Bacchus and Mars to rule the camp combine; A mingled chaos this of war and wine. [pare, Now," cries the first, "for deeds of blood preWith me the conquest and the labour share: Here lies our path; lest any hand arise, Watch thou, while many a dreaming chieftain dies:

I'll carve our passage through the heedless foe,
And clear thy road with many a deadly blow."
His whispering accents then the youth repress'd,
And pierced proud Rhamnes through his
panting breast:

Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king reposed;
Debauch, and not fatigue, his eyes had closed
To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince,
His omens more than augur's skill evince;
But he, who thus foretold the fate of all,
Could not avert his own untimely fall.
Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell,
And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell;
The charioteer along his courser's sides
Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides;
And, last, his lord is number'd with the dead
Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head;
From the swoll'n veins the blackening torrents
pour;

Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore
Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire,
And gay Serranus, fill'd with youthful fire;
Half the long night in childish games was
pass'd,

Lull'd by the potent grape, he slept at last:
Ah! happier far had he the morn survey'd,
And till Aurora's dawn his skill display'd.

In slaughter'd fold, the keepers lost in sleep, His hungry fangs a lion thus may steep; Mid the sad flock, at dead of night he prowls, Vith murder glutted, and in carnage rolls: Insatiate still, through teeming herds he roams; In seas of gore the lordly tyrant foams.

Nor less the other's deadly vengeance came, But falls on feeble crowds without a name; His wound unconscious Fadus scarce can feel Yet wakeful Rhesus sees the threatening steel; His coward breast behind a jar he hides, And vainly in the weak defence contides; Full in his heart, the falchion searched his veins, The reeking weapon bears alternate stains; Through wine and blood, commingling as they flow,

One feeble spirit seeks the shades below. Now where Messapus dwelt they bend their way,

Those fires emit a faint and trembling ray:

There, unconfined, behold each grazing steed Unwatch'd, unheeded, on the herbage feed: Brave Nisus here arrests his comrade's arm, Too flush'd with carnage, and with conques

warm:

"Hence let us haste, the dangerous path is pass'd; [last: Full foes enough to-night nave breathed their Soon will the day those eastern clouds adoru; Now let us speed, nor-tempt the rising morn."

With silver arms, with various art emboss'd, What bowls and mantles in confusion toss'd, They leave regardless! yet one glittering prize Attracts the younger hero's wandering eyes; The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt, The gems which stud the monarch's golden belt. This from the pallid corse was quickly torn, Once by a line of former chieftains worn. Th' exulting boy the studded girdle wears, Messapus' helm his head in triumph bears; Then from the tents their cautious steps they bend,

To seek the vale where safer paths extend.

Listening he runs-above the waving trees, Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze; The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around Wake the dark echoes of the trembling ground. Again he turns, of footsteps hears the noise; The sound elates, the sight his hope destroys. The hapless boy a ruffian train surround, While lengthening shades his weary way confound;

Him with loud shouts the furious knights pursue,
Struggling in vain, a captive to the crew.
What can his friend 'gainst thronging numbers
dare?

Ah! must he rush, his comrade's fate to share?
What force, what aid, what stratagem essay,
Back to redeem the Latian spoiler's prey?
His life a votive ransom nobly give,

Or die with him for whom he wish'd to live?
Poising with strength his lifted lance on high,
On Luna's orb he cast his frenzied eye:-
"Goddess serene, transcending every star!
Queen of the sky, whose beams are seen afar!
Bynight heaven owns thy sway,by day the grove,
When, as chaste Dian, here thou deign'st to rove:
If e'er myself, or sire, have sought to grace
Thine altars with the produce of the chase,
Speed, speed my dart to pierce yon vaunting
crowd,

To free my friend, and scatter far the proud."
Thus having said, the hissing dart he flung;
Through parted shades the hurtling weapon
sung;

The thirsty point in Sulmo's entrails lay, Transfix'd his heart, and stretch'd him on the clay :

He sobs, he dies,-the troop in wild amaze, Unconscious whence the death, with horror [riven,

gaze.

