TO A CAGED LION.

POOR conquered monarch-though the haughty glance
Still speaks thy courage yet unbroke by time,
And in the grandeur of thy sullen tread

Lives the proud spirit of thy burning clime-
Fettered by things that shudder at thy roar,

Torn from thy boundless plains to pace this narrow floor.

Thou wast the victor-and all nature shrunk
Before the thunders of thine awful wrath,
Her wildest monsters eyed thee from afar,
Fearless and trackless in thy lonely path,—
The famished tiger closed his flaming eye,
And crouched and panted as thy step went by.

Thou art the vanquished-and insulting man
Smiles at his triumph o'er a mightier thing;
His nerveless arms thine iron sinews bind,

And lead in chains the desert's fallen king:
Are these the beings that have dared to twine
Their feeble threads around those limbs of thine?

So must it be-the weaker, wiser race,

That wields the tempest, and that rides the sea, Even in the stillness of thy solitude

Must teach the lesson of its power to thee,

And thou, the terror of the trembling wild,

Must bow thy savage strength-the mockery of a child.

THE CANNIBAL.

I HAD a strange and fearful dream,
It lingers in my brain,

I've tried to blot its traces out,
But I have tried in vain ;

I would not for an angel's crown
Have such a dream again.

It was a dark and stormy night,
And I was all alone,
When suddenly upon mine eye
A ghastly splendor shone,
And a fiery figure stalked along,
And I heard a hollow moan.

He was a shape of giant size,
He looked all gaunt and grim;

It seemed as if my locks and bolts
Were but as threads to him ;-
I always double lock my door,
For I am short and slim.

My tongue it cleaved unto my jaws,
As it were in a vice;

My heart lay cold upon my ribs,

As any lump of ice;

My knees they rattled fearfully,

As men do rattle dice.

He opened wide his earthquake jaws,
And up his arm he flung;
Then I did give a feeble cry,
And to the bed-post clung,
For he had mighty lion teeth,
And a flaming, forked tongue.

He said he was a cannibal,

And that he walked by night, And that he once had been a man,

But now he was a sprite,

And that he knew how I was young,

And came to take a bite.

And then he pinched my meagre cheek, And felt my shoulders spare,

And growled and grumbled over me,

And pawed me like a bear; Then I did think of all my sins,

And tried to say a prayer.

He swore it was full many a day
Since mortal flesh he saw,

And now he thought a burning coal

Was lying in his maw;

With that he gnawed me with his teeth,
And clutched me with his claw.

Then I did try once more to shriek,
And sight and hearing fled,
But I could feel him munching me,
As people munch their bread,
And poison breathing from his lips,

Like vapors from the dead.

When he had done his meal he flung

My carcass in a sack,

And shouldered what there was of me,
As pedlars do their pack ;-

I woke, it was my breakfast-time,
And I was on my back.

PASSAGES FROM A DIARY.

BY CHARLES SHERRY.

March 4th.-Troubled with the blue-devils, to whom some day I must pen a tributary ode. To aggravate my distress took out my old correspondence with Miss Sniffle. How differently her letters read from what they used to! The hand-writing is wretched,—and all these sincere promises of everlasting love, appear cold, meagre, and miserable. But when I think that she neglected all opportunity of cultivating her mind, I do not know that it is much to be wondered at. But at any rate these misspellings are entirely unpardonable; and on second thoughts it really does appear that she has altogether too much contempt for Lowth and Murray;-strange that I never noticed this before! There is a good deal of variety in her orthography, however; for here is the same word spelt in three different styles on the same page. She carried her prejudices against correctness altogether too far.

