"I may well of my father's great courage be proud; Wherever he came,

Flock, shepherd, or dame,

All trembled, and fled at the sound of his name.

Did any one spy

My papa coming by,

Two hundred or more,-Oh! he made them all fly' One day, by a blow,

'He was conquered I know;

"But no wonder at last he should yield to a foe: He yielded, poor fellow !

The conquering bellow

Resounds in my ears as my poor father's knell-Oh!"

TO MY COUSIN ANNE.

A fox then replied,

While, leering aside,

He laughed at his folly and vaporing pride : "My chattering youth,

Your nonsense, forsooth,

is more like a funeral sermon than truthLet history tell

How your old father fell;

And see if the narrative sounds as well.
Your folly surpasses

Of monkeys all classes;

The beasts which he frightened or conquered, were asses; Except a few sheep,

When the shepherd, asleep,

The dog by his side for safety did keep.
Your father fell back,

Knocked down by a whack

From the very first bull that he dared to attack-
Away he'd have scoured,

But, soon overpowered,

He lived like a thief, and he died like a coward."

TO MY COUSIN ANNE,

ON RECEIVING FROM HER A NETWORK PURSE MADE BY
HERSELF.

My gentle Anne, whom heretofore,
When I was young, and thou no more

Than plaything for a nurse,

I danced and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee,

I thank thee for my purse.

Gol! pays the worth of all things here!
But not of love!-that gem 's too dear
For richest rogues to win it!

I, therefore, as a proof of love,
Esteem thy present far above

The best things kept within it.

JERUSALEM.

A SYRIAN Village is very beautiful in the centre of a fertile plain. The houses are isolated, and each surrounded with palm trees; the meadows are divided by rich plantations of Indian fig, and bounded by groves of olive.

In the distance rose a chain of severe and savage mountains. I was soon wandering, and for hours, in the wild, strong ravines of these shaggy rocks. At length, after several passes, I gained the ascent of a high mountain. Upon an opposite height, descending as a steep ravine, and forming, with the elevation on which I rested, a dark, narrow gorge, I beheld a city entirely surrounded by what I should have considered in Europe an old feudal wall, with towers and gates.

The city was built upon an ascent; and from the height on which I stood, I could discern the terrace and the cupola of almost every house, and the wall upon the other side rising from the plain; the ravine extending only on the side to which I was opposite. The city was in a bowl of mountains.

In the front was a magnificent mosque, with beauti. ful gardens, and many light and lofty gates of triumph; a variety of domes and towers rose in all directions from the buildings of bright stone.

Nothing could be conceived more wild, and terrible,

ODE TO PEACE.

25

and desolate than the surrounding scenery, more dark, and stony, and severe; but the ground was thrown about in such picturesque undulations, that the mind, full of the sublime, required not the beautiful; and rich and waving woods, and sparkling cultivation would have been misplaced. Except Athens, I had never witnessed any scene more essentially impressive. I will not place this spectacle below the city of Minerva. Athens and the holy city, in their glory, must have been the finest representations of the beautiful and the sublime-the holy city, for the elevation on which I stood was the mount of Olives, and the city on which I gazed was Jerusalem.

ODE TO PEACE.

COME, peace of mind, delightful guest!
Return and make thy downy nest
Once more in this sad heart;
Nor riches I, nor power pursue,
Nor hold forbidden joys in view;
We therefore need not part.

Where wilt not dwell, if not with me,
From avarice and ambition free,
And pleasure's fatal wiles?
For whom, alas! dost thou prepare
The sweets that I was wont to share,
The banquet of thy smiles?

The great, the gay, shall they partake
The heaven that thou alone canst make?
And wilt thou quit the stream

That murmurs through the dewy mead,

26

MORNING.-GOOD MANNERS.

The grove and the sequestered shade,
To be a guest with them?

For thee I panted, thee I prized.
For thee I gladly sacrificed
Whate'er I loved before;

And shall I see thee start away,

And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say,
Farewell! we meet no more '

MORNING.

BUT who the melodies of morn can tell?

The wild brook babbling down the mountain side The lowing herd-the sheepfold's simple bell; The pipe of early shepherd dim descried In the lone valley; echoing far and wide The clamorous horn along the cliffs above; The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide;

The hum of bees, and linnet's lay of love, And the full choir that wakes the universal grove. The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark;

Crowned with her pail the tripping milk-maid sings; The whistling ploughman stalks afield; and hark! Down the rough slope the ponderous wagon rings, Through rustling corn the hare astonished springs; Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour; The partridge bursts away on whirring wings; Deep mourns the turtle in sequestered bower, And shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tour.

GOOD MANNERS.

GOOD manners is the art of making people easy. The three sources of good manners are good nature,