While pale they stare, through Tagus temples A second shaft with equal force is driven. Fierce Volscens rolls around his lowering eyes; 'eil'd by the night, secure the Trojan lies. burning with wrath, he view'd his soldiers fall. "Thou youth accurst, thy life shall pay for all!"' Quick from the sheath his flaming glaive he drew,

And, raging, on the boy defenceless flew. Nisus no more the blackening shade conceals, Forth, forth he starts, and all his love reveals: Aghast, confused, his fears to madness rise, And pour these accents, shrieking as he flies: "Me, me, your vengeance hurl on me alone; Here sheathe the steel, my blood is all your own. Ye starry spheres! thou conscious Heaven! [fest! He could not durst not--lo! the guile con

attest!

All, all was mine,-his early fate suspend; He only loved too well his hapless friend: Spare, spare, ye chiefs! from him your rage

remove;

His fault was friendship, all his crime was love."
He pray'd in vain; the dark assassin's sword
Pierced the fair side, the snowy bosom gored,
Lowly to earth inclines his plume-clad crest,
And sanguine torrents mantle o'er his breast:
As some young rose, whose blossom scenta
the air,

Languid in death, expires beneath the share;
Or crimson poppy, sinking with the shower,
Declining gently, falls a fading flower;
Thus, sweetly drooping, bends his lovely head,
And lingering beauty hovers round the dead.

But fiery Nisus stems the battle's tide, Revenge his leader, and despair his guide; Volscens he seeks amidst the gathering host, Volscens must soon appease his comrade's ghost:

{foe, Steel, flashing, pours on steel, foe crowds on Rage nerves his arm, fate gleams in every blow;

In vain beneath unnumber'd wounds he bleeds, Nor wounds, nor death, distracted Nisus heeds; In viewless circles wheel'd, his falchion flies, Nor quits the hero's grasp till Volscens dies; Deep in his throat its end the weapon found, The tyrant's soul fled groaning through the wound.

Thus Nisus all his fond affection provedDying, revenged the fate of him he loved; Then on his bosom sought his wonted place, And death was heavenly in his friend's embrace.

Celestial pair! if augnt my verse can claim, Wafted on Time's broad pinion, yours is fame; Ages on ages shall your fate admire,

No future day shall see your names expire, While stands the Capitol, immorial dome! And vanquish'd millions hail their empress. Rome.

TRANSLATION FROM THE MEDEA OF EURIPIDES.

[Ερωτες ὑπερ μεν άγαν, κ.τ.λ.]

WHEN fierce conflicting passions urge

The breast where love is wont to glow What mind can stem the stormy surge

Which rolls the tide of human woe?

The hope of praise, the dread of shame, Can rouse the tortured breast no more; The wild desire. the guilty flame,

Absorbs each wish it felt before.

But if affection gently thrills

The soul by purer dreams possest, The pleasing balm of mortal ills

In love can soothe the aching breast. If thus thou comest in disguise,

Fair Venus from thy native heaven, What heart unfeeling would despise

The sweetest boon the gods have given ?

But never from thy golden bow

May I beneath the shaft expire!
Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,
Awakes an all-consuming fire:
Ye racking doubts! ye jealous fears!
With others wage internal war;
Repentance, source of future tears,
From me be ever distant far!

May no distracting thoughts destroy
The holy calm of sacred love!
May all the hours be wing'd with joy,
Which hover faithful hearts above!
Fair Venus! on thy myrtle shrine

May I with some fond lover sigh,
Whose heart may mingle pure with mine-
With me to live, with me to die.
My native soil! beloved before,

Now dearer as my peaceful home, Ne'er may I quit thy rocky shore,

A hapless banish'd wretch to roam! This very day, this very hour,

May I resign this fleeting breath! Nor quit my silent humble bower;

A doom to me far worse than death.

Have I not heard the exile's sigh?

And seen the exile's silent tear, Through distant climes condemn'd to fly, A pensive weary wanderer here? Ah! hapless dame52! no sire bewails,

No friend thy wretched fate deplores, No kindred voice with rapture hails

Thy steps within a strangers doors. Perish the fiend whose iron heart,

To fair affection's truth unknown,
Bids her he fondly loved depart,

Unpitied, helpless, and alone;
Who ne'er unlocks with silver key53
The milder treasures of his soul,-
Mav such a friend be far from me,
And ocean's storms between us roll'

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COL LEGE EXAMINATION.

