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The sea will not give back its prey-
And they were wrapt in foreign clay

Who gave the Orphan birth.
Stedfastly as a star doth look
Upon a little murmuring brook,

She gazed upon the bosom And fair brow of her sleeping Son 66 O merciful Heaven ! when I am gone

“ Thine is this earthly blossom !"

While thus she satma sunbeam broke
Into the room ;-the Babe awoke,

And from his cradle smiled !
Ah me! what kindling smiles met there !
I know not whether was more fair,

The Mother or her Child !

To whom belongs this Valley fair,
That sleeps beneath the filmy air,

Even like a living Thing ?
Silent,mas Infant at the breast,
Save a still sound that speaks of rest,

That streamlet's murmuring !
The Heavens appear to love this vale ;
There, clouds with scarce-seen motion sail,

Or 'mid the silence lie !
By that blue arch, this beauteous Earth,
Mid Evening's hour of dewy mirth,

Seems bound unto the sky.
O! that this lovely Vale were mine!
Then, from glad youth to calm decline,

My years would gently glide;
Hope would rejoice in endless Dreams,
And memory's oft-returning gleams

By Peace be sanctified.
There would unto my soul be given,
From presence of that gracious Heaven,

A Piety sublime ;
And thoughts would come of mystic mood,
To make in this deep solitude

Eternity of Time!
And did I ask to whom belonged
This Vale ?_I feel that I have wronged

Nature's most gracious soul !
She spreads her glories o'er the Earth,
And all her Children from their birth

Are joint-heirs of the whole !

With joy fresh-sprung from short alarms,
The smiler stretched his rosy arms,

And to her bosom leapt-
All tears at once were swept away,
And said a face as bright as day,-

“ Forgive me that I wept

Sufferings there are from Nature sprung,
Ear hath not heard, nor Poet's tongue,

May venture to declare ;
But this as Holy Writ is sure,
" The griefs she bids us here endure
She can herself repair !"



On the Spirit of Domestic Happiness.

Yea! long as Nature's humblest Child
Hath kept her Temple undefiled

By sinful sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a Monarch, and his Throne
Is built amid the skies !



BESIDE her Babe, who sweetly slept,
A widow'd mother sat and wept

of love gone by ; And as the sobs thick.gathering came, She murmur'd her dead Husband's name

Mid that sad lullaby.

ALBION! a tutelary Power is thine,
Who lifts thy name among the nations high,
Radiant as Seraph, though of earthly line,
The Eldest-born of Love and Liberty.
A tranquil glory sits upon her face,
That speaks a spirit worthy of her birth ;
Though bright with beauty, majesty, and

grace, Her chosen dwelling is the Cottage-Hearth. There calm she reigns, while sinless Bliss

beguiles The evening-hours with vows of endless

truth, While round her knees the lisping Baby

smiles, Or garrulous Age repeats the tale of Youth. Though calm her soul as Ocean's waveless

breast, Wo to that Tyrant who shall break her rest!

N. 3S

Well might that lullaby be sad,
For not one single friend she had

On this cold-hearted Earth ;



ing ray,


To a young Lady caressing her Infant

CELESTIAL Friendship! if yet ne'er proBrother.

fan'd O TAKE not, dearest Mary! from my view Thy hallow'd Shrine hath in my heart reThat gentle boy, who, in thy fond embrace main'd, Delighted smiling, lends more winning grace Still foster there, with undecaying flame, Unto thy airy form and blooming hue. Affections worthy of thy sacred name, "Tis sweet on these young eyes of liquid blue And give to cheer this dark’ning path below To gaze-and in the features of a face, The cordial joys congenial spirits know. Where nought of Ill hath stamp'd unhal. While o'er the Past I linger with a sigh, low'd trace,

And mark Affliction's storms impending To read “ whate'er is Lovely, Pure, and nighTrue.”

The airy visions of Life's opening day, Ah! happy Child! too soon the Early Dew And Manhood's brighter dreams all passed Of youth shall fade, and scorching suns de


Yet--ere the bosom's genial fires depart, The Vernal Freshness time can ne'er renew! And care and sadness settle round the heart Yet sip a while the Elysian draught of joy, Oh! yet before those Evil Days begin, Yet dream a little longer safe from harms When all grows dark without, and cold No ill can reach thee in these angel arms !

within E. Come, Heavenly Power ! with hope-reviy.

And chase the brooding shadows far away,

Pour on my soul thy sweet and tranquil To a revered Female Relative.


