PARODY on the ELEGY in p. 63.

Their tender minds with anxious care en

gage

By base

Now remov'd, much against the desires

Of Rustics, who never knew taste. Oft I've view'd you with sorrowing face, As vile ornaments, horrid, impure; As of Gothic design the disgrace,

And the work of some plummer obscure, *Ye Rustics, more wealthy than wise,

Whose heads seem to want a repair; To you will the lead be a prize,

And fill the blanks under your hair. Or, must your proud noddles remain

Ill-rhyming, un-grammar'd, and rude: Then, tho' lead from the Church ye may gain,

Yet brains ye will never include.

Tis, in these days, great Lincoln's chief pride,

That her Minster's design is complete : may she thus ever abide,

Of sound taste and good learning the seat!

Now,-thrown off her ill-sorted charms,She presents her grand, due-measur'd head;

In despite of the silly alarms

Of th' admirers of timber and lead. Long continue, thou Temple sublime, The delight of old age and of youth! May'st thou, late, fall a victim to Time; Since thy Guardians resist his fell tooth!

And bring such Characters alone to view
As Thomson form'd, or pious Cowper drew.
No gaudy pageant to your sight display,
But what Religion may herself survey;
A virtuous mind with generous deeds elate,
Or nobly bending to the stroke of Fate.
When Virtue gives to sentiment her
laws,
[plause
Where is the man who can withhold ap-
Who sees her reign, and can a smile for
bear?

[tear 3

Who hears her groan, and can refuse a F'en when brave Gambier 'midst victorious hays [praise,

And well-earn'd honours of his Country's With courage firm, with resolution great, Bade the proud Danes deliver up their fleet;

When War's dread er gines were ordain'd to fly,

Each feeling bosom heav'd a tender sigh s Firm Valour paus'd-Compassion cried, forbear!

And soft Humanity let fall a tear. Britannia saw the valiant Patriots bleed, And while she prais'd her Hero, mourn'd the deed.

Parents, attend-assist our feeble views, And show you have the goodness

excuse.

TRANSLATION OF MILTON'S
L'ALLEGRO.

(Continued from vol. LXXVII. p. 556.)
tuas dignor celebrare laudes
ST
Parvus, adjungi liceat choreis,
Læta vobiscum et pereuntis anni
Carpere dona.

Dulce gaudentis renovare carmen
Audiam ut voces tremulas alaudæ,
Vana pellentis redeunte primò
Somnia luce;

Lapsa de cœlo petat inde pennis
Sæpe demissis tuguri fenestras,
Grata et optatam moduletur hospes
Rite salutem:

Voce dum gallus resonans canora
Dissipat noctis tenues tenebras,
Horreum ad plenum tumet et sequentes
Ducere sponsas:

Vis canum præceps ruit hic profundo
Ore; clamorem geminatus Echo,
Cornuum et clangor, mihi, mane primo,
Percutit aures:

Jam vagus sylvas, viridesque colles,
Roscida et rura, haud latitans pererro;
Quò, torum linquens, renovata Phoebus
Lumina pandit:

Phoebus ardenti rutilans amictu
Mille diffundit varios colores,
Quæque et externo rubet igneo nubes:
Cantat arator;

Cantat incumbens operi puella,
Ubera ut raccæ tumefacta mulcet;
Stratus, et pastor repetit fabellam,
Membra sub ulmo.

Mira spectantem rapuit voluptas,
Dum mei campos oculi pererrant,
Quà juvat dulces pecus inter herbas
Molle vagari.

Raptus admiror capita alta montis
Nube pendenti coopert, fontes
Limpidas, amnis reboantis undam,
Florea prata.

Aspice, ingenti petit arce colum
Turris, umbrosi in nemoris tenebris,
Fortè ibi virgo decus omne, pagi
Gloria, pandit.

NEMO.

To silence hush'd by frosty magic keen. But let us, John, the cold dispel,

And keep the fire with coals well stor'd; The sparkling glass, with potent ale, Let's push about the social board. Jovial and happy pass away the hours, And trust futurity to Heav'nly Pow'rs.

