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And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive For you, in presence of this little band
Your pastor is imbolden'd to prefer
Vocal thanksgivings to th' Eternal King; Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have flowers
made Of every clime, to till the lonely field,
Your very poorest rich in peace of thought Be happy in himself? The law of faith,
And in good works; and him, who is endow'd Working through love, such conquest shall it gain, With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth Such triumph over sin and guilt achieve?
Which the salvation of his soul requires. Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart!
Conscious of that abundant favour shower'd And with that help the wonder shall be seen On you, the children of my humble care, Fulfill'd, the hope accomplish'd: and thy praise And this dear land, our country while on earth Be sung with transport and unceasing joy.
We sojourn, have I listed up my soul, “Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake, Joy giving voice to servent gratitude. On us the venerable pastor turn'd
These barren rocks, your stern inheritance; His beaming eye that had been raised to heaven,
These fertile fields, that recompense your pains ; “Once, while the name, Jehovah, was a sound The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain top; Within the circuit of the seagirt isle
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads, Unheard, the savage nations bow'd the head Or hush’d; the roaring waters, and the still; To gods delighting in reinorseless deeds ;
They see the offering of my listed handsGods which themselves had fashion'd, to promote They hear my lips present their sacrificeIll purposes, and flatter foul desires.
They know if I be silent, morn or even : Then, in the bosom of yon mountain cove, For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart To those inventions of corrupted man
Will find a vent; and thought is praise to Him, Mysterious rites were solemnized : and there, Audible praise, to Thee, Omniscient Mind, Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods, From whom all gifts descend, all blessings flow !” Of those territic idols, some received
This vesper service closed, without delay, Such dismal service, that the loudest voice From that exalted station to the plain Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard Descending, we pursued our homeward course, Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome, In mute composure, o'er the shadowy lake, Though aided by wild winds, the groans and Beneath a faded sky. No trace remain'd shrieks
of those celestial splendours ; gray the vault, Of human victims, offer'd up t'appease
Pure, cloudless ether; and the star of eve Or to propitiate. And, if living eyes
Was wanting; but inferior lights appear'd Had visionary faculties to see
Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some The thing that hath been as the thing that is, Above the darken'd hills stood boldly forth Aghast we might behold this crystal mere
In twinkling lustre, ere the boat attain'd Bedimm'd with smoke, in wreaths voluminous, Her mooring place; where to the sheltering tree Flung from the body of devouring fires,
Our youthful voyagers bound fast her prow, To Taranis erected on the heights
With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we By priestly hands, for sacrifice performid
paced Exultingly, in view of open day
The dewy fields; but ere the vicar's door And full assemblage of a barbarous host;
Was reach'd, the solitary check'd his steps; Or to Andates, female power! who gave
Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestow'd (For so they fancied) glorious victory.
A farewell salutation,-and, the like A few rude monuments of mountain stone
Receiving, took the slender path that leads Survive; all else is swept away. How bright To the one cottage in the lonely dell; Th’ appearances of things ! From such, how But turn'd not without welcome promise given, changed
That he would share the pleasures and pursuits Th’existing worship! and with those compared, Of yet another summer's day, consumed The worshippers how innocent and blest!
In wandering with us through the valleys fair, So wide the difference, a willing mind,
And o'er the mountain wastes. “Another sun," At this affecting hour, might almost think
Said he, “shall shine upon us ere we part, That Paradise, the lost abode of man,
sun, and peradventure more ; Was raised again: and to a happy few,
If time, with free consent, is yours to give,In its original beauty, here restored.
And season favours.” Whence but from Thee, the true and only God,
To enfeebled power, And from the faith derived through Him who bled From this communion with uninjured minds, Upon the cross, this marvellous advance
What renovation had been brought; and what Of good from evil; as if one extreme
Degree of healing to a wounded spirit,
To seek, in degradation of the kind,
Excuse and solace for her own defects;
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,
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 ;
Rusty lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee,
Ne'er assoil my cobwebb'd shield!
Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
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!
Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free,
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,
Make one being of a pair.”
“ 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,
Flower of an unchristian sod!
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,
Tears not wanting, nor a knell
Of sorrow in her heart wbile through her father's
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
Woman's birthright into dust.
Little be the wonder then, the blame be none,
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
W25 amrtaat stars, or getering Cristian metaress sush'for all the path of life,
W bibving mst, sbruid wueliest love, their only
Mete membento of that union
Where a cras'ezz't knight lies sculptured
As te*wees two weldet wives-
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
List, ye wbu pas4 by Lyu'ph's tower*
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
Embodied in the sund.
Not far from that fair site whereon
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;
Foil to a jewel rich in light,
There set, and guarded well;
Cage for a bird of plumage bright,
Sweet-voiced, oor wishing for a flight
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,
Carne barons bold, with store of gold,
And knights of high renown;
But one she prized, and only one;
Sir Eglamore was he;
Full happy season, when was known,
Ye dales and hill«! to you alone
Their mutual loyalty-
Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of bolly;
Where passion caught what nature taught, The devout embraces still, while such tears fell
That all but love is folly;
Where fact with fancy stoop'd to play,
Doubt came not, nor regret;
To trouble hours that wing'd their way,
As if through an immortal day
Whose sun could never set.
But in old times love dwelt not long
Sequester'd with repose ;
Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Fann'd by the breath of foes.
“A conquering lance is beauty's test,
And proves the lover true;" Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,
So spake Sir Eglamore, and press'd
And look'd a blind adieu.
* 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
Her faithful spirit flew,
His voice; beheld his speaking face,
And, dying, from his own embrace,
She felt that he was true.
So was he reconciled to life ;
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,
And awed to piety.
Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,
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.
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.