Like softest moonshine stealing on the night, LADY, when I behold thy thoughtful eye, And bid immortal Faith thy lamp illume, Dwelling benignantly upon tỉy Child, Undimm’d through life--inquench'd ev'n Or hear thee, in maternal accents mild,

in the tomb !

S. Speak of Departed Friends so tenderly. It seems to me as years now long gone by Were come again, with early visions fraught, And hopes sublime, and heavenly musings, caught

LINES ON THE GRAVE OF A CHILD. From those kind eyes that watch'd my infancy!

Ou, sweet my Baby! liest thou here,
Friend of my Mother ! often in my heart So low, so cold, and so forsaken?
Thy kindred image shall with Her's arise, And cannot a sad Father's tear
The throb of holier feeling to impart ; Thy once too lovely smiles awaken?
And aye that gentle Maid, whom sweetest Ah, no! within this silent tomb

Thy Parents' hopes receive their doom !
Of human care around thy soul entwine,
Shall with a brother's love be bound to mine. Oh, sweet my Baby! round thy brow
Aug. 29, 1812.


The Rose and Yew are twin'd together;
The rose was blooming—so wast thou-
Too blooming far for Death to gather.

The Yew was green--and green to me

For ever lives thy Memory.
To an Infidel.

I have a flower, that press'd the mouth

Of one upon his cold bier lying, All is in change yet there is nothing lost: To me more fragrant than the South, The dew becomes the essence of the flower O'er banks of op'ning violets flying ; Which feeds the insect of the sunny hour Although its leaves look pale and dry, Now leaf, now pinion ;-though the hills How blooming to a Father's eye!

were tost By the wild whirlwinds, like the summer

Oh, sweet my Baby! is thine head dust,

Upon a rocky pillow lying ? Would not an atom perish ; – Nature's Thy lullaby a Father's sighing !

And is the dreary grave thy bed power Knows not annihilation, and her dower

Oh, chang'd the hour since thou didst rest Is universal Fitness never crost.

Upon a Mother's faithful breast !
Is all eternal, save the Mind of Man Oh! can I e'er forget the kiss
The masterpiece and glory of the whole, I gave thee on that morn of mourning-
The wonder of creation ?-is a span That last sad tender parting bliss
To limit the duration of the soul-

From Innocence to God returning !
To drop ere its career is well begun,

Mayst thou repay that kiss to me,
Like a proud steed far distant from the goal. In realms of bright eternity!

D. F. A.

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Lalla Roolch. An Oriental Romance. lation, it is probable that many of our

By THOMAS MOORE. 4to. Lon- readers have not yet seen this delightdon, Longman and Co. 1817. ful romance, and will be obliged to us (Concluded from page 285.)

for an analysis of the “ Fire Wor

shippers” and “ The Light of the When we gave our readers an account Haram,” with such extracts as may of thè “ Veiled Prophet of Khorase enable them to judge for themselves san,” and “ Paradise and the Peri," of the poetical genius which they disthe romance of Lalla Rookh had just play. They must bear in remembeen presented to the public, and brance the wild and supernatural masome anxiety was naturally felt by the jesty of the Veiled Prophet-the pomp friends and admirers of Mr Moore, and magnificence of his array, when respecting its ultimate destiny. For waging war against tyranny and sue the first time, he had come forward as perstition--the demoniac and remorsethe author of a long and continuous Iess wickedness of his soul, rendered work; and while they, who saw in his fierce and savage by the hideous aspect former short compositions convincing with which nature had cursed himand satisfactory evidence that he had his scorn, and mockery, and insult, the strength and power of a poet, con and murder, of all the best hopes, and fidently hoped that his oriental ro- passions, and aspirations of humanity mance would entitle him to sit by the -his headlong and precipitous career, side of his loftiest contemporaries, whether in victory or defeat-his sino others, again, who had hitherto re ful and insane enjoyment of distrace garded him in the light of an elegant. tion, misery, and blood-and, finally, and graceful versifier merely, were his last mortal repast, where he sat afraid that he had rashly committed alone amid the poisoned carcases of himself in too great an undertaking, his deluded proselytes,--and that fearand anticipated failure, discomfiture, ful plunge into annihilation from the and defeat. On the first appearance, shipwreck of his insatiable ambition, therefore, of this work, there was a which left on earth only the rememe kind of doubting, and pausing hesita- brance of his name and the terror of tion and perplexity, in the minds of his guilt. In contrast with this mys-. those readers who think it better to terious. Personification, they will recriticise than to admire ; and who, in- member the pure and lofty faith of stead of yielding to the genial sense of the heroic Azim in the creed and des., delight which the inspiration of genius tiny of the Impostor-his agony on awakens, are intent only on the dise discovering the delusion under which covery of faults, defects, and imper- he had cherished such elevating dreams fections, and ever seeking opportunities his silent, and uncomplaining, and of displaying their own acumen and rooted despair, when he finds his perspicacity. But this wavering un Zelica the prey of sin and insanitycertainty in the public mind soon gave his sudden apparition, like a Warway to favourable decision ; the carp- God, among the triumphant troops of ing criticism of paltry tastes and . Iin the Caliph—and at last, when his mited understandings faded before that victorious career is closed, his retireburst of admiration with which all ment into solitude, and his calm and enlightened spirits hailed the beauty happy death, a gray-haired man, on and magnificence of Lalla Rookh; the grave of her he had loved, and and it was universally acknowledged whose vision, restored to former innothroughout Britain, that the star of cence and beauty, comes to bless the Moore's genius, which had long been hour of his dissolution. Powerfully scen shining on the horizon, had now and beautifully drawn as these two reached its altitude in heaven, and Characters are, and impressive when burnt with uneclipsed glory among its separately considered, it will be felt surrounding luminaries.

