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Or where that hill's serener brow
O'erlooks the bustling world below,
Wait till that glorious orb arise,
And ride along the nether skies.
A warrior, awful to assail,

With fiery lance and golden mail;
Who, while his own impassive form
Derides of earth and heaven the storm,
Has ireful shafts so swift, so sure,
That mortal strength can ne'er endure;
When that, in vengeance like a God,
O'er scorching realms he proudly trod,
But oftener when he glads the view,
Like as a God in bounty too.
Pouring his flood of life and light,

O'er teeming plains and mountains bright;
Painting each flower with colours gay;
Darting the diamond's sparkling ray;
And making earth her stores unfold
Of ruddy fruit and waving gold.
The holiest heart was e'er bestow'd,
Might hail him on his heavenly road,
And pardon that the pagan knee
Had bent in fond idolatry.

Sweet scene, farewell! Although these eyes

Behold thee but through mimic dies;

Though ne'er my step may wander o'er

To ancient Albion's distant shore;

Yet for this semblance shall my heart
Long bless the imitative art.

But thou whose meed it was to know
The substance of this shadowy show,
At will to visit such a shrine,

With the high consciousness-'twas thine;
Could'st thou-whate'er the Syren call-
From such an Eden fly-self driven?

Its social bower, its festive hall,

Its lawns, its waters, woods, its all!

"O how could'st thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven."

The following beautiful sonnet, by the late Dr. Leyden, is the germ of the most poetical part of Graham's Sabbath.

SABBATH MORNING.

HAIL to the placid, venerable morn

That slowly wakes while all the fields are still;

A pensive calm on every breeze is borne,

A graver murmur gurgles from the rill,

VOL. IV. New Series.

22

And echo answers softer from the hill;
While softer sings the linnet from the thorn,
The sky-lark warbles in a tone less shrill.
Hail, light serene! hail, holy sabbath morn!

The gales that lately sighed along the grave
Have hushed their downy wings in dead repose,
The rooks float silent by in airy drove,

The sun a mild, but solemn, lustre throws;
The clouds, that hovered slow, forget to move:
Thus smiled the day when the first morn arose.

The following lines, by a gentleman of New-York, appeared some time sinee in a political paper of that city. We now transplant them to a more congenial

soil.

ON REVISITING THE COTTAGE OF ROSA IN EARLY SPRING, AFTER A LONG ABSENCE.

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SEVEN summers have flown, and once more do I see

The fields and the groves I deserted so long;

Scarce a bud yet appears on the winter-beat tree,

Nor a bird yet enlivens the sky with his song.

For though spring has returned, yet the chilly wind blows,
And the violets and daisies still hide in the ground;

But one dear little flower, one beautiful ROSE,

Here blooms and here blushes the seasons all round.

Thou pride of the plain, little queen of the grove,
Still fresh is thy foliage and sweet thy perfume,
And still the bright object of Paridel's love,

As when thy first buds were beginning to bloom.

And though fate has decreed that he must not aspire
This blossom divine on his bosom to wear,

Yet still must he cherish the tender desire,
And make thee forever the theme of his prayer.

Blow gently, ye zephyrs, be genial, ye showers,

Bright and warm be the sky o'er thy dear native vale,

And may no bitter blast ever ravage the bowers
That guard thy fair frame from the merciless gale.

And when the short season of blooming shall end,
Which fate to the children of nature hath given,
May some cherub of beauty, to snatch thee, descend,
And bear thee to bloom in the gardens of heaven.

PARIDEL

THE MELO-DRAME.

[From a late London Paper.]

WHAT have we here-half solemn and half gay?
Not quite a pantomime, nor quite a play?

This something-nothing-full of noise and show;
Anomalous display of mirth and wo;

Full of confusion, bustle, and surprises,
Escapes, encounters, blunders, and disguises!
Is this a comedy? Where lies the wit?
In vain I've watch'd to catch one lucky hit.
What sportive satire flashes bright and keen?
What traits of various character are seen?
A tragedy? Say, where is pathos shown?
Can the spectator make the grief his own?
Hang with mute earnestness on every line,
And own the touch of sympathy divine;
Feel virtuous indignation fire his breast,
And his cheek glow for innocence distrest?
Does he one moment steal from self away,
And lend his whole existence to the play?

Such was the scene, when "o'er her barb'rous foes,"
By "learning's triumph" first the stage arose;
Her empire o'er the polished world when gain'd,
The tragic and the comic muse sustain'd.
Enchanting sisters! as by REYNOLDS' art
Portray'd, so graven on each feeling heart;

Each, with attraction all her own, is fair,

And GARRICK stands suspended 'twixt the pair;

With doubting face he seems to pause between,

Yet wins them both, like SHAKSPEARE and like KEAN.

But who is she with airy step and gait,

And dwarfish stature, clad in mimic state?

She sings, she dances, and she speaks-but hark!
Ere you the meaning of her words can mark,
Trumpets and neighing steeds her accents drown-
And who is she, the fav'rite of the town?
Inquire not of her pedigree or race;
Some likeness to her sisters you may trace;
But such a kindred as she dares not claim-
Degenerate brauch, and MELO-DRAME her name.

