And pure,

from further intercourse ensued; Leading such companion, I that gilded dome, This—if delightful hopes, as heretofore,

Yon minarets, would gladly leave for his wors Inspire the serious song, and gentle hearts

home.” Cherish, and lofty minds approve the past)

“Feeling tunes your voice, fair princess! My future labours may not leave untold.

And your brow is free from scorn,
Else these words would come like mockers,

Sharper than the pointed thorn."

“Whence the undeserved mistrust? Too wide

apart The subject of the following poem is from the Orlandus of Our faith hath been,-0, would that eyes could see

the author's friend, Kenelm Henry Digby; and the liberty is taken of inscribing it to him as an acknow

the heart!" ledgement, however unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numerous and valuable writings,

Tempt me not, I pray; my doom is illustrative of the piety and chivalry of the olden time.

These base implements to wield ;
You have heard " a Spanish lady

Rusty lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee,
How she wooed an English man;"*

Ne'er assoil my cobwebb'd shield!
Hear now of a fair Armenian,

Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
Daughter of the proud soldàn;

Nor her who thinking of me there counts widor'!

hours.” How she loved a Christian slave, ar told her pain By word, look, deed, with hope that he might love “Prisoner! pardon youthful fancies; again.

Wedded? If you can, say no ! “ Pluck that rose, it moves my liking,”

Blessed is and be your consort;

Hopes I cherished let them go!
Said she, listing up her veil;
“ Pluck it for me, gentle gardener,

Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free,
Ere it wither and grow pale.”

Without another link to my felicity.” « Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take “ Wedded love with loyal Christians, From twig or bed an humbler flower, e'en for your Lady, is a mystery rare; sake.”

Body, heart, and soul in union,
“Grieved am I, submissive Christian!

Make one being of a pair.”
To behold thy captive state ;

“ Humble love in me would look for no retur, Women in your land may pity

Soft as a guiding star that cheers, but cannot burn." (May they not?) th' unfortunate."

“Gracions Allah! by such title “ Yes, kind lady! otherwise man could not bear

Do I dare to thank the God,
Life, which to every one that breathes is full of Him, who thus exalts thy spirit,

Flower of an unchristian sod!
“ Worse than idle is compassion,

Or hast thou put off wings which thou in heaven If it end in tears and sighs;

dost wear? Thee from bondage would I rescue

What have I seen, and heard, or dreamt? where And from vile indignities ;

am I? where?" Nurtured, as thy mien bespeaks, in high degree,

Here broke off the dangerous converse: Look up—and help a hand that longs to set thee

Less impassion’d words might tell free."

How the pair escaped together,
“ Lady, dread the wish, nor venture

Tears not wanting, nor a knell
In such peril to engage ;

Of sorrow in her heart wbile through her father's
Think how it would stir against you

door, Your most loving father's rage ;

And from her narrow world, she pass'd for ever. Sad deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame, Should troubles overflow on her from whom it

But affections higher, holier,

Urged her steps; she shrunk from trust “Generous Frank! the just in effort

In a sensual creed that trampled
Are of inward peace secure ;

Woman's birthright into dust.
Hardships for the brave encounter'd,

Little be the wonder then, the blame be none,
E’en the feeblest may endure:

If she, a timid maid, hath put such boldness on. If Almighty Grace through me thy chains unbind,

Judge both fugitives with knowledge: My father for slave's work may seek a slave in

In those old romantic days mind.”

Mighty were the soul's commandments “ Princess, at this burst of goodness,

To support, restrain, or raise. My long frozen heart grows warm !” Foes might hang upon their path, spakes rustle “ Yet you make all courage fruitless,

near, Me to save from chance of harm;

But nothing from their inward selves had they to

fear. * See, in Percy's Reliques, that fine old ballad, “The Spanish Lady's Love;" from which poem the form of

Thought infirm ne'er came between them, stanza, as suitable lo dialogue, is adopted.

