P O E T R Y.



(Written on leaving my nutive Village in early youth.)


Adieu to the banks of the Dove!

My happiest moments are flown ;
I must leave the retreats that I love,

For scenes far remote and unknown :
But wherever my lot may be cast,


fortunes may prove,
I shall dwell on the days that are past,

And sigh for the banks of the Dove.


Ye friends of my earliest youth,

From you how reluctant I part !
Your friendship was founded on truth,

And shall ne'er be erased from my heart :
Companions perhaps I may find,

But where shall I meet with such love?
With attachments so lasting and kind,

As I have on the banks of the Dove?


Thou sweet little village farewell !

Every object around thee is dear;
Every woodland, and meadow, and dell,

Where I wandered for many a year :
These scenes which could rapture impart,

These seats of contentment and love,
And thee! the dear home of my heart

I leave ;-—and the banks of the Dove !


The hours of my childhood are past,

They seem even now as a dream;
They glided as peaceful, as fast,

As the waves of this beautiful stream;
They fled but their memory remains,

Nor shall from my bosom remove ;
As the fugitive flood still retains

Reflected the banks of the Dove.


But I go! for the Dove's crystal wave

Now murmurs commix'd with my tears;
My mother is laid in her grave,


hallow'd turret appears :
Ye villagers think of the spot,

And lay me beside her I love;
For here in my birth place forgot,

I'll sleep on the banks of the Dove.


Till then in the visions of night,

O may her lov'd spirit descend;
And tell me, though hid from her sight,

She still is my guardian and friend!
The thought of her presence shall keep

My footsteps when tempted to rove,
And sweeten my woes while I weep

For her, and the banks of the Dove !


By JOHN CLARE, the Northamptonshire Peasant.

Majestic pile! thy rich and splendid tower

O'erlooks the ocean with aspiring pride, Daring the insults rude of wind and shower,

And greeting them with presence dignified.
Firm as a rock yet seems thy massy power,

Though thou hast seen Pride's mightiest thrust aside,
And ages crumble at thy feet in dust,
And the proud sea claims as her rightfal dower
Wrecks of its thousand ships, to hold in trust

As dark oblivion's harvest of the storm ;Yet waves may lash, and the loud hurricane

Threaten thy cloud-capt dwelling, and deform The sky in glooms around thee :--all is vain ;

Empires may pass away, but thou'lt remain.

Smiling in sunshine as the storm frowns by,

Whose dreadful rage seem'd to thy quiet thrall As small birds' twitterings that beneath thee fly:

Winds call aloud, and they may louder call; For deaf to danger's voice, sublime and grand

Thou towerest in thy old majesty o'er all. Tempests, that break the tall mast like a wand,

Howl their rage weary round thee, and no more mpression make, than summer winds that bow

The little trembling weeds upon thy wall. Lightnings have play'd around thy brow of yore,

And left no footmarks :- :-so it seemeth now, Time proudly spares thee till that doom is hurl'd

That sears the ocean dry and wrecks the world.


By Mrs. HenANS.

I come to thee, O Earth!
With all my gifts :--for every flower sweet dew,
In bell, and urn, and chalice, to renew

The glory of its birth.

Not one which glimmering lies
Far amidst folding hills or forest leaves,
But, through its veins of beauty, so receives

A spirit of fresh dyes.

I come with every star: Making thy streams, that on their noon-day track Gave but the moss, the reed, the lily back,

Mirrors of worlds afar.

I come with peace : I shed Sleep through thy wood-walks o'er the honey-bee, The lark's triumphant voice, the fawn's young glee,

The hyacinth's meek head.

On my own heart I lay
The weary babe, and sealing with a breath
Its eyes of love, send fairy dreams, beneath

The shadowing lids to play.

I come with mightier things !
Who calls me silent ?-I have many tones
The dark skies thrill with low mysterious moans

Borne on my sweeping wings.

I waft them not alone
From the deep organ of the forest shades,
Or buried streams, unheard amid their glades,

Till the bright day is done.

But in the human breast
A thousand still small voices I awake,
Strong in their sweetness from the soul to shake

The mantle of its rest.

I bring them from the past : From true hearts broken; gentle spirits torn, From crush'd affections, which though long o'erborne,

Make their tone heard at last.

I bring them from the tomb :
O'er the sad couch of late repentant love,
They pass-though low as murmurs of a dove,

Like trumpets through the gloom.

