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Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount,
And here, while the night-winds round me sigh,
THE BECHUANA BOY.
All-all now forsaken-forgotten-foregone!
Afar in the desert I love to ride, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side: When the wild turmoil of this wearisome life, With its scenes of oppression, corruption, and strife: The proud man's frown, and the base man's fear,The scorner's laugh, and the sufferer's tear,And malice, and meanness, and falsehood, and folly, Dispose me to musing and dark melancholy; When my bosom is full, and my thoughts are high, And my soul is sick with the bondman's sighOh! then there is freedom, and joy, and pride, Afar in the desert alone to ride! There is rapture to vault on the champing steed, And to bound away with the eagle's speed, With the death-fraught firelock in my handThe only law of the desert land!
Afar in the desert I love to ride, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side: Away-away from the dwellings of men, By the wild deer's haunt, by the buffalo's glen; By valleys remote where the oribi plays, Where the gnu, the gazelle, and the hartebeest graze, And the kudu and eland unhunted recline By the skirts of gray forests o'erhung with wild-vine; Where the elephant browses at peace in his wood, And the river-horse gambols unscared in the flood, And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will In the fen where the wild-ass is drinking his fill.
Afar in the desert I love to ride, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side : O’er the brown Karroo, where the bleating cry Of the springbok's fawn sounds plaintively; And the timorous quagga's shrill whistling neigh Is heard by the fountain at twilight gray; Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mane, With wild hoof scouring the desolate plain ; And the fleet-footed ostrich over the waste Speeds like a horseman who travels in haste, Hying away to the home of her rest, Where she and her mate have scoop'd their nest, Far hid from the pitiless plunderer's view In the pathless depths of the parch'd Karroo.
Afar in the desert I love to ride, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side: Away-away-in the wilderness vast, Where the white man's foot hath never pass'd, And the quiver'd Coránna or Bechuán Hath rarely cross'd with his roving clan : A region of emptiness, howling and drear, Which man hath abandon'd from famine and fear; Which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone, With the twilight bat from the yawning stone; Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root, Save poisonous thorns that pierce the foot; And the bitter-melon, for food and drink, Is the pilgrim's fare by the salt lake's brink : A region of drought, where no river glides, Nor rippling brook with osiered sides;
I sat at noontide in my tent,
And look'd across the desert dun,
Lay gleaming in the sun,
And modestly before me stood,
That fawn of gentle brood; Then, meekly gazing in my face, Said in the language of his race, With smiling look, yet pensive tone, « Stranger, I'm in the world alone !" “ Poor boy,” I said, “ thy kindred's home,
Beyond far Stormberg's ridges blue,
This desolate Karroo ?”
«The Bergenaars, by night they came, And raised their murder-shout of joy,
While o'er our huts the flame
To feast the foul-beak'd birds of prey ;
They hurried us away-
Where thirst and anguish press'd us sore ; And many a mother and her child
Lay down to rise no more:
Behind us, on the desert brown,
Midst that dry and dismal land,
We hurried to its strand;
In turbid streams was sweeping fast,
Loud snorting as we pass’d;
We stood upon the stranger's ground,
The white men gather'd round:
My little sister's wailing cry,
Rose wildly to the sky.
The white man-stealers fleetly go,
O'er mountains capp'd with snow,-
Since I the white man's thrall became,
Harsh blows and scorn and shame. Oh, English chief! thou ne'er canst know The injured bondman's bitter wo, When round his heart, like scorpions, cling Black thoughts, that madden while they sting! 6 Yet this hard fate I might have bome,
And taught in time my soul to bend,
Had my sad yearning breast forlorn
But found a single friend :
I tended on the upland waste,
By wolfish wild-dogs chased :
(Its hapless fate so like to mine) By good Ctiko it was brought,
To bid me not repine-
My task the proud Boor's flocks to tend;
To love, or call my friend; When suddenly, with haughty look And taunting words, that tyrant took My playmate for his pamper'd boy, Who envied me my only joy. “ High swellid my heart! But when the star
Of midnight gleam'J, I softly led
Into the desert fled.
The tidings that thy tents were near;
Thy presence, void of fear;
Our breasts they were not made of stone: His words, bis winning looks prevail
We took him for « our own.”
William Peter, the descendant of a family in the successful advocacy of which he had, which has flourished for many centuries in by his speeches and writings, long borne a the west of England, * was born in Cornwall, leading part in his native county. Since his educated at Christ-Church, Oxford, and stu- | withdrawal from Parliament, he has spent died law at Lincoln's Inn. After a few years' | two or three years in visiting different counresidence in London, he returned to his native tries of Europe, and is now Her Britannic shire, settling down at the seat of his fore- | Majesty's Consul for the State of Pennsylvania. fathers, and dividing his time between literary Mr. Peter's poetical works consist of and domestic pleasures and the discharge of translations from the German and Italian,* those magisterial and other duties attached to scriptural paraphrases, and original pieces. the life of an English country gentleman. His translations are remarkable for their eleBeing a zealous whig, however, of the Somers gance and fidelity, and all his productions and Fox school, he was, at length, induced to for a most scholarly elaboration and finish. enter the House of Commons, where, during He is also the author of a “Memoir of Sir the few years that he continued a member of | Samuel Romilly," as well as of several tracts, that body, he had the satisfaction of contri- | chiefly political, and in support of the princibuting by his votes to the final triumph of ples and party to which he has been throughmany of those great principles and measures, | out life attached.