Whether printing desert sands




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W25 amrtaat stars, or getering Cristian metaress sush'for all the path of life,
Pures! frait with soul tar;

W bibving mst, sbruid wueliest love, their only ke two retrs that in the cold man.' str.fe.
Best with the breeze their bers, beside a crystai

Mete membento of that union
In 2 axın ekare survives,

Where a cras'ezz't knight lies sculptured
On a freidiy dark rexing,

As te*wees two weldet wives-
They at length for Velice siker;

Figures with ar ria: 6.7os círace and birth, There, when they had erined their soyage, And the vain rurk the perims bore while yet on ne, wodaniy on the per

Wars'a in trgu irun the east, teheid his lord,
Stown cd etary'd bus kuses for joy, pot utter-

ice word
Mitnl was the sudden transport;

Breathles que los elow'd fast,

List, ye wbu pas4 by Lyu'ph's tower*
Years estructing to a moment,
Fach word greedier than the last;

At eve; bow sfty then

Doth Aira force, that torrent boarse, "He there to the exodus, friend! return with

Speak from the wody glen! speed,

Fit music for a solemn vale! And of the stranger speak by whom ber lord was

And blier seems the ground freed.

To bim who catches on the gale
us for any thret I, who might have languish'd, The spirit of a mournfal tale,
Dread, and pined till life was spent,

Embodied in the sund.
Row before the gates of Stolberg
My miserer 0,14 present

Not far from that fair site whereon
Pin a crowing recompense, the precioue grace

The pleasure house is rear'd, Of Der who is my heart sull hold her ancient place.

As story says, in antique days,

A stert-low'd house appear'd;
u Make it known that my companion

Foil to a jewel rich in light,
Is of royal Eastern blad,

There set, and guarded well;
Thirsuing after all perfection,

Cage for a bird of plumage bright,
Innocent, and meek, and good,

Sweet-voiced, oor wishing for a flight
Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night

Beyond her native dell. Will Holy Church disperse by beams of gospel

To win this bright bird from her cage,

To make this gem their own,
Swiftly went that gray-hair'd servant,

Carne barons bold, with store of gold,
Bon return'd a trusty page

And knights of high renown;
Charged with greetings, benedictions,

But one she prized, and only one;
Thanks and praises, each a gage

Sir Eglamore was he;
Por a sunny thought to cheer the stranger's way,

Full happy season, when was known,
Her virtugue scruples to remove, her sears allay.

Ye dales and hill«! to you alone
Fancy (while, to banners floating

Their mutual loyalty-
High on Stolberg's castle walls,

Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Deafening noise of welcome mounted,

Thy brook, and bowers of bolly;
Trumpete, drums, and atabols)

Where passion caught what nature taught, The devout embraces still, while such tears fell

That all but love is folly;
As made a merting seem most like a dear farewell.

Where fact with fancy stoop'd to play,
Through a haze of human nature,

Doubt came not, nor regret;
Glorified by heavenly light,

To trouble hours that wing'd their way,
Look'd the beautiful deliverer

As if through an immortal day
On that overpowering night,

Whose sun could never set.
While across her virgin cheek pure blushes stray'd,

But in old times love dwelt not long
Por every ter der sacrifice her heart had made.

Sequester'd with repose ;
On the ground the weeping countess

Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Koelt, and kiss'd the stranger's hand;

Fann'd by the breath of foes.
Act of soul-devoted homage,

“A conquering lance is beauty's test,
Pledge of an eternal band:

And proves the lover true;" Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,

So spake Sir Eglamore, and press'd
Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify. The drooping Emma to his breast,

And look'd a blind adieu.
Constant to the fair Armenian,
Gentle pleasures round her moved,

* A pleasure house built by the late Duke of Norfolk Like a tutelary spirit

upon the banks of Ullswater. Force is the word used in Reverenced, like a sister loved.

the Lake District for waterfall.



They parted. Well with him it fared

Hush, hush, the busy sleeper see! Through wide-spread regions errant;

Perplex'd her fingers seem, A knight of proof in love's behoof,

As if they from the holly tree The thirst of fame his warrant:

Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly And she her happiness can build

Flung from her to the stream. On woman's quiet hours;

What means the spectre ? Why intent Though faint, compared with spear and shield,

To violate the tree, The solace beads and masses yield,

Thought Eglamore, by which I swore And needle-work and flowers.