Those Pow'rs which furious storms allay

Can calm the boist'rous gales of life; Then never heed the coming day,

To curious sages leave such strife. And should kind Fortune one more day bestow,

Grateful reflect 'tis more than she did owe.

Sweet prate and dalliance with the Fair, The song, the dance (extatic joys!) Delights like these whilst Youth can share,

Morose Old Age in vain decries. To manly objects yield the busy morn; Nor in the evening social converse scorn. The damsel, tittering from the screen,

Behold! her feign'd retreat betrays: I steal a ring, or bracelet c'en;

She yields them with reluctant ease. Insuch pursuits engag'd,'mid cold or snow, Pleasure excludes all vacancy for woe.

And nought but the sweetly meandering 'Twas then to old Donnington's ruin I stray'd, [laid low; Whose grandeur the sickle of Time has And the battlements where once the centinel staid, [grow.

The grey moss and bramble and ivy o'erYonder tower, where the standard of War

was once rear'd, [screeching owl; Is a nest for the young of the nightAnd those walls where the trumpet's shrill clarion was heard,

Re-echo alone to the noise of the fowl. The sun had long set, and the glimm'rings of day [beam;

Had departed to yield to fair Cynthia's And her mild lustre mark'd out the deviousway, [stream. Whilst clearly reflected on yon rippling 'Twas an hour when all Nature was hush'd to repose, [mind, And a pleasing serenity stole on the When the soul on contemplative pnions arose, [behind.

And left all Earth's follies and trifles Ah! where, I exclaim'd, ah! where are the hands

That made yonder edifice proudly arise; And where are the num'rous victorious bands [rent the skies? That ofttimes in triumph with shouts And where is the Bard* who so sweetly could sing, [old?

And tell of the warriors of Britain of

*Chaucer.

But

THE POET'S COT. By T. H. AR from the scenes where Vice and Folly sway,

FAR

[day, And Noise and Envy cloud the live long Far from Amb tion's haunts and noisy strife, I glide along the peaceful stream of life; Nor would I change a Poet's humble state For all the grandeur of the rich and great: Happy, to shine in Courts is not my lot, Or yet to pine in penury's lowly cot; Thankful that I the means possess to heal Ofttimes the woes which hapless mortals feel:

To soothe the Orphan, or the Widow cheer; And ne'er unmov'd the claim of Pity hear. What though no sumptuous palace is my home,

Though to my Cot I see no stately dome; Yet there Content sits smiling all around, A blessing oft in palaces not found.

In paddock small my humble Cot is plac'd;
With sweet simplicity and neatness grac'd.
Behind embow'ring woods ascend ng rise,
Whose lofty summits seem to reach the
sk es.
[flows,
In front, with murmurs sweet a rv'let
On whose wild banks full many a floweret
grows;
[trees
And many a seat beneath yon clumps of
Invites the weary traveller to ease.
Here, at the clo-e of day, I love to rest,
And watch the Sun declining in the West;
Till the last glimmerings of departing day
In gloomy shades of darkness fade away;
Or watch fair Cynthia, when her glimmer-
ing beam

Is clear reflected on yon rippling stream.
But few with such a life content would rest;
The crowded town and city suit them best;
And, while ascending Fortune's steepest
brow,
[low;
They look with proud contempt on all be-
And wisely judge that all must seek in

Who seek elsewhere true happiness to gain, Ah, fool.sh men! deluded with a sound; True pleasures there are never to be found Long may you seek them, but you'll seek in vain,

Amongst the giddy sons of Fashion's train, Amidst a constant round of routs and balls. In vain you seek in Dissipation's hal's, The gen of happiness shines not in strife, But in the cool sequester'd vale of life. Where Virtue and its Graces hold a throne, It's always to be found, and there alone. Oh may each reader take this sage advice! The paths of Mis'ry are the paths of Vice The deadly snare may oft be gilded o'er; But those that fall therein shall rise no more!

Despise not then, ye r'ch, a Poet's lot, For pleasure seldom leaves a Poet's Cot.

The following LINES were written on the Shore at Herne Bay, immediately after the Devastation made by a late Storm and uncommon high Tide, on the Design of taking down and re bulding the Parish Church of Reculver, on the Coast of Kent.