Here is some of

her copied poetry,-in the most cramped and crooked hand, and blotted by some trivial mistakes. For by the quiver of Dian, by the tongue of Juno, by the pincushion of Minerva, she has written "Cupid's wing," by an unlucky omission, "Cupid's wig!" There they go-letter by letter-one after another-into those lambent flames. How fortunate that I have given them a calm perusal; for what would my executors have thought if they had found among my papers, a correspondence with so illiterate a character! 10th. Called upon La-Touche, and found an aggravation of tragic horrors seated upon his ruby countenance, as upon a throne. He was suffering under the infliction of a fiddle,

which was suffering severely under the hands of an unskilful performer. La-Touche was quite upon the high horse, as he has an excellent ear for music, and is a young man of a very violent imagination. He thought it a spirit from a distant sphere, sent to punish him for his wickedness; and that he should be terrified at such a circumstance, is not at all to be wondered at, for he is a wicked creature. I talked him into rationality again, and the demoniac glare of his eye subsided into a quiet stare. "I have been to the room whence those sounds issue," said La-Touche, "but I have been denied admittance. If however, as I do not believe, they came from an instrument played upon by human fingers, I will lie in wait for this marrer of melody, and bastinado him to the perfect satisfaction of my rage." Thus speaking, he drew himself up to his full height of five feet ten, and seized upon the cudgel which, in its graceful suspension, forms a distinguishing ornament of his apartment. I desired him to give up his purpose of vengeance, and to recreate himself with a little conversation; and as the sounds of the instrument ceased about that time, he dropped into a lethargic acquiescence with my wishes.

I then began a dissertation on instruments; and more particularly on that class called fiddles. Mr. La-Touche took the word from my lips, and continued," A violin, Mr. Sherry, is as magnificent an affair in the hands of a master, as it is excruciating under the fingers of a novice. It is capable of the most exquisite harmony, and the most direful discord. No one should attempt to play upon it, who is not blessed with a peculiar inspiration from nature. If in his earliest days the infant will be soothed only by the sound of a fiddle; if the first object he cries for is the fiddlestick; if he insists, before he is a twelvemonth old, upon grappling manfully with the instrument; if from his early youth he attempts to conform the members and muscles of his body to the necessary gyrations; if he can devote all his nights and days to it; there is some hope that in the course of a great many years he will become a reputable performer. But how can I speak so calmly? The recollection of these horrible sounds will haunt me for years. I have been cursed for the last half hour with subjects for melancholy that will continue with me till I am a grey-haired man."

I quieted his rising indignation, and reinarked on the introduction of drums, fiddles, fifes, and Alutes into the college buildings. He thought the circumstance quite a nuisance, especially when the instruments in question were subjected to the inveterate perseverance of beginners. I told him they did not disturb me at all.

"Disturb you at all-with your miserable apology for an intellect. You know that you are entirely deficient in musical sense-the finest and noblest we are inspired with; you can't distinguish a penny whistle from a German flute; and even with these miserable deficiencies, can you tell me that you are not annoyed to death by these diabolical caricatures and aggravations of discord?"

Mr. La-Touche had become quite personal, and very insane, and I saw safety only in a rapid retreat.

15th. A beautiful day, and I indulged myself with a walk into the capital. I met a great many things about the streets, which come under that class of animals called Fops. How peculiarly despicable-these baboons, ourang-outangs, puppy-dogs,-complete in every requisite but the tail. Is it possible that any rational being can affect the character?

16th. Forgot to mention a sorry calamity, which came near being my ruin. In returning in the afternoon from the city, I was accosted by a well-dressed, fine-looking man, who thought it a very pleasant day. I looked at him in blank astonishment, and told him, as my deliberate opinion, that it was a very pleasant day indeed. This meeting took place on the draw of the bridge. I stood a minute, to let the gentleman choose his sidewalk, and myself took possession of the other. My friend, however, was not to be disconcerted. With astonishing coolness he retraced his steps, and manifested his determination to enjoy my conversation, by placing himself at my side, and resisting my earnest endeavors to get rid of him. I walked slow,I walked fast; but my unknown friend could adapt himself to any length or swiftness of pace. I stopped and looked over the railing of the bridge; he seemed to have his time entirely at his own command, and to have as much inclination to gaze upon the water as myself. I looked upon the clouds, to teach him that I did not recognize his presence; I made faint attempts at a whistle, but he did not attend to