Unfading constancy? Yet blest was Emma when she heard

Here am I, and to-morrow's sun, Her champion's praise recounted ;

To her I left, shall prove Though brain would swim, and eyes grows dim,

That bliss is ne'er so surely won And high her blushes mounted;

As when a circuit has been run Or when a bold heroic lay

Of valour, truth, and love. She warbled from full heart;

So from the spot whereon he stood, Delightful blossoms for the May

He moved with stealthy pace; Of absence! but they will not stay,

And, drawing nigh, with his living eye, Born only to depart.

He recognised the face; Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills

And whispers caught, and speeches small, Whatever path he chooses ;

Some to the green-leaved tree, As if his orb, that owns no curb,

Some mutter'd to the torrent-fall, Received the light hers loses.

“ Roar on, and bring him with thy call; He comes not back; an ampler space

I heard, and so may he !" Requires for nobler deeds;

Soul-shatter'd was the knight, nor knew He ranges on from place to place,

If Emma's ghost it were, Till of his doings is no trace

Or boding shade, or if the maid But what her fancy breeds.

Her very self stood there. His fame may spread, but in the past

He touch’d, what follow'd who shall tell? Her spirit finds its centre;

The soft touch snapp'd the thread Clear sight she has of what he was,

Of slumber-shrieking, back she fell, And that would now content her.

And the stream whirld her down the dell “Still is he my devoted knight?”

Along its foaming bed. The tear in answer flows;

In plunged the knight! when on firm grouna Month falls on month with heavier weight; The rescued maiden lay, Day sickens round her, and the night

Her eyes grew bright with blissful light, Is empty of repose.

Confusion pass'd away;

She heard, ere to the throne of grace
In sleep she sometimes walk'd abroad,

Her faithful spirit flew,
Deep sighs with quick words blending,
Like that pale queen whose hands are seen

His voice; beheld his speaking face,
With fancied spots contending;

And, dying, from his own embrace,

She felt that he was true.
But she is innocent of blood, -
The moon is not more pure

So was he reconciled to life ;
That shines aloft, while through the wood

Brief words may speak the rest; She thrids her way, the sounding flood

Within the dell he built a cell, Her melancholy lure !

And there was sorrow's guest;

In hermit's weeds repose he found. While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,

From vain temptations free; And owls alone are waking,

Beside the torrent dwelling-bound In white array'd, glides on the maid,

By one deep heart-controlling sound,
The downward pathway taking,

And awed to piety.
That leads her to the torrent's side
And to a holly bower;

Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,
By whom on this still night descried ?

Nor fear memorial lays, By whom in that lone place espied ?

Where clouds that spread in solemn shade By thee, Sir Eglamore !

Are edged with golden rays !

Dear art thou to the light of heaven, A wandering ghost, so thinks the knight,

Though minister of sorrow; His coming step has thwarted,

Sweet is thy voice at pensive even; Beneath the boughs that heard their vows, And thou, in lover's hearts forgiven, Within whose shade they parted.

Shall take thy place with Yarrow!


WILLIAM LIsle Bowles, of an ancient family in /comparison with those of Dr. Watts, and which are the county of Wilts, was born in the village of admirably calculated to answer the benevolent purKing's-Sutton, Northamptonshire –