that the most striking effect is proAs, however, a two-guinea quarto duced by their opposition, and that must have a comparatively slow circu. the picture of wicked ambition, relent.

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less cruelty, insatiable licentiousness, shall the miserable wretch walk over and blaspheming atheism, stands more to that calm and dreamlike land where prominently forward from the canvass, his own infancy played? For, red when placed beside that of self-ne- though be his hands and his soul, he glecting heroism, forgiving generosity, was once like that spotless Child. The pure love, and lofty devotion.

poet feels-deeply feels that sentiment But if the wild tale of the Veiled of our Christian religion, which alone Prophet possessed the imagination of would prove its origin to have been our readers, and awoke all their shud, divine; and representing repentance dering sympathies, they will not easily as the only operation of spirit by which forget the mild and gentle beauties of our human nature can be restored from “ Paradise and the Peri," and will turn the lowest depth of perdition to its toit, from the perusalof the other, with first state of comparative innocence, he such feelings of placid delight as when supposes its first-shed tears not only the soul reposes on the sunny slope of to save the soul of the weeper, but, a pastoral hill, after its descent from by a high and mysterious agency, to the grim cliffs of a volcanic mountain. open the gates of Paradise to the Peri, Never was a purer and more dazzling as if the sacred shower alike restored, light shed over the dying countenance refreshed, and beautified, mortal and of a self-devoted patriot, than over immortal Beings. that hero whose heart's blood the Peri We feel that our remembrances have carries to Paradise. There is no need- carried us away from our present main less description-no pouring out of object. Yet we hope for indulgence. vague and general emotions none of Poetry is not framed for the amuse the common-places of patriotism ; but ment of a passing hour. The feelings the story of the fallen Hero tells itself. it excites are lodged in the depths of The situation is all in all; his last every meditative soul, and when it is sighs are breathed beneath the over considered what undue influence the shadowing wings of a celestial crea low-born cares and paltry pursuits of ture, sympathizing in her own fall ordinary existence seem, by a kind of with the sorrows of humanity; and mournful necessity, to exert over the lying thus by the blood-stained waters very best natures, it can never be a of his native river, with the red blade vain or useless occupation, to recall be, broken in his hand, what more beau-fore us those pure and lofty. visions tiful and august picture can be con- which are created by the capacities ceived of unconquerable Virtue? The rather than the practices of the spirit second picture, of the Lovers dying of within us, and with which our. very the Plague, is not less exquisite. The sympathy proves the grandeur and soul is at once filled with that fear magnificence of our destiny. and horror which the visitation strikes The ground-work of the “ Fire through its vital blood; while, at the Worshippers,” is the last and fatal same time, the loveliness, the stillness, struggle of the Ghebers, or Persians. the serenity of the scene in which of the old religion, with their Arab Death is busy, chaining the waves of conquerors. With the interest of this passion into a calm,—do most beauti- contest, there is combined (as is usual fully coalesce with the pure love and in all such cases) that of a love story i perfect resignation of the youthful and though we confess ourselves hostile victims, till the heart is left as happy in general to this blending of indivi. in the contemplation of their quiet dual with general feelings, as destrucdecease, as if Love had bound them tive of the paramount importance of to life and enjoyment. Yet the con the one, and the undivided intensity cluding picture of the sinless Child of the other; yet, in this instance, and the repentant Ruffian is perhaps great skill is shewn in the combination still more true to poetry and to na. of the principal and subordiņate ads ture. Never did genius so beautify ventures, and if there be an error of religion ; never did an uninspired pen judgment in such a plan, it is amply so illustrate the divine sentiment of a atoned for by the vigour and energy divine Teacher, What a dark and of the execution. The scene is laid frightful chasm is heard to growl be on the Persian side of the gulph which tween the smiling sleep of the blessed separates that country from Arabia, Infant and the wakeful remorse of the and is sometimes known by the despairing Murderer ! By what bridge name of Oman's Sea. The Fire Wor


the sea.