DAMON AND PYTHIAS. | Then to Pythias he went; and he told him his case ;
That true friend answer'd not, but, with instant Non certes; la Vie n'est pas si aride que l'Egoisme
embrace nous l'a faite ; tout n'y est pas prudence, tout n'y est
Consenting, rush'd forth to be bound in his pas calcul.Mad. de Staël.
room ; “ HERE, guards!" pale with fears Dionysius cries,
And now, as if wing'd with new life from above, “Here, guards, yon intruder arrest !
To his sister he flew, did his errand of love, 'Tis Damon-but hah! speak, what means this
And, ere a third morning had brighten'd the grove, disguise ?
Was returning with joy to his doom. And the dagger, which gleams in thy vest ?" « 'Twas to free,” says the youth, “this dear land
But the heavens interpose, from its chains !"
Stern the tempest arose, « Free the land! wretched fool, thou shalt die for |
And, when the poor pilgrim arrived at the shore,
Swoll'n to torrents, the rills thy pains."
Rush'd in foam from the hills, “I am ready to die-I ask not to live
And crash went the bridge in the whirlpool's wild Yet three days of respite, perhaps, thou may'st give,
roar. For to-morrow, my sister will wed, there; And 't would damp all her joy, were her brother not Wildly gazing, despairing, half phrensied he stood; Then let me, I pray, to her nuptials repair, Dark, dark were the skies, and dark was the flood, Whilst a friend remains here in my stead.” And still darker his lorn heart's emotion;
And he shouted for aid, but no aid was at hand, With a sneer on his brow, and a curse in his breast, No boat ventured forth from the surf-ridden strand, “ Thou shalt have,” cries the tyrant, “shalt have
And the waves sprang, like woods, o'er the lessenthy request;
Now with knees low to earth and with hands to There be but one hour's, but one moment's delay,
the skies, That delay shall be death to thy friend !”
“ Still the storm, God of might, God of mercy !" he * Burke's " Commoners of England.”
cries+ Tbis an imitation or free version of Schiller's “ Bürgschaft."'-For the origin of the story, see Valerius Maximus, I. iv. c.7. de Amicitiâ ; Cic. Off, I. iii. c. 10; * Amongst these are Schiller's “ William Tell," “ Mary and Lactant. I. v. c. 17. Pythias is called Phintias by Stuart,” the “Maid of Orleans," "Battle with the DraValerius Maximus and Cicero.
gon;" Manzoni's “ Fifth of May," &c., &c.
“Oh hush with thy breath this loud sea; With confident soul he stood, hour after hour, The hours hurry by : the sun glows on high ; Thy return never doubting to see; And should he go down, and I reach not yon town, No sneers of the tyrant that faith could o'erpower My friend-he must perish for me!"
Or shake his assurance in thee !” Yet the wrath of the torrent still went on increasing, “And is it too late ? and cannot I save sgrave! And waves upon waves still dissolved without His dear life? then, at least, let me share in his ceasing,
Yes, death shall unite us! no tyrant shall say, And hour after hour hurried on;
That friend to his friend proved untrue; he may Then, by anguish impell’d, hope and fear alike o'er, He, reckless, rush'd into the water's deep roar; May torture, may mock at all mercy and ruth, Rose, sunk, struggled on, till, at length, the But ne'er shall he doubt of our friendship and truth." wish'd shore,
"Tis sunset; and Damon arrives at the gate, Thanks to Heaven's outstretch'd hand—it is
Sees the scaffold and multitudes gazing below; won !
Already the victim is bared for his fate, But new perils await him: scarce 'scaped from the Already the deathsman stands arm'd for the blow; flood,
When hark! a wild voice, which is echo'd around, And intent on redeeming each moment's delay, “Stay !-'tis I-it is Damon, for whom he was As onward he sped, lo! from out a dark wood,
bound !" A band of fierce robbers encompass'd his way.
And now they sink into each other's embrace, * What would ye ?” he cried, “ save my life I
And are weeping for joy and despair. [case; have naught;
Not a soul, amongst thousands, but melts at their Nay, that is the king's" -Then swift, having caught
Which swift to the monarch they bear; A club from the nearest, and swinging it round
Even he, too, is moved-feels for once as he oughtWith might more than man's, he laid three on the
And commands, that they both to his throne shall ground,
be brought. Whilst the rest hurried off in dismay.
Then,-alternately gazing on each gallant.youth But the noon's scorching flame
With looks of awe, wonder, and shame Soon shoots through his frame,
“Ye have conquer'd,” he cries. « Yes, I see now And he turns, faint and way-worn, to heaven
that truth, with a sigh
That friendship, is not a mere name. « From the flood and the foe
Go: you're free; but, whilst life's dearest blessThou'st redeem'd me, and oh!
ings you prove, Thus, by thirst overcome, must I effortless lie,
Let one prayer of your monarch be heard, And leave him, the beloved of my bosom, to die!" | That-his past sins forgot-in this union of love Scarce utter'd the word,
And of virtue—you make him the third.”
