The true friend's heart as yonder lake is calm;

Pure as yon snows, but firm as mountain rocks: His voice is as the glowing morn, a balm

To the hurt mind that's felt the world's rough shocks. His looks as cheerful as the sun's bright locks. This high-soul'd being fearlessly will shield

A falling brother from the scorner's mocks.

Oh! when the book of life shall be unseal'd
How gladly shall his name by Angels be reveal'd!

Evils there are, but many self-created

In this our busy world; why should we grieve
And murmur at our destiny, when fated

To be alone; why should we learn to weave
The web of thought too finely, to deceive

Ourselves, not others; still where'er thou art,

'Mid cities, or near cottages, relieve

The poor man's wants, thou wilt perform thy part

Well on the stage of life, and blunt e'en envy's dart!

Adieu, sweet country; of Helvetia's wrongs,

Even in my childhood, have I thought, and wept
When the war-cry was heard, where late the songs
Of Innocence spread mirth around; where slept
The child securely; where the goat-herd kept
His flocks untroubled, then the spoiler came,

Treading in innocent blood where'er he stept

Hell's horrid offspring-Anarchy his name:
Affecting Freedom's voice fair Freedom's cause to shame.

Had France no Washingtons, Timoleons then

To point the way to Virtue's temple? read
The latest records of Corinna's pen *

And Gallia's woes will make thy bosom bleed.
The plant she nourish'd was a poisonous weed;

Her friends were foes, noue prized the golden mean;

Each wild lawgiver had his separate creed;

All spoke in vain, the soldier rush'd between,

Th' imperial consul's pomp then closed th' eventful scene.

Madame de Stael.

All things have their alloy; go southwards on,
See Italy, with varied landscapes gay,

A waste of sweets; the sun ne'er shone upon
A lovelier country, with a brighter ray;

Her very winter's softer than our May;
What are its natives now? but imps from hell
Peopling a Paradise 6; though kinglings pray,
Those who degrade the human mind, as well
As Satan's self, 'gainst God's high purposes rebel!

Great Loyola! how well thy sons succeed,
Dwarfing man's intellect to tread him down!
Tis not enough that he must toil and bleed
To win for fellow-man, perchance, a crown;
But Superstition scares him with her frown.

Poor wretch, to beg, to flatter, stab, or steal;
Such are the vices Jesuits spare, alone

He loves; alas, to whom shall we appeal;

Oh! when will monarchs learn to prize the general weal?

Here is Religion rob'd in rich attire,

To please the eye, not meliorate the heart; Her pageantries, her glittering shrines, inspire

Devotion, in which morals have no part.

Does God delight in works of human mart? He heedeth not the labour of man's hands;

He loves a soul devoid of guile and art; Fear him, and love him, honour his commands, But his all-perfect state no earthly pomp demands !

Quick are the Italian's feelings, prompt to wrong,
Why may they not be then alive to good?
In this sweet land of Music and of song,

The powers of the mind cannot be rude.

What then doth cause revenge, and acts of blood?

The vivid spirit that delights the muse,

Not the less willing, when she's fiercely woo'd;

Those impulses, how dangerous their abuse,

Which when directed well heroic acts produce:

'Twas here the light of science first broke forth

Amid the Gothic gloom of former ages;

Strange change, that light's diffused throughout the earth

Yet Barbarism's evil genius rages

E'en in a country long since famed for sages.

Invasions, civil wars, the jealous strife

Of princes, sully here th' historian's pages.

Awake, Italia's sons, awake to life;

Throw off your foreign yoke, but scorn the inglorious knife.

Where Mind to marble gives a living grace,

Where Music's inspiration's fully felt:

Where Poetry all passions doth embrace

In language form'd to rouse the soul, or melt.
Where too the Muse of painting long has dwelt,
Can there be wanting courage-wakening men
Who have not to imperial tyrants knelt?

Be what ye were in ages past again,

Brave Milanese '; the spoilers must re-seek their den.