander,—near or far, of which he exposed several errors that Dr Munro, secun- O'er the blue mountains, or the trackless sea; dus, and Sir Everard Home, have committed in their ana 'Mid life's high revelry, 'mid this world's war, tomical details of this fish. In the absence of preparations Thou art the light-the solitary star and drawings, it would be a vain attempt to render Dr That gleams in beauty spiritually bright, Craigie's paper intelligible to the public.
Shedding a ray divine 'mid things that mar
The harmony of life, till to my sight
Thou seem'st the soul of day, the spirit of the night!
LINES FOR THE EYE OF MR JAMES HOGG, SOME- Gem of my soul ! the ocean's pearl, though pure,
TIMES TERMED THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. Sinks into dimness on that neck of snow! [Otr readers will recollect, that we some time ago published some And I've beheld that spotless brow obscure
highly poetical lines on the living bards of Britain, which were The brightest jewels that earth's mines can show; so contrived that they appeared to come from the pen of Mr David And when thy soul, deep in those eyes, would glow Tweedie. We have since ascertained that they were the produc With glowing thought with eloquence with love! tion of our friend the Ettrick Shepherd, and that Mr Tweedie has
They more than match'd the fairest things below, been in a state of high excitement and most just indignation ever
And even outshone the brightest things above, since he saw them. He has at last, however, forwarded to us a reply, in which he certainly gives the Shepherd a Roland for his Mingling in one wild glance the eagle and the dove ! Oliver, and all we wish is, that he had paid the postage from the Crook Ion. But poets continually forget these minor details. Gem of my soul ! be ever what thou'rt now, ED.)
By genius polish'd, and by nature fair ; Ye powers or retribution! Dark avengers
Were aught like thee accorded to my brow, Ol' innoce ice and genius degraded,
"Twould never be again the seat of care,
But heaven and love would rest for ever there! Light would illume my path, and the lone hour
Would never more be mine, my life t'impair;The darkest clime on earth would be a bower Of heavenly bliss, with thee its light-its love-its flower!
31st March, 1830.
We'll speak not much, but in joy I'll fold thee
Close to my beating breast, And there is not an eye in the world shall behold thee, I
But the eye that loves thee best.
THE COMING OF SPRING,
The heart! the heart! O! deep bliss lies
Unseen in its crystal cells;
Its tales of pleasure tells ;
Like a cloud at the dawn of day,
Mocks at the cold world's sway.
Not in the manner of Mrs Hemans.
Then, to-pight! to night-when the moon shines bright,
And the owl hoots from the tree,
Will fly over you and me;
That dance round the moon in mirth,
H. G. B.
THE GENTLE STREAM! THE HAPPY STREAM!
Srring comes in with pinks and parties
Night is forced upon mid-day; Every cake, and dish, and tart is
White with sugar-green with bay. Cold and headach—cough and hoarseness,
Sometimes coach'd, and sometimes drown'd, Wealth and beauty-wit and coarseness
Oh ! the everlasting round ! Laughing, dancing, flirting, speaking
Horrid nonsense all the night; Lovely dark-eyed damsels squeaking
Songs,-enough the French to fright;
Fiddlers libelling dying cats,
Puppies marching in with hats.
Negus, ices, smiles, and cakes-Love, and pride, and long flirtations
Silly girls and heartless rakes. Harps, guitars, and huge pianos,
Grander than their empty sound, Blent with songs of Julianas
Oh! the everlasting round!
May I have the pleasure of
All your tricks, my lord, by Jove !"-
“ Have some goose, sir?”—“ If you please."“ Pray, do take a little jelly.'
“ Ices always make me sneeze. “ Were you at young Jewson's concert ?”
“ Let me read that motto, dear ;"“ Where's the creme rouge ?"_" Here is one sort;" “ Drink wine, Monsieur?”—
you, sere. When Miss Wrymouth sings, just watch her
Shocking faces !" “ Oh ! tremendous !". “ I've lost my hat !" -“ Bring up your coach, sir !"
“ How it rains !". “ Good heaven defend us !". Thus the spring comes into fashion,
Where the gay and glad are found: Gods! it puts me in a passion
Oh! the everlasting round !
The gentle stream! the happy stream! that through the
greenwood shines ! When falls the sunlight through the trees in rich anů
fairy lines ! I see it dancing on its way, I hear its voice of song, I feel the summer breeze that plays its bordering flowers
among ! Alas! 'tis but in memory now, its devious course I see, It shines, it wanders, and it sings, in vain-in vain--for
To-Night! to-night! when the moon's in the sky,
And the owl hoots from the tree,
Will gently shine on me;
And the foolish fly dips his wing, Alone we'll stray by the secret way
That leads to the elfin ring.
The stars ! the stars! will twinkle above,
And the flowers will twinkle below; The birds! the birds! will be dreaming, love,
And the night breeze will kiss thy brow ;
I'll never roam, as ouce I roam'd, as careless and as free!