Imagini ale paginilor



I am the subtle spirit of the fire

In earth's untrodden caves and mines I sleep; Forth from its deep recesses I aspire,

Or there in darkness, secret vigils keep.

I travel on the sulphurous lightning's wing,

When storms and tempests hurtle through the sky; In azure robes I guard the burning spring,

And bow before the breeze that passes by.

I dwell within the bosom of the sun,

The starry legions own my mystic sway,
Along the comet's radiant path I run,
And in its gorgeous train delighted play.

Oft in the dead of night I lift my head

And when you mark the clouds with ruddy glare;
Far thro' the Heavens a gloomy lustre shed,
Be sure, with subtle mischief, I am there.

'Tis at the midnight hour, I love to wake,
Warring with winds, my wild and wrathful yell;
Beware, when I destruction's sceptre take,-
'Twas I that laughed o'er Moscow when she fell!

I sometimes place me in the ranks of war,
And stir my pinion when the cannons roar,
Till, wearied with destruction, men abhor
The sight of ashes and of human gore.

I wave my wing on the volcano's height,
And from its crater clouds of smoke arise,
On these I sail along the startled night,

And wake the dreaming sleeper with my cries.

I bear my meteor lamp across the moor,
'To lead the wandring traveller from his way,
To unfrequented bogs his steps I lure,

And smile to see him foul deception's prey.

When winter rages round with frost and snow,

I brighten in the light that cheers your dome, 'Tis mine to bid the dusky embers glow

With beams of comfort on your evening home,

And when amid the falling coals your eye

May castles, hills, and rocks, and fields behold,
Know 'tis the Sylph of fire-yes, it is I

Who there these beauteous fantacies unfold.
Gentle and wrathful-pleasing and yet dread,-
Where shall your busy search my likeness find?
Thro' earth and air my wide dominions spread,
I am a spirit of fantastic kind.



There is a feeling which shall brightly glow,
Forever in a warm and noble heart,
Nor in the gloomy scenes of deepest wo,
Its soothing power will from the soul depart.
It is the mem'ry of the days we spent
In youthful happiness and childhood's joys.
When blooming fancy oft to pleasure lent,
A beauty, which the world too soon destroys.
It cheers the Exile in a foreign clime,
In hours of deepest sorrow and distress,
In all his woes he sighs "there was a time
In which I too have tasted happiness."
And then he muses on his early youth,
And seems to feel that happiness again,

The thought has power the darkest grief to soothe,
And bid his soul forget to think of pain.

And though with deeper wo his heart is fraught,
And heavier is his load of bursting care,

When vanishes the sweetly-pleasing thought,
And fades his visions into empty air.

He would not e'er that fancied bliss resign,
For all ambition's state and grandeur's show,
That mem'ry round his heart shall long entwine,
Increase his joys, yet heighten all his wo.-




Young Sally was the first and fairest

That flush'd with love my youthful breast,
And when she vow'd she held me dearest,

I looked on life as more than blest.
Believing all of heart's delight,
That lover's dream, or poets write
Were centered in my Sally.

Love, yet unschool'd, my lays adorning,
In rainbow rhymes her beauties drew,
Her smiling eyes like Way-day morning,
In tears-like harebells hung with dew;
Ran Eden o'er on fancy's feet,

But ah! found nothing half so sweet,
Nor half so fair as Sally.

Though ev'ry flower assured me daily,
That what is fair, alas! is frail,

Each Muse, her year spent glad and gaily,

To trim for her my tender tale.

But ah! with all our courteous care

We lit on nothing half so fair

Nor half so false as Sally.

F. L.


The foreign intelligence of the last month has been more than usually varied and important. The policy of the British government has officially developed itself in the King's speech at the opening of Parliament; the views of Spain in respect to South America have become more explicit; intelligence of a very satisfactory and cheering nature has been heard of the Greeks; and information has been received of a powerful nation having once more lifted her arm against that execrable commonwealth of pirates that inhabit the coast of Barbary. Each of these themes presents an extensive field for political speculation; but in our present number we have not space to dilate sufficiently on each, to do it justice. Our remarks must, therefore, be confined to those topics which we consider the most important.