Und kalt und farblos seh' ich's vor mir liegen.
Tae clouds gather fast, the oak forests' moan, And now the sun's beams through the deep boughs
A maiden goes forth by the dark sea alone, are glowing,
The wave on the shore breaks with might, with And rock, tree, and mountain their shadows are
And she mingles her sighs with gloomy night, Hage and grim, o'er the meadow's bright bloom;
Whilst her eyes are all tearfully roving. And two travellers are seen coming forth on their
“ My heart, it is dead, and the world's void and drear
And there's nothing to hope or to live for here. way, And, just as they pass, he hears one of them say
Thou Holy One, call back thy child to her rest; “ 'Tis the hour that was fix'd for his doom.”
In the pleasure of earth I've already been blest,
In the pleasure of living and loving !"
Vain, vain thy regrets, vain the tears that are shed The domes of far Syracuse blend ;- (gray
O'er the tomb; no complaints will awaken the dead; There Philostratus meets him, (a servant grown
Yet oh! if there's aught to the desolate heart, In his house,) crying: “Back! not a moment's
For the lost light of love can a solace impart,delay;
It will not be denied thee by heaven. No cares will avail for thy friend.
“Let the soul then sigh on, its tears gently fall;
Though life, love, and rapture, they cannot recall, “No; nothing can save his dear head from the tomb; Yet the sweetest of balms to the desolate breast, So think of preserving thine own.
For the lost love of Him, whom on earth it loved Myself, I beheld him led forth to his doom;
best, Ere this, his brave spirit has flown.
Are the pangs to his memory given.”
Perfida sed, quamvis perfida, chara tamen.
But ah! as ocean's breast, unsteady,
These visions fade, these joys decay, And, faithless, from my path already,
Friend after friend, they've dropp'd away. False Fortune hails some happier master,
The thirst of Lore survives my youth, But doubt's chill clouds are gathering faster
Around the sunny form of Truth. I saw the holy crown of Glory
Polluted on the vulgar brow; And Love-ah, why so transitory?
E'en Love's sweet flowers are withering now; And dimmer all around, and dimmer,
Fades on the sense life's west'ring ray,
To light the pilgrim on his way.
To court, soothe, flatter, shout, carouse,
Or follow to my last dark house ? Thou, Friendship! gentlest nurse, that bearest
Balm for all wounds, all woes around, Who, patient, every burden sharest
Mine earliest sought and latest found. And thou, with Friendship still uniting,
Exorcist of the stormy soul, Employment, all its powers exciting,
Though weakening none, by thy control!
Ado'st to eternity's vast day,
Art striking weeks, months, years, away.
Thou, and wilt thou for ever leave me
With thy bright smiles, with thy sweet sighs, And didst thou come but to deceive me,
With all thy tender phantasies?
O golden season of life's glee?
Into eternity's dark sea.
That bright around my morntide shone, And all within this heart most cherish'd,
Life's sweet Ideal-all is gone. The fairy visions, the gay creatures,
To which my trusting soul gave birth, Stern reason dims their angel-features,
And heaven is lost in clouds of earth. As erst, with fiercest, tenderest anguish
Pygmalion clasp'd the senseless stone, And taught the death-cold breast to languish
With blood, pulse, transports, as his own; Thus I, around my heart's dear treasure,
Round nature, twined my wooing arms, Till, giving back the throb of pleasure,
She glow'd,-alive in all her charms. Then, then with mutual instinct burning,
The dumb caught raptures from my tongue, And, kiss with sweetest kiss returning,
Responsive to her minstrel rung: With falls more musical the fountain,
With brighter hues, tree, flower were rife, The soulless breath'd from lake and mountain,
And all was echo of my life.
Stretch'd boldly forth o'er depths unknown, With eager prow life's coasts exploring,
Her realms of thought, sight, feeling, tone. How vast the world then, how elysian
Its prospects, in dim distance seen! Ilow faded now,-on nearer vision
How small,--and oh! that small, how mean! With soul, by worldling care unblighted,
With brow, unblench'd by fear or shame, How sprang-on wings of hope delighted
Young manhood to the lists of fame! Far, far beyond earth's cold dominions,
High, high as light's exultant sphere, No realms too distant for his pinions,
No worlds too bright for his career. How swist the car of rapture bore him,
(No toils seem'd hari, no wishes vain.) How light, how gladsome, danced before him
Imagination's sparkling train!
Young Glory, with his laurell’d sword,
* A free version of Schiller’s “ Die Ideale."
Though Cowper's zeal, though Milton's fire
Inspired my glowing tongue; Though holier raptures woke my lyre,
Than ever Seraph sung;
Mine ardent labours crown'd;
"T were all but empty sound. Love suffers long; is just, sincere,
Forgiving, slow to blame;
An erring brother's shame.
To generous pity prone,
Nor triumphs in her own.
She harbours in her breast;
And still believes the best.
Though prophecies decay,
Shall still extend her sway.