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Fancy, written in the cant style,-the on a charity sermon, which had been review of a corps of sharpshooters, recently preached,
We find this prowith whose manoeuvres the writer finds mise fulfilled to the letter, as fole great fault,--and an elaborate criticism lows,)
AILIE MUSHAT'S CAIRN.
A Vision-like remembrance of a Vision.
And to the midnight breeze, that sung
With dismal, and unearthly tongue:
And I durst not linger to look behind,
And heard their shrieks on the passing wind;
Its flames of blue and lurid red,
Were seated round the stony bed
With visage savage, fierce, and wild,
that held her bones,
A chequered napkin bound her head,
Her hands and breast were spotted red ;
I started ! for she strove to rise,
grass a circle round;
Slowly within the stony mound-
Aug. 4.-Am glad to observe from seen pleases me extremely, though the the philosophical journals, the news- subject can scarcely be said to be well papers," and other authentic sources, adapted for poetry. My translation is that several of the barbarous tribes are not so bad. M. Titsingh's Latin parapaying attention to literature and the phrase is also very good. The English fine arts. - The Japanese poem I have is literal.
HORÆ BINICÆ. No. II.
ODE ON THE DEATH OF YAHMASSEERO, COUNCILLOR OF STATE.
English. I have just learned that one of the new guards has excited a tumult in the castle, by assassinating a councillor in his folly.
The white robe of Yahmahsseero, is stained with blood, and all call him the red councillor.
The current which, on the eastern road, crosses the village Sahnno, has swelled, and penetrated the dike round the fen, and the high castle of the mountain has fallen.
One of the footguards drew
Is stained with fiery gore,
By Sahnno, little town,
And who has felled the plum ?
From off his legs,—most true ; If ever such a thing was heard, It may most safely be averr'd That it hath been-adieu !
Who has cast into the fire the plum and cherry trees ?--Valuable trees, which are planted in boxes, for the sake of their agreeable flowers ? Sahnno has cut them down.
A councillor in his madness hath been overthrown; if ever such an event was heard of, it may be said to be a judgment from heaven.
Aug. 8.-Blue stockings are not to unfortunate Miss Bailey,” and Odes, in my taste, unless their attention be on which sound gave sense no opportuly paid to polite literature-the play nity of coming forward in self defence. that is just to come out, or the last new Must learn the particulars of that poem.
sweet, modest, and melancholy young Last night's party, however, the creature, who sate on the end of the most agreeable of the kind that I sopha, nearest the door. Am certain have met ; if the young lady with the that I caught her sighing several times. blue eyes, could have been contented, Must be at the bottom; having been with only smiling and shewing us her teazing myself whether the unfortufine teeth, and not disturbed herself nate passion, the theme of the stanzas about the alteration in the criminal which she handed about, as her piclaws, and the effects which the corne nic share of the literary banquet, can bill might have had. Rather too be only an effusion of sentiment, or theatrical in the other young lady whether they have originated in dread Miss - , to recite Coleridge's ode reality. At all events, she may wait to the Departing Year, with such em- long enough, till her verses phatic pith, and such vehemence of round to her again; as, in the heat gesticulation. The MS. poems hand- of conversation, I stowed them along ed round insufferably bad. Elegies in with my snuff-box into my waistcoat the measure of “ Oh, Miss Bailey, pocket. They are not amiss.
Oh mine be the shade, &c.
On! mine be the shade where no eye may discover,
Where in silence and sorrow alone I may dwell ;
A tear unto her, who has loved but too well !
The vows, it hath pledged, and has cherish'd through years ;
The silence of grief, and the solace of tears !
Farewell the bright prospects that once could allure me
To think this poor earth was a promise of Heaven ;
Too much with the darkness of fate I have striven;
The beauties of earth, and the glories of sky,
And all that remains upon earth is to die !!
To die-ror to be married. It is a that I might make proposals ; if she lottery indeed, but still “ I have stout has any rhino, so much the better ; notions on the marrying score,” to use let her put it in her pocket, and it will the words of an eminent poet. Truly prevent the wind from blowing her I am not a little taken with this sweet away. But the deuce is, I am afraid of young creature; and perhaps, after all, that evil genius of mine, Mrs M-Whirthis
ter. What misery a rash step entails
I wish a hurricano would Was not taught her by the dove,
blow her and the lecturer to the river To die, and know no second love.
of the Amazons for ever and a day. If I thought so, I do not know, but
SKETCHES OF VILLAGE CHARACTER,
Each one that lives has an appropriate “ want”.
“Mungo CLARK, THE SOUTH COUNTRY PACKMAN." A Packman, Mungo, of no vulgar kind, A staff before, a monstrous pack behind, Bent o'er his rung, he crawls along the road, And groans, and grunts, beneath his merchant load, Snuffs up the wind, with teeth exposed and bare, And looks the very image of despair Till gain’d at length the farmer's open door, Where many a cur has fled his staff before, On meal-ark lid he rests his coffin'd ware, And by the evening “ ingle” takes a chair And long the country clash-“ How Lizy fled, “ Though thrice on Sabbath call'd, the bridal bed ; “ How Tibby's Bell is off wi' Jenny's Rob, “ And Jeanie's Bet has gi’en the kirk a job; “ How sold the 'Nowt last week, at · Štaigshaw-bank,' “And how the drover perish'd in the stank ;' “ How very dear the newest Bumbazeens, “ How scarce the Cassimeres, how rare the Jeans “ The Cottons, too, are up, the Waistcoat pieces “ Are selling off at most enormous prices; “ And e'en the Bible, curse upon the printer, “ Is dearer now than what it was in winter.'
This prelude past and all the household crew
The farmer's jolly Daughter wipes her hands,
Dirt-cheap, indeed, it was, as well it might;
« This gown-piece wants a sprig, and that a colour;
Now Nell has bought a Bible bound in calf
* " Fath, my lady,” was Mungo's way of addressing all individuals of the fair sex.
+ It is well known that the out or tent-preachings at the Presbyterian sacraments are now generally abolished ; and it is, no doubt, upon the whole, better that they are so.