The tone of the King of England's speech is altogether pacific; and his ablest and most influential minister has asserted in Parliament that, at no period had the country greater reason to calculate on a long continuance of peace. The British Ministers, it is true, scarcely conceal their chagrin at the vast accession of political power which has been acquired by their ancient enemy and national rival, in consequence of her recent successes in Spain. The close connexion now existing between the monarchs of the Bourbon family, cannot, indeed, be viewed by England with complaisance, as their united strength must ever be to her a source of danger. She is conscious that they never contemplate her prosperity with good will; and that when she is unfortunate they never fail to exult. Her religion and her political institutions, have long been the objects of their implacable hatred, while her power has excited their fears, and her wealth their envy. She has often humbled their ambition, and crippled their strength. She cannot, and does not, therefore, expect that they will ever cherish towards her, feelings of sincere friendship and good will; and it would be only by an exertion of generosity, which no nation ever yet exhibited, that she could bring herself to experience a genuine desire for their aggrandizement.

[blocks in formation]

From this view of the matter, it would appear to us, that sanguine as the British Ministers profess themselves to be of the long continuance of the present calm which they enjoy, they will have no hesitation to interrupt it, and once more put forth their might to deal in "bloody fray," if the coalesced Bourbons should attempt any means of increasing their power, or extending their empire beyond its present limits. We are persuaded, therefore, that any effort to re-annex South America to their dominions, will produce immediately the unsheathing of her sword, and her march to battle. Now, notwithstanding the assurances of the French to the contrary, we believe that such an effort will be made, and that too by means of French resources. Spain, it is true, may give name to the attempt. If fleets and armies be sent to South America, they may be called Spanish; they may sail from Spanish ports, and the Spanish flag may float from the tops of their masts. But French money, French officers, and, it is very probable, even French soldiers, will form the essentials of the expedition. We do not believe that the British Ministry are such fools as not to suspect that this will be the case, and should an armament of any considerable force sail from Spain, they will have no room for doubt on the subject. What then will be their conduct? Will they, in despite of all the dictates of prudence, and policy, and duty, sit stupidly still and cheat themselves with a name, when those very measures which it is their interest to oppose, nay, which they have avowed their determination to oppose, are substantially carried into effect. We cannot believe that they possess so little energy and wisdom as this inactivity would evince. They profess an ardent desire for the continuance of peace, and they are undoubtedly serious in such profession, for peace is of great consequence to the preservation of that unexampled state of prosperity their country at present enjoys. But in the event to which we allude, one important source of that prosperity, their South American trade, will be cut off-at least it will be endangered, and this will assuredly arouse them to exertion.

Under the present circumstances, we think it is politic in the British government to hold the language it does-to pretend that it is secure in the friendship of its neighbours, and satisfied that

it will enjoy that friendship for a long period to come. By such language, it may retard the rupture which it in reality forsees, and against which it is, in the mean time, diligently providing. Mr. Canning is a sagacious politician; he knows both what he is, and what he ought to be doing. He tells the rivals of his country, those whose ambitious projects it is incumbent on him to resist, the terms on which he will let them alone. He says to the only efficient branch of the house of Bourbon, "You must not molest South America. It is a part of the world with whose politics you have no business. If you interfere with them, our fleets and armies will interfere with you.. In the name of our common prosperity, stay at home, therefore, and mind your own affairs, and you and we shall continue good neighbours, and obliging friends.”

France professes to agree to this, provided her cousin Spain be permitted to try her own strength in reducing the Southern republics. Mr. Canning and Lord Liverpool make no objection to this, at least not such a one as to disturb their own tranquility on its account, because they know well that Spain with her own strength can no more reduce South America to her yoke, than she could chain the moon to the rock of Gibraltar. If an expedition be sent out it will, by the degree of its strength, be easily ascertained whether France is concerned in it, and we are persuaded that Great Britain will be prepared to act accordingly. At the present moment, her armed strength is considerable, and her ministers have found sufficient pretence for asking parliament to increase it both by land and sea.

Thus has the British cabinet adopted a system of profound policy. It has told the neighbouring powers what species of aggression will provoke its hostility and having thus warned them, it speaks as if it believed that peace would be everlasting, while it acts as if it expected immediate war. This is, per

haps, the most effectual mode of preventing that state of warfare which England at present, from commercial motives, earnestly wishes to avoid. Her language soothes while her measures intimidate. But should both fail, and war become inev.. itable, she will not be taken by surprise.

This appears to us to be the true light in which to view the present political system pursued by the British government. It

« ÎnapoiContinuă »