HIGH in the midst, surrounded by his peers, MAGNUS54 his ample front sublime uprears: Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god, While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod. As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom. His voice in thunder shakes the sounding dome Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools, Unskill'd to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth in Euclid's axioms tried Though little versed in any art beside; Who, scarcely skill'd an English line to pen, Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken. What,though he knows not how his fathers bled, When civil discord piled the fields with dead, When Edward bade his conquering bands ad.

Such is the youth whose scientific pate
Class-honours, medals, fellowships, await;
Or even, perhaps, the declamation prize,
If to such glorious height he lifts his eyes.
But lo! no common orator can hope
The envied silver within his scope.
cup
Not that our heads much eloquence require,
Th' ATHENIAN's55 glowing style, or Tully's fire
A manner clear or warm is useless, since
We do not try by speaking to convince.
Be other orators of pleasing proud:
We speak to please ourselves, not move the
crowd:

Our gravity prefers the muttering tone,
A proper mixture of the squeak and groan.
No borrow'd grace of action must be seen,
The slightest motion would displease the
Dean;55

Whilst every staring graduate would prate
Against what he could never imitate

The man who hopes t' obtain the promised cup
Must in one posture stand, and ne'er look up:
Nor stop, but rattle over every word—
No matter what, so it can not be heard.
Thus let him hurry on, nor think to rest :
Who speaks the fastest 's sure to speak the best,

Who utters most within the shortest space May safely hope to win the wordy race.

The sons of science these, who, thus repaid,
Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade;
Where on Cam's sedgy bank supine they lie
Unknown, unhonour'd live, unwept for die:
Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls,
They think all learning fix'd within their walls:
In manners rude, in foolish forms precise,
All modern arts affecting to despise;
Yet prizing Bentley's, Brunck's, or Porson's
note,

More than the verse on which the critic wrote:
Vain as their honours, heavy as their ale,
Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale;
To friendship dead, though not untaught to
feel

When Self and Church demand a bigot zeal.
With eager haste they court the lord of
power,
Whether 't is Pitt or Petty rules the hour;
To him, with suppliant smiles, they bend the
head,

While distant mitres to their eyes are spread. But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace, They'd fly to seek the next who fill'd his place. Such are the men who learning's treasures guard!

Such is their practice, such is their reward! This much, at least we may presume to sayThe premium can't exceed the price they pay.

1806.

TO A BEAUTIFUL QUAKER. SWEET girl! though only once we met, That meeting I shall ne'er forget; And though we ne'er may meet again, Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, "I love," but still My senses struggle with my will: In vain, to drive thee from my breast, My thoughts are more and more represt; In vain I check the rising sighs, Another to the last replies: Perhaps this is not love, but yet Our meeting I can ne'er forget.

What though we never silence broke,
Our eyes a sweeter language spoke;
The tongue in flattering falsehood deals,
And tells a tale it never feels:
Deceit the guilty lips impart;
And hush the mandates of the heart;

But soul's interpreters, the eyes,
Spurn such restraint, and scorn di: guise.
As thus our glances oft conversed,
And all our bosoms felt rehearsed.
No spirit, from within, reproved us,
Say rather, "'t was the spirit moved us.'
Though what they utter'd I repress,
Yet I conceive thou 'lt partly guess ·
For as on thee my memory ponders,
Perchance to me thine also wanders.
This for myself, at least, I'll say,
Thy form appears through night, through
day:

Awake, with it my fancy teems;

In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams:
The vision charms the hours away,
And bids me curse Aurora's ray.
For breaking slumbers of delight,
Which make me wish for endless night.
Since, oh! whate'er my future fate,
Shall joy or woe my steps await,
Tempted by love, by storms beset,
Thine image I can ne'er forget.