Inscribed

To the Memory of WILLIAM JACKSON, Esq. deceased.

the Author of a beaut ful and interesting
Elegy on the Decay of the Spires of that
Church, intituled The Sisters written on
the same Spot, and published, in 1784, in
Mr. DUNCOMBE's "History and Ant quities
of Reculver and Herne."
"Ye Waves, respect the holy Fane;
And you, ye wild Winds, spare
e!
But yet, if neither Wind nor Wave
Respect the tott'ring wall,

O Son of Commerce, haste and save
The Sea-mark from its fall!"

JACKSON'S Elegy. LONE Wand'rer, could thy pensive [Shade

To this bleak shore return, How would thy soft elegiac Strain

The Sister Spires mourn!

The "Sons of Commerce" heeded not
Thy long prophetic call;
To rescue from "old cean's" power,
Time now decrees their fall!
In vain, for distant ages past,

The Winds and Waves combin'd
Against this antient holy Fane,
The Sailor's Friend design'd.
Late w th augmented rage attack'd,
Her feeble frame.opprest;
The venerable Parentinks

At ength to final rest.

The works of Man, like Man himself,
All have their destin d days;
Soon shall the hand that lays it low,
Again the structure raise

The mother of tour churches.

Rebuil

CHE

LE BAISER (à LAURE.)

HERE Laure, ah! c'est que je t'adore! Je t'aime, et je te dois l'aveu; Le tribut de mon ame à toi ;

Du chaste amour le sacré nœud. C'est que les Dieux aux mortels rendent, De l'union sainte les douces prémices; Les jouissances qui nous attendent,

Et l'avant-goût de ses délices. C'est que les amants ont reçus, Dans l'age du monde heureux et sage, Ce don, au nom de la vertu,

Des jeunes Amours le doux partage. Chère Laure! ce secret est encore

Le dernier sceau de mon hommage;

Ce tribut de mon amie à toi,

Ce Baiser, de nos cœurs le gage. Bungay, Dec. 1807.

H

ODE TO THE CUCKOO. (FROM LOGAN'S POEMS.)

S. A.

AIL, beauteous Stranger of the grove! Thou Messenger of Spring! Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,

And woods thy welcome sing. What time the daisy decks the green,

Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful Visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet

From birds among the bowers.
The school-boy, wandering thro' the wood
To pull the primrose gay,
Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear,
And imitates thy laye

What time the pea puts on the bloom
Thou liest thy vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,
Another Spring to hail.

Sweet Bird! thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year!
O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.

TO SLEEP. (FROM THE SAME.) IN vain I court, till dawning light,

The coy Divinity of Night; Restless, from side to side I turn; Arise, ye Musings of the Morn!'

Oh, Sleep! though banish'd from thos In visions fair to Delia rise;

[ey on

And o'er a dearer form diffuse
Thy healing balm, thy lenient dews,
Blest be her night as infant's rest,
Lull'd on the fond maternal breast,
Who, sweetly-playful, smiles in sleep,
Nor knows that he is born to weep.
Remove the terrors of the night,
The phantom-forms of wild affright,
The shrieks from precipice or flood,
And starting scene that swims with blood.
Lead her aloft to blooming bowers,
And beds of amaranthine flowers,
And golden skies, and glittering streams,
That paint the paradise of dreams.
Venus! present a lover near,
And gently whisper in her ear
His woes, who, lonely and forlorn,
Counts the slow clock from night till mora.
Ah! let no port:on of my pain,
Save just a tender trace, remain;
Asleep consenting to be kind,

And wake with Daphnis in her mind.

IMITATION OF SHAKSPEARE OTHELLO, Act III. Scene I. By a Person deprived of Hearing. Oh now, for ever Farewell sweet harmony! Farewell all sounds!

Farewell dear conversation, and discourse, That gives the greatest zest to life! farewell!