:-a parish of pose for wbich they are designed. which his father was vicar-on the 24th of Sep- Mr. Bowles some years ago attracted considerable tember, 1762. His mother was the daughter of attention by his controversy with Byron on the Dr. Richard Grey, chaplain to Nathaniel Crew, subject of the writings of Pope. He advanced cerBishop of Durham. The poet received his early tain opinions which went to show that he consieducation at Winchester school; and he rose to be dered him “no poet,” and that, according to the the senior boy. Ile was entered at Trinity Col-“ invariable principles” of poetry, the century of lege, Oxford, where he obtained the Chancellor's fame which had been accorded to the “ Essay on prize for a Latin poem, and where, in 1792, he took Man” was unmerited. Campbell opened the dehis degree. On quitting the university he entered fence; and Byron stepped forward as a warm and into holy orders, and was appointed to a curacy in somewhat angry advocate. A sort of literary warWiltshire ; soon afterwards he was preferred to a fare followed; and a host of pamphlets on both siving in Gloucestershire; in 1803 he became a sides were rapidly issued. As in all such cases, prebend of Salisbury; and the Archbishop Moore the question remains precisely where it did. presented him with the rectory of Bremhill, Wilts, Bowles, however, though he failed in obtaining a where he has since constantly resided, -only now victory, and made, we imagine, few converts to and then visiting the metropolis,---enjoying the bis “invariable principles,” manifested during the country and its peculiar sources of profitable de contest so much judgment and ability, that his light; performing with zeal and industry his paro- reputation as a critic was considerably enhanced. chial duties; and beloved by all who dwell within The poetry of Bowles has not attained a high or approach the happy neighbourhood of his resi- degree of popularity. He is appreciated more for dence.

the purity of his sentiments than for any loftiness The Sonnets of Bowles (his first publication) of thought or richness of fancy. He has never appeared in 1793. They were received with con- dealt with themes that “stir men's minds;" but siderable applause; and the writer, if he had ob-has satisfied himself with inculcating lessons of tained no other reward for his labours, would have sound morality, and has considered that to lead the found ample recompense in the fact that they heart to virtue is the chiefest duty of the Muse. contributed to form the taste and call forth the His style is, as Coleridge described it nearly fifty genius of Coleridge, whom they “ delighted and years ago," tender yet manly;" and he has uninspired.” The author of " Christabel” speaks of doubtedly brought the accessories of harmonious himself as having been withdrawn from several versification and graceful language to the aid of perilous errors “ by the genial influence of a style "right thinking” and sound judgment. His poems of poetry, so tender, and yet so manly, --so natural seldom startle or astonish the reader: he does not and real, and yet so dignified and harmonious, as labour to probe the heart, and depict the more viothe Sonnets of Mr. Bowles.” He was not, how- lent passions of human kind; but he keeps an ever, satisfied with expressing in prose his sense “even tenor,” and never disappoints or dissatisfies of obligation, but in poetry poured out his gratitude by attempting a higher flight than that which he to his first master in minstrel lore :

may safely venture. “My heart has thank'd thee, Bowles, for those soft strains,

The main point of his argument against Pope Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring

will best exhibit his own character. He considers Of wild bees in the sunny showers of spring."

that from objects sublime or beautiful in themIn 1805 he published the “Spirit of Discovery by selves, genius will produce more admirable creaSea.” It is the longest of his productions, and is tions than it can from those which are comparaby some considered his best. The more recent of tively poor and insignificant. The topics upon his works is the “Little Villagers’ Verse Book ;" which Mr. Bowles has employed his pen are such a collection of hymns that will scarcely suffer by only as are naturally excellent.


A glen beneath lonely spot of restTHE MISSIONARY. Hung, scarce discover'd, like an eagle's nest.

Summer was in its prime: the parrot-flocks SCENE.-South America,

Darken'd the passing sunshine on the rocks ; Characters.-VALDIVIA, commander of the Spanish ar- | The chrysomel* and purple butterfly,t mies- LAUTARO, his page, a native of Chili-ANSELMO, Amid the clear blue light, are wandering by; the missionary—Indiana, his adopted daughter, wife of The humming-bird, along the myrtle bowers, Lautaro-ZARINEL, the wandering minstrel. Indians. — ATTACAPAC, father of Lautaro – OLOLA, his With twinkling wing, is spinning o'er the flowers, daughter, sister of Lautaro—C ACPOLICAN, chief of the The woodpecker is heard with busy bill, Indians--INDIAN WARRIORS.

The mock-bird sings—and all beside is still. The chief event of the poem turns upon the conduct of And look! the cataract that bursts so high,

Lautaro; but as the Missionary acts so distinguished a As not to mar the deep tranquillity, part, and as the whole of the moral depends upon him, 'The tumult of its dashing fall suspends, it was thought beuer to retain the title which was ori. And, stealing drop by drop, in mist descends ; ginally given to the poem.