Alas! again no more we meet,
No more our former looks repeat;
Then let me breathe this parting prayer,
The dictate of my bosom's care:
"May Heaven so guard my lovely quake
That anguish never can o'ertake her;
That peace and virtue ne'er forsake her,
But bliss be aye her heart's partaker'
Oh! may the happy mortal, fated
To be, by dearest ties, related,
For her each hour new joys discover,
And lose the husband in the lover!
May that fair bosom never know
What 't is to feel the restless woe,
Which stings the soul with vain regret,
Of him who never can forget!"

THE CORNELIAN.56

N specious splendour of this stone Endears it to my memory ever; With lustre only once it shone.

And blushes modest as the giver.

Some, who can sneer at friendship's ties, Have, for my weakness, oft reproved me Yet still the simple gift I prize,—

For I am sure the giver loved me.

He offer'd it with downcast look,
As fearful that I might refuse it;
I told him when the gift I took,
My only fear should be to lose it.

This pledge attentively I view'd,

And sparkling as I held it near, Methought one drop the stone bedew'd, And ever since I've loved a tear.

Still, to adorn his humble youth,

Nor wealth, nor birth their treasures yield; But he who seeks the flowers of truth,

Must quit the garden for the field.

'Tis not the plant uprear'd in sloth,

Which beauty shows, and sheds perfume; The flowers which yield the most of both In Nature's wild luxuriance bloom.

Had Fortune aided Nature's care,
For once forgetting to be blind,
His would have been an ample share,
If well proportion'd to his mind.

But had the goddess clearly seen,

His form had fixed her fickle breast; her countless hoards would his have been, And none remain'd to give thee rest.

AN OCCASIONAI. PROLOGUE,

DELIVERED PREVIOUS TO THE PERFORMANCE OF "THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE" AT A PRIVATE THEATRE."57

ANCE the refinement of this polish'd age Has swept immoral raillery from the stage; Since taste has now expunged licentious wit, Which stamp'd disgrace on all an author writ; Since now to please with purer scenes we seek, Nor dare to call the blush from Beauty's cheek; Olet the modest Muse some pity claim, And meet indulgence, though she find not fame. Still, not for her alone we wish respect, Others appear more conscious of defect: To-night no veteran Roscii you behold, n all the arts of scenic action old; No Cooke, no Kemble, can salute you here, No Siddons draw the sympathetic tear; To-night you throng to witness the debut Of embryo actors, to the Drama new: Here, then, our almost unfledged wings we try; Clip not our pinions ere the birds can fly ·

Failing in this our first attempt to svar,
Drooping, alas! we fall to rise no more.
Not one poor trembler only fear betrays,
Who hopes, yet almost dreads, to meet your
praise;

But all our dramatis personæ wait
In fond suspense this crisis of their fate.
No venal views our progress can retard,
Your generous plaudits are our sole reward
For these, each Hero all his power displays,
Each timid Heroine shrinks before your gaze
Surely the last will some protection find;
None to the softer sex can prove unkind:
While Youth and Beauty form the female shield,
The sternest censor to the fair must yield.
Yet, should our feeble efforts nought avail,
Should, after all, our best endeavours fail,
Still let some mercy in your bosoms live,
And, if
you can't applaud, at least forgive.

ON THE DEATH OF MR. FOX,

THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN A MORNING PAPER.

"OUR nation's foes lament on Fox's death, But bless the hour when PITT resign'd his breath These feelings wide, let sense and truth unclue We give the palm where Justice points its due.'

TO WHICH THE AUTHOR OF THESE PIECES SENT THE FOLLOWING REPLY.

Oн factious viper! whose envenom'd tooth
Would mangle still the dead, perverting truth,
What though our "nation's foes" lament the fate
With generous feeling, of the good and great.
Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name
Of him whose meed exists in endless fame?
When PITT expired in plenitude of power,
Though ill success obscured his dying hour,
Pity her dewy wings before him spread,
For noble spirits "war not with the dead:"
His friends, in tears, a last sad requiem gave
As all his errors slumber'd in the grave;
He sunk, an Atlas bending 'neath the weight
Of cares o'erwhelming our conflicting state:
When, lo! a Hercules in Fox appear'd,
Who for a time the ruin'd fabric rear'd:
He, too, is fall'n, who Britain's loss supplied,
With him our fast-reviving hopes have died;
Not one great people only raise his urn,
All Europe's far-extended regions moun.