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of the frequently attendant cheru. is scarcely a head, figure, or group, bim, it consists in making the infant which impresses theidea of the awaken. countenance-at times so expressive ed impetuosity of mortal combat. The of intuitive perception--more com- figure of Mezentius presents a poor pletely its type. But, throughout his impersonation of the defeated and works, Raphael cannot be considered drowning tyrant; while the principal to be in general successful in the incident-the only feature which is Christ. There are, however, so far, not implied by such a subject, and the exceptions to this ; but he probably most efficiently produced in the work, attempted more (though this cannot refers to the refined miseries of civil be said to be apparent by study or la- and kindred strife_in the father re. bour) to pursue an idea, and more to cognising his slain son. present what was in conformity to In the Incendio del Borgo-the Pope that, than altogether to rely upon the arresting the fire of the suburbs of expression with which his powers Rome-the interest is altogether cen. coincided. These, however, although tred, to the disregard of the miracle, ample and eminent in many subordi. in incidents which exemplify affection nate characters, and necessary as part and duty. The School of Athens, in of the expression of the union of the a series of elevated characters, inculdivine and human in this instance, are cates the dignity of wisdom-of mennot sufficient for its whole. Nor did tal superiority, which is met by youth the intellectuality of Michael Angelo with eager and implicit confidence in effect it; here he again was deficient its dictates. The Dispute of the Sa. in what Raphael possessed.

crament presents numerous features of Next to these, the characters which worth, intelligence, and consideration frequently recur, and continue most the fiery zeal of theological dispudistinctly to exemplify the nature of tation has no place. The subject is his genius, are the young St John, St little heeded: the aspect and station Elizabeth, Mary Magdalene, Joseph, of the personages of the assembly and St John the beloved each of seem alone to be regarded. which present different features of sen But every work of Raphael might timent under the same influence. here be adduced. Each, more or less,

But, although particular characters exemplifies the sentiment--that, ruling may be specified as affording the most throughout the whole, sacrifices, or direct exemplification of what has probably, in the instance of their aubeen stated to distinguish Raphael, thor, does not fully permit the appreit must be kept in view, that the qua- hension of any other, which would lities peculiar to his genius cannot al. materially interfere with its predomi. most be said to exist more in one nance. As a combined whole, in their instance than in another; although, essential tendency, the works of Rafrom the subject of his works coincid. phael stand single and distinct among ing with it, it may be more fully dis- the various productions of the different played. What must be considered the arts. The living poetry of Homer spirit of his works, was frequently op- presents the self-boasted cause of posed to that of their letter or subject. Greek superiority--the union of the This, a reference to the Batlle of Cono demigod heroism of its imagined stantine, may exemplify. It cannot chronology with actual history. The be considered to be, in an elementary tragic poets of Greece exhibit their or essential manner, expressive of strife overruling power of the gods. Greek and confliction. There is too much sculpture is a perfected combination urbanity even in the anatomical ex. of reason and poetic sentiment in pression. The whole is a very inade. many various modes. Greek architecquate representation of the ruin and ture is poetry united to the rigidity of confusion of such a scene. In this it mathematical law. The Æneid poetfails in comparison with Le Brun's izes narrative ; Lucan and Lucretius, Alexander passing the Granicus, and Roman battle-fields and prevalent phiits value must rest upon its style and losophy. Dante and Michael Angelo signification in other respects. The evulgate the fluctuating strife of intelfigure of Constantine is without much lect. Raphael recognises moral dis. expression ; but so far as it does pos. tinction under the influence of reposed sess such, it is not that of warlike benevolence; from which, in common energy, but of the reposed power of with Pythagoras, Plato, and the evan. justice-he is preceded by divine mi. gelist St John, he derives his titlenisters. Throughout the whole, there the divine.

HYMNS TO THE GODS. .

BY ALBERT PIKE_OF ARKANSAS.

No. I.--To NEPTUNE,

God of the mighty deep! wherever now
The waves beneath thy brazen axles bow-
Whether thy strong proud steeds, wind-wing'd and wild,
Trample the storm-vex'd waters round them piled,
Swift as the lightning-flashes, that reveal
The quick gyrations of each brazen wheel;
While round and under thee, with hideous roar,
The broad Atlantic, with thy scourging sore,
Thundering, like antique Chaos in bis spasms,
In heaving mountains, and deep-yawning chasms,
Fluctuates endlessly ; while through the gloom,
Their glossy sides and thick manes fleck'd with foam,
Career thy steeds, neighing with frantic glee
In fierce response to the tumultuous sea-
Whether thy coursers now career below,
Where, amid storm-wrecks, hoary sea-plants grow
Broad-leaved, and fanning with a ceaseless motion
The pale cold tenants of the abysmal ocean-
Oh, come! our altars waiting for thee stand,
Smoking with incense on the level strand !