Farewell soft nightingale, and herald lark,
The animating bells, and dulcet flute,
The full-ton'd organ, and all instruments
Of music that delight the ravish'd ear!
And, oh, you mortal and terrific sounds,
Ye boist'rous winds, rude waves, and
thunders dread,
[gone.
Farewell! alas! all sense of Hearing's

THE first Letter is from the Russian Minister Gen. Budberg, to Lord G. L. Gower, announcing that the Armistice concluded between the Russian and French Armies on the 9-21 June, had been ratified.

Letter H. is from Lord Gower to Gen. Budberg, dated Memel, 28th June, expressive of a confidence on the part of his Lordship, founded on the declarations and character of the Emperor of Russia, that his Majesty would not enter into a separate peace, but treat in conjunction with Great Britain, which, having entered into the war with no other view than the attainment of a permanent peace, was ready to enter into Negotiations upon an equitable basis.

Letter HI. from Gen. Budberg, dated Tilsit, 18-30 June, was as follows: "Sir and Ambassador, I have received the letter which your Excellency did me the honour of addressing to me yesterday; and having laid it before the Emperor, my august Master, I hasten to transmit to you the answer which his Imperial Majesty has commanded me to return to it. The firmness and perseverance with which his Majesty during eight months maintained and defended a cause which he had reason to suppose common to all Sovereigns, are the most certain pledges of the intentions which animated him, as well as of the loyalty and purity of his principles. Never would his Imperial Majesty have thought of deviating from that system which he has hitherto pursued, if he had been supported by a real assistance on the part of his Allies. But having, from the separation of Austria and of England, found himself reduced to his own forces; having to combat with the forces of France united to the immense means of which she has the disposal, and in the critical position at which affairs had arrived, his Majesty was authorised in believing, that by continuing to sacrifice himself for others, he would ultimately incur a risk of compromising the safety of his own Empire, without being enabled to hope that he might ever fulfil the original object of this war, The conduct which your Government has held during these latter times, is, moreover, of a nature completely to justify the determination which the Emperor has now taken. The diversion on the Continent, which England has so long since promised, has not to this day taken place; and if even, according to the latest advices from London, it would appear that the British Ministry has at length decided on ordering the departure of 10,000 men to Pomerania, that succour is in no wise proportioned, either to the hopes which we were authorised in entertaining, or the importance of the object to which these troops

were intended to be destined. The pecuniary succours which England constantly afforded to the Powers of the Continent at War with France, might in some degree have supplied the want of English troops. Not only did the British Government decline facilitating the loan which the Imperial Court had intended to negotiate at London; but when it at length decided on offering some subs dy to the Continental Powers, it appeared that the sum destined for this purpose, so far from meeting the exigencies of the Allies, would not even have covered the indispensable expences of Prussia. In fine, the use which has been made of the British forces in the Mediterranean has not been more con-. formable than the rest to the unity aud the connexion with which it was indispensable to act in the operations of Russia and England. In lieu of attempting an expedition on the Continent of Italy, with a view of re-conquering the kingdom of Naples, or else in lieu of uniting these forces. to those of Russia, which were designed to, compel the Porte to a reasonable Peace, one part of the English troops stationed in Sicily directed their course towards, an entirely different destination, which the British Government had not even judged proper to communicate to the Court of Russia. It is a point not to be contested,. that by following one or other of the courses which I have just cited, the English troops in the Mediterranean would have been of an infinitely greater utility to the common cause, by compelling the Enemy to divide his forces, which would have enabled Russia to have sent to her. main army those reinforcements which. she was under the necessity of employing; on the Danube, to support her army des tined to make head against the Turkish forces which might be collected in that quarter. From this statement, I am willing to believe, that your Excellency will be persuaded, that in such a conjuncture, it only remained for the Emperor my Master to look to the glory and to the security of his Empire; and that if the present crisis, does not produce every result which might be expected, if the Powers equally interested had displayed vigour in the saine proportion as they have exhibited tardiness and irresolution in all their operations, no blame can on this account be attached... to Russia. But, at the same time, the Emperor my Master offers his mediation to his Britannic Majesty to make his peace with France, having the certainty that it will be accepted by the latter Pow... er. I have the honour to be, with high consideration, Sir, your Excellency's most obedient humble servant,

(Signed)

A. DE BUDBERG."