Through whose illumined spray and sprinkling INTRODUCTION.

dews, WHEN o’er th’ Atlantic wild, rock'd by the blast, Shine to the adverse sun the broken rainbow hues. Sad Lusitania's exiled sovereign pass’d,

Checkering with partial shade the beams of noon, Rest of her pomp, from her paternal throne

And arching the gray rock with wild festoon, Cast forth, and wandering to a clime unknown,

Here, its gay net-work and fantastic twine, To seek a refuge on that distant shore,

The purple cogult threads from pine to pine, That once her country's legions dyed with gore ;- And oft, as the fresh airs of morning breathe, Sudden, methought, high-towering o'er the flood,

Dips its long tendrils in the stream beneath. Hesperian world! thy mighty Genius stood;

There, through the trunks, with moss and lichens Where spread, from cape to cape, from bay to bay,

white, Serenely blue, the vast Pacific lay;

The sunshine darts its interrupted light, And the huge Cordilleras, to the skies,

And, 'mid the cedar's darksome boughs, illumes, With all their burning summits* seem'd to rise.

With instant touch, the Lori's scarlet plumes. Then the stern spirit spoke, and to his voice

So smiles the scene ;—but can its smiles impart The waves and woods replied—“ Mountains, re-Aught to console yon mourning warrior's heart? joice!

He heeds not now, when beautifully bright, Thou solitary sea, whose billows sweep

The humming-bird is circling in his sight; The margin of my forests, dark and deep,

Nor e'en, above his head, when air is still, Rejoice! the hour is come: the mortal blow,

Hears the green woodpecker's resounding bill That smote the golden shrines of Mexico,

But gazing on the rocks and mountain wild, In Europe is avenged! and thou, proud Spain,

Rock after rock, in glittering masses piled Now hostile hosts insult thy own domain ;

To the volcano's cone, that shoots so high Now fate, viodictive, rolls, with refluent flood,

Gray smoke whose column stains the cloudless sky, Back on thy shores the tide of human blood.

He cries,“0! if thy spirit yet be filed Think of my murder'd millions of the cries

To the pale kingdoms of the shadowy dead, That once I heard from all my kingdoms rise ;

In yonder tract of purest light above, of famine's feeble plaint, of slavery's tear;

Dear long-lost object of a father's love, Think, too, if valour, freedom, fame, be dear,

Dost thou abide ? or like a shadow come, How my Antarctic sons,t undaunted, stood,

Circling the scenes of thy remember'd home, Exacting groan for groan, and blood for blood;

And passing with the breeze? or, in the beam And shouted, (may the sounds be hail'd by thee!) of evening, light the desert mountain stream ? TYRANTS, THE VIRTUOUS AND THE BRAVE ARE

Or at deep midnight are thine accents heard,

In the sad notes of that melodious bird,

Which, as we listen with mysterious dread,
Canto I.

Brings tidings from our friends and fathers dead?


* The crysomela is a beautiful insect, of which the One day and part of night.

young women of Chili make necklaces.

+ The parrot buttertiy, peculiar to this part of America, Valley in the Andes-Old Indian warrior-Loss of his son and daughter.

the largest and most brilliant of its kind-Papilio psil.

tacus. BENEATH aërial cliffs and glittering snows,

A most beautiful climbing plant. The vine is of the The rush-roof of an aged warrior rose,

size of packthread: it climbs on the trees without attach

ing itself to them: when it reaches the top, it descends Chief of the mountain tribes: high overhead

perpendicularly; and as it continues to grow, it extend's The Andes, wild and desolate, were spread, itself from tree lo tree, until it offers to the eye a confused Where cold Sierras shot their icy spires,

tissue, exhibiting some resemblance to the rigging of a And Chillanf trail'd its smoke and smouldering fires. ship.- Molinu.

$ “But because I cannot describe all the American

birds, which differ not a liule from ours, not only in kind, * Range of volcanoes on the summits of the Andes. but also in variety of colour, as rose-colour, red, violet, + The natives of Chili, who were never subdued. white, ash-colour, purple, &c.; I will at length describe * A volcano in Chili.

ono, which the barbarians so observe and esteem, that

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