Perhaps thou lettest now thy horses roam
Upon some quiet plain : no wind-toss'd foam
Is now upon their limbs, but leisurely
They tread with silver feet the sleeping sea,
Fanning the waves with slowly floating manes
Like mist in sunlight: Haply, silver strains
From clamorous trumpets round thy chariot ring,
And green-robed sea-gods unto thee, their king,
Chant, loud in praise : Apollo now doth gaze
With loving looks upon thee, and his rays
Light up thy steeds' wild eyes: A pleasant warm
Is felt upon the sea, where fierce cold storm
Has just been rushing, and the noisy winds
That Æolus now within their prison binds,
Flying with misty wings: Perhaps, below
Thou liest in green caves, where bright things glow
With myriad colours-many a monster cumbers
The sand a-near thee, while old Triton slumbers
As idly as his wont, and bright eyes peep
Upon thee every way, as thou dost sleep.

Perhaps thou liest on some Indian isle
Under a waving tree, where many a mile
Stretches a sunny shore, with golden sands
Heap'd up in many shapes by Naiad's hands,
And, blushing as the waves come rippling on,
Shaking the sunlight from them as they run
And curl upon the beach-like molten gold
Thick-set with jewellery most rare and old-
And sea-nymphs sit, and with small delicate shells
Make thee sweet melody, as in deep dells
We hear, of summer nights, by fairies made,
The while they dance within some quiet shade,
Sounding their silver flutes most low and sweet,
In strange but beautiful tunes, that their light feet

May dance upon the bright and misty dew
In better time : all wanton airs that blew
But lately over spice-trees, now are here,
Waving their wings, all odour-laden, near
The bright and laughing sea. Oh, wilt thou rise,
And come with them to our new sacrifice!

No. II.-To APOLLO.

Bright-hair'd Apollo ! Thou who ever art
A blessing to the world -- whose mighty heart
For ever pours out love, and light, and life:
Thou at whose glance all things of earth are rife
With happiness-to whom in early spring
Bright flowers raise up their heads, where'er they eling
On the steep mountain side, or in the vale
Are nestled calmly. Thou at whom the pale
And weary earth looks up, when winter flees,
With patient gaze: thou for whom wind-stripp'd trees
Put on fresh leaves, and drink deep of the light
That glitters in thine eye: thou in whose bright
And hottest rays the eagle fills his eye
With quenchless fire, and far, far up on high
Screams out his joy to thee : By all the names
That thou dost bear-whether thy godhead claims
Phæbus or Sol, or golden-hair'd Apollo,
Cynthian or Pythian-if thou now dost follow

The fleeing night, oh hear
Our hymn to thee, and smilingly draw near !

Oh most high Poet ! -_thou whose great heart's swell
Pours itself out on mountain and deep dell:
Thou who dost touch them with thy golden feet,
And make them for a poet's theme most meet:
Thou who dost make the poet's eye perceive
Great beauty every where_in the slow heave
Of the unquiet sea, or in the war
Of its unnumber'd waters; on the shore
Of pleasant streams, upon the jagged cliff
Of savage mountain, where the black clouds drift
Full of strange lightning; or upon the brow
Of silent night, that solemnly and slow
Comes on the earth: Oh thou ! whose influence
Touches all things with beauty, makes each senso
Double delight, tinges with thine own heart
Each thing thou meetest-thou who ever art
Living in beauty-nay, who art in truth
Beauty embodied-hear, while all our youth

With earnest calling cry!
Answer our hymn, and come to us most high!

Oh thou! who strikest oft thy golden lyre
In strange disguise, and with a wondrous fire
Sweepest its strings upon the sunny glade,
While dances to thee many a village maid,
Decking her hair with wild flowers, or a wreath
Of thine own laurel, while reclined beneath
Some ancient oak, with smiles at thy good heart,
As though thou wert of this our world a part,
Thou lookest on them in the darkening wood,
While fauns come forth, and, with their dances rude,
Flit round among the trees with merry leap

Like their God, Pan; and from fir thickets deep

Come up the Satyrs, joining the wild crew, · And capering for thy pleasure: From each yew, And oak, and beech, the Wood-nymphs oft peep out To see the revelry, while merry shout And noisy laughter rings about the wood, And thy lyre cheers the darken'd solitude

Oh, come! while we do sound Our flutes and pleasant-pealing lyres around !