I come with all my train ;
Who calls me lonely?-Hosts around me tread,
Th' intensely bright, the beautiful, the dread

Phantoms of heart and brain.

Looks from departed eyes,
These are my lightnings ! fill’d with anguish vain,
Or tenderness too piercing to sustain,

They smite with agonies.

I that with soft control
Shut the dim violet, hush the woodland song,
I am th’ Avenging One!—the Arm'd, the Strong,

The searcher of the soul !

I that shower dewy light Through slumbering leaves, bring storms--the tempest birth Of Memory, Thought, Remorse:—be holy Earth

-I am the solemn Night.


(N.B. The figures with crotchets refer to the History.)

A BERDEEN, earl of, his correspondence ing Geo. Green, his fellow-appren-

with the marquis of Barbucena, rela- tice, 136; T. Churchyard, man-
tive to the interference of Great Bri. slaughter, 306
tain on Miguel's declaring himself Cork : Leary and others, conspiracy to
king, 435

murder Mr. Low, &c. 359
Accidents: fire in a mine at Wanlock Exeter : Kezia Wescombe and Richard

Head, 67; fall of a room at the Quaintance, poisoning Samuel Wes-
Norfolk Arms, Hyde, thirty persons combe, 142
killed, ib.; six persons killed at the Lancaster : J. Latimer, murder of G.
Methodist chapel, Hermandwike, 77; Howorth, 54; Thomas Buxton, &c.
five houses crushed by fall of a rock, for conspiring to effect a marriage
at Nottingham, ib.; explosion of the with Miss Hickson, 297

Fulton, American steam frigate, Leeds : Hannah Atherton, child-steal-
102; explosion of a powder-mill,

ing, 92
Hounslow-heath, 104: woman and Lewes : the King v. Philp, cruelty to a
child suffocated in a privy, 129; the

servant, 86
• Patrick'steam-vessel injured by Leicester : Trimmer v. lord Hunting-
a hurricane, 138; the Dolphin,' tower, 324
convict-ship, sunk, and many convicts Middlesex : H. Milbourne, falsely act-
drowned, 178; fall of one of the bells ing as an attorney, 36
at St. Sepulchre's, 182; a boat cut Newcastle : Jane Jameson, parricide,
in halves by a whale, 185; four per-

sons drowned in fording the Clyde in Nottingham: J. Moore, stealing two
a cart, 186; (See also Fires.)

rabbits, 84
Acts of parliament, list of, 274

Norwich : John Stratford, poisoning
Adelaide, the, case of, for slave-trading, John Burgess, 140

Old Bailey : Clements, &c. piracy, 68;
Adrianople, treaty of, between Turkey Esther Hibner, &c. murder, 71; M.
and Russia, (219)

Jacobs, arson, _74; A. Finlayson,
Aërostation, Mr. Green's ascent at stealing sir W. Beechey's plate, 105 ;
Bristol, 103

E. M. Van Butchell, manslaughter,
Algiers, its quarrel with France, [172]; 112

French expedition against, [173] O.xford : S. Berry, stealing a pig, 44
Amphitheatre, at Arles, 33

Tyrone: T. Read, &c. murder of J.
Anticoste, number of dead bodies disco. O'Neill, 150
vered at, 115

Winchester : J. Stacey, murder, 320
Antiquities : discovery of a grand man. York : Miles v. Cattle, &c. to recover

sion at Herculaneum, 21; amphi. loss of a travelling bag, 65; J. Mar-
theatre at Arles, 33; two episcopal tin, setting fire to York Minster, 301
stone-coffins, Chichester cathedral, Atheist, a person declaring himself one,

not admitted as evidence on trial, 15
Arles, amphitheatre at, 33
Army, French, return of the number of Baird, sir David, death of, 242
officers, 191

Bankes, Mr. G., speech against the Ca-
Arndt, Von, death of, 210

tholic Relief Bill, [41]
Arson, trial of Moses Jacobs for, 74 Barrup, Benj. trial for attempt to mur-
Assizes and Sessions :

der Mary Mortlock, 13
Aylesbury: W. Dowsett, hurglary in Beechey, sir W., his plate stolen, and

the house of the Rev. T. Jones, 46 afterwards restored, by a servant,
Bury St. Edmund's : W. Vialls, wound.


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