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No matter!-I have, and 'tis well,
A spirit that nothing shall quell!
And I know that, whatever my doom,
The laurel must spring from my tomb.
Literary Gazette.

ON AN IVY LEAF,

BROUGHT FROM THE TOMB OF VIRGIL.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

AND was thy home, pale withered thing,
Beneath the rich blue southern sky!
Wert thou a nursling of the Spring,
The winds and suns of glorious Italy?

Those suns, in golden light, e'en now,
Look o'er the Poet's lovely grave!
Those winds are breathing soft, but Thou
Answering their whisper, there no more shalt wave!

The flowers o'er Posilippo's brow

May cluster in their purple bloom; But, on the mantling ivy-bough,

Thy breezy place is void, by Virgil's tomb.

Thy place is void!-Oh! none on earth, This crowded earth, may so remain, Save that, which souls of loftiest birth Leave, when they part their brighter home to gain.

Another leaf ere now hath sprung

On the green stem, which once was thine ;When shall another strain be sung

Like his, whose dust hath made that spot a shrine! Literary Gazette.

THE SIGH.

BY S. T. COLERIDGE, ESQ.

WHEN youth its fairy reign began,
Ere sorrow had proclaimed me man;
While peace the present hour beguiled,
And all the lovely prospect smiled;
Then, Mary, 'mid my lightsome glee,
I heaved a painless sigh for thee!

When tossed upon the waves of wo,
My harassed heart was doomed to know
The frantic burst, the outrage keen,
And the slow pang that gnaws unseen;
Then, shipwrecked on life's stormy sea,
I heaved an anguished sigh for thee.

-But soon Reflection's power impressed,
A stiller sadness on my breast;
And sickly hope with waning eye,
Was well content to droop and die;
I yielded to the stern decree,
Yet heaved a languid sigh for thee.

And though in distant climes to roam,
A wanderer from my native home,
I fain would soothe the sense of care,
And lull to sleep the joys that were!
Thine image may not banished be,
Still, Mary, still I sigh for thee!
1794.

THE FOUNTAIN.*

BY SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ.
It was a well

Of whitest marble, white as from the quarry;
And richly wrought with many a high relief,—
Greek sculpture;-in some earlier day perhaps
A tomb, and honoured with a hero's ashes.
The water from the rock filled, overflowed it;
Then dashed away, playing the prodigal,
And soon was lost-stealing, unseen, unheard,
Through the long grass, and round the twisted roots
Of aged trees-discovering where it ran

By the fresh verdure. Overcome with heat,
I threw me down, admiring, as I lay,
That shady nook, a singing-place for birds,
That grove so intricate, so full of flowers,
More than enough to please a maid a-Maying.

The sun was down, a distant convent-bell
Ringing the Angelus; and now approached
The hour for stir and village gossip there,
The hour Rebekah came, when from the well
She drew with such alacrity to serve
The stranger and his camels. Soon I heard
Footsteps; and, lo, descending by a path
Trodden for ages, many a nymph appeared,—
Appeared and vanished, bearing on her head
Her earthen pitcher. It called up the day
Ulysses landed there; and long I gazed,
I
Like one awaking in a distant time.

At length there came the loveliest of them all,
Her little brother dancing down before her ;
And ever as he spoke, which he did ever,
Turning and looking up in warmth of heart
And brotherly affection. Stopping there
She joined her rosy hands, and, filling them
With the pure element, gave him to drink;

* Near Mola di Gaeta, in the kingdom of Naples.

And, while he quenched his thirst, standing on tiptoe,
Looked down upon him with a sister's smile,
Nor stirred till he had done,-fixed as a statue.

Then, hadst thou seen them as they stood, Canova,
Thou hadst endowed them with eternal youth;
And they had evermore lived undivided,―
Winning all hearts-of all thy works the fairest.

THE BIRD OF PASSAGE.

AWAY! away, thou Summer Bird,
For Autumn's moaning voice is heard,
In cadence wild and deepening swell,
Of Winter's stern approach to tell!
Away! for vapours, damp and low,
Are wreathed around the mountain's brow;
And tempest clouds their mantles fold
Around the forest's russet gold!
Away! away! o'er earth and sea,
This land is now no home for thee!
Arise, and stretch thy soaring wing,
And seek, elsewhere, the smiles of Spring!
The wanderer now, with pinions spread,
Afar to brighter climes has fled,

Nor casts one backward look, nor grieves
For those dear groves whose shade he leaves.
Why should he grieve;-the beam he loves
Shines o'er him still, where'er he roves,
And all those early friends are near
Who made his Summer-home so dear?
Oh! deem not that the tie of birth
Endears us to this spot of earth;
For, wheresoe'er our steps may roam,
If friends are near, that place is home:--
No matter where our fate may guide us,
If those we love are still beside us.
Literary Gazette.

F. B.

LINES

SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT OF THE

UNFORTUNATE

QUEEN OF FRANCE, TAKEN ON THE LAST EXAMI-
NATION PREVIOUS TO HER EXECUTION.

BY MISS HOLFORD.

AND this was she! The peerless and the bright,
The false world's darling! she who did possess,
(And held awhile in Europe's dazzled sight,
Glorious in majesty and loveliness,)

The Heaven-lent power to ruin or to bless!
Yes, this was she!—But mark ye, I beseech,
Who love the world,-mark this mute wretchedness,
And grave it on your hearts, for it doth reach
To regions unexplored by eloquence of speech!

Nature gave loveliness, and fate gave power,
And millions lavished incense,-poets hung
Their amaranth garlands o'er the royal bower,-
For Gallia's lily every lyre was strung;
Pride of all eyes, and theme of every tongue :-
Love, awe and wonder, were her ministers;
Life, and its hours, upon her fiat hung;

She held in poise a nation's hopes and fears :— [her's! Dominion, beauty, pomp, and the world's shout, were

Gracious and mighty. Yet there came an hour
Of desolation; and away it swept,

In one rude whirlwind, empire, pomp and power!
O'er the fair brow the hoary winter crept

Of sorrow, not of time.-Those eyes have wept Till grief had done with tears, and calm and cold, Tired with its own excess; in stupor slept,

Or gazed in frozen wonder to behold

The black and hideous page of destiny unrolled.

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