shippers have at last been driven to beams upon her soul in the midst of take refuge in an inaccessible rock his devoted warriors, in all the glory hanging over the sea, the last solitary of heroism and piety. She informs link of that stupendous chain of moun. him that he is betrayed. In all the tains stretching down from the Caspi- agony of hopeless love, he sends her,

From this den they hold out de- with a chosen guard, in a skiff, away fiance to the Emir al Hassan; and their from danger-he sounds the horn of chief, Hafed, the last hope of Iran, is destiny--the Arabs storm the ravine clothed, in the imagination of the ter that leads to the cliff-after a direful rified Mahommedans, with all the at- contest, they prevail-Hafed and one tributes of an infernal spirit. Among bosom friend alone survive, and drag his own followers, he is adored for his their wounded bodies to the sacred beauty, his valour, his patriotism, and pyrethe Chief lays his brother, who his piety.

The sacred fire is kept has just fallen down dead, on the pile constantly kindled on the summit of lights it with the consecrated brandthe cliff-all hope of preserving it from

“ And with a smile extinction is finally gone-but Hafed of triumph, vaulting on the Pile, and his Ghebers have sworn to perish In that last effort, ere the fires in its flames, rather than submit to Have harmed one glorious limb-expires." the Arabian yoke. 'A horn is hung over the battlements; and when it is heard

The death-pile illuminates rock and pealing through the solitary cliffs, it flood with its melancholy radianceis to be the signal of their voluntary and Hinda, leaning in ghastly agonies doom, and they are then to be mins against the mast of the skiff, beholds gled with the holy and symbolical ele- the tall shadowy figure of Hafed rement of their worship. The love story,

vealed before the burning pyre; and, which is of a wild and romantic chà shrieking out, “’tis he !" and springracter, is in some measure instrument- ing as if to reach the blaze on which al in the final catastrophe. Hafed, her dying looks are fixed, sinks into one dark midnight, has scaled a solitary tower, in which he believes the “ Deep-deep, where never care or pain Emir sleeps, with the purpose,

Shall reach her innocent heart again !” suppose, of putting him to death; And here, unquestionably, the poem though we are afterwards inconsist- has come to a natural conclusion. ently enough told, that had he found But Mr Moore is not of that opinion, his enemy, he would have spared his and thinks proper to make a Peri sing, life. He there finds Hinda, the young, 66 beneath the dark sea,” a farewell artless, innocent, and beautiful Ara- dirge to “ 'Araby's daughter." This bian maid—whose heart, soul, and dirģe is of course filled with every image senses, are at once fascinated by the with which a Peri living beneath the adventurous stranger. As yet she dark sea may be supposed conversant ; knows not whence he comes, whither and we never recollect to have seen so he goes, to what country he belongs. laborious and cold a piece of mere inAt last he tells her the fatal truth, that genuity, immediately, succeeding a he is a Gheber, and that on earth their catastrophe, which, though perhaps destinies must be severed. The Emir, somewhat extravagant and unnatural, meanwhile, ignorant of these nocture is both passionately conceived and exnal meetings, laments the decay of his pressed." The mind is left satisfied daughter's health and beauty, and with the completion of their destiny; sends her in a pinnace to breathe the theirs was the real and living struggle air of her native Araby. He first com- of high passions, rendered higher by municates to her his intention of that misfortune ; and that heart-rending, night storming, by surprise, the for- life-destroying, necessity in which they tress of the Fire-Worshippers, the se were inextricably bound and delivered cret access to which has been betrayed up to death, beyond all power of savto him by a captive traitor. The pin- ing intervention, is that which gives nace, in a sudden storm, runs foul of to the poem all its human interest, a war bark of Hafed, and is captured. and of which the pervading sense Hinda then discovers that her unknown ought not to have been dispelled from lover is in truth that terrific being our souls by the warblings of any im. whom she had been taught to fear, aginary creature, but should have been detest, and abhor ; but who now left to deepen and increase, -to fade or


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