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temper was inclined to render every individual happy around her,—SHE, alas! with her first-born Babe are ingulphed in the silent tomb! But

Now the cruel conflict o'er-
Fairer, brighter than before;
They bloom in renovated flower,

And blooming,-live to part NO MORE *!

LOVELINESS (says the Muse of OSSIAN) was around him as light, she saw the youth and loved him, her blue eye rolled on him in secret, and she blessed the Chief of Morven. Thou hast left NO SON, but thy name shall live in song; narrow is thy dwelling now, THOU who wert so great before!

The following stanzas are so tenderly indicative of a MOTHER'S feelings, that I cannot omit them:

A MOTHER'S ADDRESS TO HER SLEEPING CHILD.

Sleep on, DEAR BABE, with joy I trace
That smile upon thy infant face;
And in a parent's lov'd embrace

Enfold thee round:

Nor let the fond endearment chase

Thy slumbers sound!

* See A Tribute of Respect to the beloved Memory of the Princess Charlotte of Wales, delivered on the Day of Interment, November 17, 1817, at Worship Street, Finsbury Square. Second Edition. By J. EVANS.

May HEAV'N its choicest influence shed,
Cherub, on thee-O! may it spread

With flowers the path which thou may'st tread,
Ev'n to the tomb;

And VIRTUE's laurel on thy head

For ever bloom!

Whilst thus for thee the anxious prayer
TO HEAV'N is rais'd, that it may spare
Thy youthful heart from every snare
Of weal or woe;

O! cherish for this guardian care
A grateful glow!

Thy FILIAL LOVE my life shall cheer,
And o'er my dark funereal bier
Say-wilt thou drop the bitter tear,
Vain though it be?

To all I wish my memory dear,

But most to THEE!

SMITHERS.

I conclude with a just and beautiful encomium on the Female Sex, from a poem entitled-INFANCY, a Didactic Poem in Six Books. By the late Hugh Downman, M. D. of Exeter.

How high the rank in life of WOMANKIND!
Their station how important.-Hapless he
Who lives unconscious of their worth; the Fool
Of grosser sense, or airy libertine

Who draws his judgment from the forward few ;
Or yielding weak, and dares with impious tongue
Pronounce them all the slaves of Vanity,

By Passion ever led, by Flattery won;

Their frame like ours, but with etherial touch
More delicately limb'd. The same their souls;

More soft, more sensitive, and more refin'd
Each uncontaminated Briton owns,

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And feels their virtues. Polishers of life!
Sweetners of savage care-who tune the breast
To harmony, or prompt to glorious deeds,
And emulative toil. To Friendship's flame,
To Gratitude, how exquisitely true!
Who tender confidence repay with Love,
Integrity unshaken,-Faith most pure;
Warm, zealous Loyalty. With honour clad
As with a robe, and beauteous ornaments
Of unaffected modesty! Well-skilled
To form the growing soul, and on its young
And opening bud to fix the impression deep
Of every generous thought which stimulates
The FUTURE MAN to love of parents, friends,
Offspring, and sacred Freedom, while as yet
Corruption suffers in her favourite Isle
The goddess to reside. Far hence away
Ye grovelling sensualists to eastern climes,
Where Lust and barbarous Jealousy immure
The passive slaves! What joy can Beauty give
When strays the unfetter'd will? Or when in calm
And thinking hour, the mind unsatisfied
Contemns the loosed objects of desire
Pining for sympathy-and feels a void
Which roving licence never can supply?

The wanton dance, the soft voluptuous strain
Sung to the melting viol, nought inspires
But languor and disgust. Mistaken men!
Who lose the better portion of their time,
The dear domestic hour! the converse bland,
Fruition of the soul; Love's balmy zest
Which never cloys; Parental cares conjoin'd;
Divided griefs; Reciprocal delights;

The life of NATURE, Reason, VIRTUE, BLISS!

THE SCHOOL-BOY.

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The whining School-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school!

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