Page images

Poor exile, adieu! undisturbd be thy sleep!
From the feast, from the wake, from the village green

How oft shall we wander, by moonlight to weep,

O’er the stranger we lov’d, the poor exile of France. To the church-going bride shall thy mem'ry impart

One pang as her eyes on thy cold relics glance, One flow'r from her garland, one tear from her heart, Shall drop on the grave of the exile of France.

W. S.

An Eclogue,
Departing suu proclaim'd approaching night,
And the moon shone with faint, yet pleasing light,
When Damon, fairest of the village swains,
On his soft pipe began th' untutor'd strains ;
He sung how Thyrsis for Maria dead,
The tears of pity and affection shed.
Ou! come, ye nymphs and swains, the shepherd said,
Let cypress boughs adorn the mourner's head;
Let tender bosoms heave with pitying sighs,
And tears bedim the lustre of your eyes :
Whilst o'er the tomb where innocence is laid,
You pensive stand, and mourn the absent maid.
Oh! come, ye nymphs, the yews and cypress bring,
And come, ye swains, the solemn dirges sing.

Thyrsis how oft beneath the moon's pale light,
In pleasing converse you've beguild the night.
No one was nigh to envy, or to hear,
Those soft embraces wbich fond lovers share.

No one was nigh to listen, or reveal,
Lovers do nothing that they would conceal.
Ah! now no more soft converse will delight,
But tears and sighs wear out the tedious night.

The Morning Bright on her golden car Aurora rides,

The lark, high soaring hails the dappled morn! Itchin's* blue stream in smoaking currents glides,

Cathrin’st glad brow the sparkling dews adorn. Through yonder field, new-gilded by the ray, .

The whistling shepherd to his crowded pens Plods with uneven gait; while watchful Tray,

With studious eyes, his master's flock attends.

Theatrical Intelligence extraordinary.- Friday, September 16. Yesterday departed this kingdom, to the inexpressible grief of Drury Lane 'theatre, David Garrick, Esq. poet, painter, and philosopher; musician, manager, and mimic; critic, censor, and composer, and professor of tragedy, comedy, and farce. This unhappy poor gentleman had long been in a languishing condition, from a surfeit which he took at the astonishing success of Covent Garden house, and his distemper daily threatening him with a relapse, he was advised by his first physicians to recruit his con

* A river near Winchester. ,' A hill near Winchester, belonging to the College.

stitution, or at least endeavour to avoid, by retiring into the air of another country, the dramatical pestilence which he found himself utterly incapable of opposing in this. His chariot was attended out of town by innumerable sons of the buskin, and a prodigious train of danglers on the sock. Mr. Holland, in the character of 'Tragedy, was dressed in a deep suit of mourning, and poor Mrs. Cibber had her hair all dishevelled, representing a picture of the greatest distress. A universal silence for a long time reigned through the cavalcade, which Mrs. Clive at last broke by an exclamation of “G-d's b—d !" and a rivulet of tears. At parting, poor Mr. Garrick recommended his memory with much condescension to them all, while the pious Mr. Charles Churchill offered a solemn prayer for his happy return, to which the sensible Mr. Thomas Clough officiated as clerk, and pronounced a hearty Amen. - We hear the principal performers of the house

intend furnishing themselves with black, upon this melancholy occasion; and that every person under fifty shillings a week is to be provided with a second-hand suit out of the stock. We are further informed, that Mr. Scott, of the Black Lion in Russel Street, has generously promised to supply any ten with board, during the whole season, upon tick; an example which, it is hoped, Carter of the Blue Posts, and Jupp of the Queen's Head, will good-naturedly follow; and moreover, that if any benefactions should be left for the relief of

VOL. 1.

the poor actors, by the charitable and well-disposed, at any of the above houses, that they may be carefully taken in.


The following anecdote may be depended on :A few days since, a lady (Mrs. S.) who is called a woman of spirit, ordered an elegant habit for the masquerade at Mrs. Cornely’s, which was brought home last Saturday ; she had surveyed it with rapture, and thrown it on a sopha in her dressing-room, and went out to invite some of her intimates to partake of her joy; soon after her departure, an honest tradesman came with his bill: he had at different times called, for twelve months past, on the same errand, but to no purpose ; he now asked for the lady's husband, who happened to be at home, and who is a man of great humanity, although of a humourous turn. On hearing his tale, the gentleman took him into his wife's dressing room. “ My friend," says he, “ I have no money by me; but take this fool's coat (giving him the masquerade dress); you will, at this time, sell it for more than will discharge your bill.” The tradesman walked off highly pleased. The lady has taken to her bed with vexation.

A woman of genteel appearance lately, with one servant of each sex, took an apartment in a lodging-house at the west end of the town; the mistress of the house being very inquisitive rom, specting the character of her lodgers, the lady informed her, she need not be under any concern, for she received no male company but her musicmaster. Accordingly the music-master came two or three times a week, and the servants before the time of his coming were always sent out of the way on different pretences; at length, oh woeful mistake! he came very late one night in a chair quite drunk, and insisted on being let in; the mistress of the house came down, and found this music-master to be inetamorphosed into one of the first peers of the realm, with the insignia of his rank on; she obliged him to decamp, and the lady to follow him in the morning, much to their mortification to be thus detected. The peer is married, and the lady a colonel's widow.

An Indian Hunt ---A gentleman at Lucknow gives the following account of the late hunt of his Excellency the Nawab:-..

“ The object of attack was a wild elephant. We espied him on a large plain, overgrown with grass. The Nawab, eager for such diversions, immediately formed a semi-circle with four hundred elephants, who were directed to advance on and encircle him. When the semi-circle of elephants got within three hundred yards of the wild one, he looked amazed, but not frightened ; two large Must (high in the rut) elephants of the Nawab's were ordered to advance against him;

« PreviousContinue »