DRAMATICUS.

DOMESTIC LITERARY INTELLIGENCE

The Life of Lord Wellington, published in New-York, by Van Winkle and Wiley, is an interesting work, both on account of the very important events which it describes, and of the high military character of the noble marquis, who has acted so distinguished a part in the affairs of Spain. It does not appear that the author himself witnessed any of the events, or was an actor in any of the scenes which he describes; and we are, therefore, to presume, that he has derived his knowledge of what he relates from public documents, or oral communications. Mr. Clarke, however, omits in his preface to satisfy his readers on this point, nor does he make any reference, in the course of his narrative, to the sources of his information. Taking it for granted that his materials are authentic, he has digested and combined them in a manner the best calculated to produce an animated and instructive narrative, devesting it of minute and tedious details, and connecting the various military operations and events, with brief sketches of intermediate circumstances relative to the general and political affairs of the country in which the events took place. The narrative by Mr. Clarke terminates with the attack on Burgos, from which period the account is continued by William Dunlap, of New-York, to the time of the taking of Bordeaux, and, considering the difficulty of procuring ample and authentic documents of the transactions in question at this distance from the scene of events, we must do Mr. Dunlap the justice to say that he has executed the task in a very neat and judicious manner.

T. H. Palmer, of Washington, has edited two volumes 8vo. entitled "The Historical Register," and his plan is to publish two volumes of the same work annually, at a regular interval of six months for each volume. The first volume is appropriated principally to a sketch of legislative proceedings, notices of internal improvements, and of the progress of the arts, manufactures, &c. The second contains an historical summary, or retrospect, of the most remarkable events in the political and military transactions of the United States, together with a complete collection of state papers and official documents.

Considering the obvious utility of a work of this description, it is really a matter of regret that no publication of the kind has ever yet been able to establish itself in this country with such a degree of credit and permanence, as to acquire the character of standard authority, and at the same time to secure the reward due to the faithful annalist, and industrious compiler. In England the Annual Register, which commenced in the year 1756, has been continued down regularly to the present time, always sustaining the reputation of being the most authentic record of public events, and enjoying such a liberal patronage as to enable the editors to invite to their aid writers of the most respectable talents in preparing the historical summary which occupies so considerable a portion of the work.

The American Register," edited by the late C. C. Brown, of Philadelphia, in 1806, and continued till the time of his decease, possessed

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more of the features and character of the British "Annual Register" than any other publication of the kind ever undertaken in this country; and there is little doubt that if the author, who was a man of talents and great intelligence, had lived, the American Register would at this day have been in general circulation, and its reputation established on a lasting basis. One would very reasonably imagine that in this country, where political events and national transactions engage so large a share of the attention and conversation of all classes of people, and where there is so much curiosity and eagerness to read official documents, papers, &c. that an Annual Register, well conducted, would receive great encouragement. It seems, however, that our innumerable newspapers, which almost literally cover the land, and where every political transaction and state document is im mediately published, are quite sufficient to gratify the cravings of the ordinary race of politicians. Something new is what they chiefly desire, and this appetite being gratified, they have no idea of paying again for the same thing at the end of the year, in the shape of a register. All, however, are not such, and there is, beyond all question, room enough for a work of this description, and enough of the spirit of encouragement in the country, if it could only be concentred. But the misfortune is, there are too many adventurers in the business who are not qualified to command success; though, by means of the little local patronage which each has it in his power to procure for his own production, for a while, at least, no one is enabled to acquire ground sufficient for its radical and permanent support, and they all vanish before the end of the second year

"Like bubbles, on the sea of matter borne,

They rise, they break, and to that sea return."

Whether Mr. Palmer's register is to have the good fortune of running a longer career, it is not easy to foresee. The volumes have a respectable appearance, and the contents are of value to the politician, statesman, and historian, as all collections of the kind must necessarily be. The part denominated the annals, is the only place where the editor of such a work can display his talents as a writer, and it is by no means evident that any great effort has been made in the present instance to exhibit this part as a test of the merit of the work in question, or as a proof of its title to general notice and encouragement.

MR. LESLIE. We have repeatedly mentioned this young artist in our work, because we consider him likely to be a brilliant ornament to his country. Our expectations have been heightened by a copy of a correspondence with which we have been favoured by Mr. Joseph Y. Tompkins of Baltimore, who recently returned from England. While in London he desired Mr. David M. Randolph to write a letter to Mr. West, requesting his opinion of the merits and productions of Mr. Leslie, for the purpose of satisfying his friends in America of his improvement. The reply of Mr. West expresses the most unqualified approbation. He pronounces Mr. Leslie's painting of Saul in the house of the Witch of Endor as almost without a parallel in the art, considering the artist to be but in his nineteenth year, and this the second historical picture he had ever painted He speaks in high terms of the disposition, morals and habits of Mr. Leslie, and anticipates the highest achievements in the art from his more matured pencil. The painting of the Witch of Endor was purchased of Mr. Leslie by Sir John Leicester, Bart. for one hundred guineas,

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