Oh, most high prophet!--thou that showest men
Deep-hidden knowledge : thou that from its den
Bringest futurity, that it comes by
In visible shape, passing before the eye
Shrouded in visions : thou in whose high power
Are health and sickness: thou who oft dos: shower
Great Plagues upon the nations, with hot breath
Scorching away their souls, and sending death
Like fiery mist amid them; or again,
Like the sweet breeze that comes with summer rain,
Touching the soul with joy, thou sendest out
Bright Health among the people, who about
With dewy feet and fanning wings doth step,
And touch each poor, pale cheek with startling lip,
Filling it with rich blood, that leaps anew
Out from the shrivell'd heart, and courses through
The long forsaken veins !-Oh thou, whose name
Is sung by all, let us, too, dare to claim

Thy holy presence here!
Hear us, bright god, and come in beauty near!

Oh thou, the lover of the springing bow!
Who ever in the gloomy woods dost throw
Thine arrows to the mark, like the keen flight
Of those thine arrows that with mid-day light
Thou proudly pointest: thou from whom grim bears
And lordly lions flee, with strange wild fears,
And hide among the mountains : thou whose cry
Sounds often in the woods, where whirl and fly
The time-worn leaves—when, with a merry train,
Bacchus is on the hills, and on the plain
The full-arm'd Ceres—when upon the sea
The brine-gods sound their horns, and merrily
The whole earth rings with pleasure then thy voice
Stills into silence every stirring noise,
With utmost sweetness pealing on the hills,
And in the echo of the dancing rills,
And o'er the sea, and on the busy plain,
And on the air, until all voices wane

Before its influence-
Oh come, great god, be ever our defence!

By that most gloomy day, when with a cry
Young Hyacinth fell down, and his dark eye
Was fillid with dimming blood when on a bed
Of his own flowers he laid his wounded head,
Breathing deep sighs : by those heart-cherish'd eyes
Of long-loved Hyacinth—by all the sighs
That thou, oh young Apollo ! then didst pour
On every gloomy hill and desolate shore,
Weeping at thy great soul, and making dull
Thy cver-quenchless eye, till men were full
Of strange forebodings for thy lustre dimm'd,

And many a chant in many a fane was hymn'd
Unto the pale-eyed sun; the Satyrs stay'd
Long time in the dull woods, then on the glade
They came and look'd for thee; and all in vain
Poor Dian 'sought thy love, and did complain
For want of light and life;-By all thy grief,
Oh bright Apollo ! hear, and give relief

To us who cry to thee-
Oh come, and let us now thy glory see!

No. III.- To Venus.
Oh Thou, most lovely and most beautiful!
Whether thy doves now lovingly do lull
Thy bright eyes to soft slumbering upon
Some dreamy south wind: whether thou hast gone
Upon the heaven now or if thou art
Within some floating cloud, and on its heart
Pourest rich-tinted joy: whether thy wheels
Are touching on the sun-forsaken fields,
And brushing off the dew from bending grass,
Leaving the poor green blades to look, alas !
With dim eyes at the moon (ah! so dost thou
Full oft quench brightness !)—Venus ! whether now
Thou passest o'er the sea, while each light wing
Of thy fair doves is wet-while sea-maids bring
Sweet odours for thee (ah ! how foolish they!

They have not felt thy smart!)
They know not, while in Ocean caves they play,

How strong thou art.

Where'er thou art, oh Venus ! hear our song-
Kind goddess, hear / for unto thee belong
All pleasant offerings; bright doves coo to thee
The while they twine their necks with quiet glee
Among the morning leaves ; thine are all sounds
Of pleasure on the earth ; and where abounds
Most happiness, for thee we ever look ;
Among the leaves, in dimly-lighted nook,
Most often hidest thou, where winds may wave
Thy sunny curls, and cool airs fondly lave
Thy beaming brow, and ruffle the white wings
Of thy tired doves; and where his love-song sings,
With lightsome eyes, some little, strange, sweet bird,
With notes that never but by thee are heard-
Oh, in such scene, most bright, thou liest now,

And with half-open eye
Drinkest in beauty-oh, most fair, that thou

Wouldst hear our cry!

Oh thou, through whom all things upon the earth
Grow brighter: thou for whom even laughing mirth
Lengthens his note: thou whom the joyous bird
Singeth continuously : whose name is heard
In every pleasant sound: at whose warm glance
All things look brighter : for whom wine doth dance
More merrily within the brimming vase,
To meet thy lip: thou at whose quiet pace
Joy leaps on faster, with a louder laugh,
And Sorrow tosses to the sea his staff,
And pushes back the hair from his dim eyes,
To look again upon forgotten skies;

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