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Be duteous and tender to him, as to me:
Look up to the mercy-seat then;

And passing this shadow of death, which I see,
Come, come to my arms back again.

THE HERO MAY PERISH.

To the foregoing Air.

SET FOR TWO VOICES.

THE Hero may perish his country to save,
And he lives in the records of fame;
The Sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave-
Ever honour'd and blest be his name!
But Virtue that silently toils or expires,
No wreath for the brow to entwine;
That asks but a smile-but a fond sigh requires→→
O Woman! that virtue is thine. *

* Our readers, we are persuaded, will pardon us for again introducing them to Mr. THOMSON,-the Gentleman whom we had occasion to mention so frequently in our first volume as a correspondent of BURNS's, and the Editor of an elegant musical work, for which the greater part of that Poet's songs were expressly written. It is to this Gentleman alone, perhaps, that we are wholly indebted, not only for the best of BURNS's pieces, but also for a great variety of the most admirable lyrics, written by some of the first poets of the present day; for it may be questioned if one-half, or even any at all, of the exquisite songs which are to be found in Mr. THOMSON's pages, would ever have seen the light, but for the impulse given to the genius of the Bards by the consideration, that their productions would be united to the most delightful music, and handed down to posterity in a work which, for grandeur of design, and elegance of execution, has hitherto, in all probability, never been equalled.

We have no doubt of obtaining Mr. THOMSON's forgiveness for

having taken from the second Volume of his Irish Airs harmo nized by Beethoven, and recently published, the two foregoing songs as a specimen of the poetical contents of the whole work at least, of those volumes, the contents of which have not yet become the property of the public. We do not say we have set lected these pieces, because we can recollect of no case in which we found it more difficult to make a selection than from the present volume. Every song contained in it is so rich, so full of beauties of the rarest kind, and each possesses so many excellences pe culiar to itself alone, that were we to attempt a selection, we should never be able to satisfy ourselves that the pieces we had chosen were better than those we had left behind. On this ac count we only say we have taken two pieces, aud the two we have taken are from the beginning of the volume. They are from the pen of Professor SMYTH of Cambridge,-a Gentleman who has contributed largely to the enriching of the work, and whose pieces unquestionably place him in the first rank of lyric Bards.

On the merits of the musical department of Mr. THOMSON'S work, we are certainly less capable of delivering an opinion; but, were it otherwise, we have no doubt that the judgment ex hibited by Mr. THOMSON in selecting the airs, and the genius displayed by such composers as PLEYEL, HAYDEN, and BEETHO VEN (who have all been successively employed on the work) in harmonizing them, would be found equally above our praise. It may be stated, however, that the airs adopted by Mr. THOMSON are allowed, on all hands, to be the very best of those that are peculiar to the three countries from whose stores he has selected, viz. the Scottish, the Welsh, and the Irish;-and those who are at all acquainted with the names of the three composers abovementioned, will at once see how much their symphonies and ac companiments, executed, as they are said to have been, in their happiest style, must add to the merits, and enhance the value, of the work. In short, we are of opinion that the amateurs of exquisite music, and elegant poetry, will no where find both u nited in higher perfection than in this work of Mr. THOMSON'S; and we are happy in having an opportunity of paying to that

Teman the tribute of our gratitude, both for having united

Be duteous and tender to him, as to me:
Look up to the mercy-seat then;

And passing this shadow of death, which I see,
Come, come to my arms back again.

THE HERO MAY PERISH.

To the foregoing Air.

SET FOR TWO VOICES.

THE Hero may perish his country to save,
And he lives in the records of fame;
The Sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave-
Ever honour'd and blest be his name!
But Virtue that silently toils or expires,
No wreath for the brow to entwine;
That asks but a smile-but a fond sigh requires→→
O Woman! that virtue is thine. *

* Our readers, we are persuaded, will pardon us for again introducing them to Mr. THOMSON,-the Gentleman whom we had occasion to mention so frequently in our first volume as a correspondent of BURNS's, and the Editor of an elegant musical work, for which the greater part of that Poet's songs were expressly written. It is to this Gentleman alone, perhaps, that we are wholly indebted, not only for the best of BURNS's pieces, but also for a great variety of the most admirable lyrics, written by some of the first poets of the present day; for it may be questioned if one-half, or even any at all, of the exquisite songs which are to be found in Mr. THOMSON's pages, would ever have seen the light, but for the impulse given to the genius of the Bards by the consideration, that their productions would be united to the most delightful music, and handed down to posterity in a work which, for grandeur of design, and elegance of execution, has hitherto, in all probability, never been equalled.

We have no doubt of obtaining Mr. THOMSON's forgiveness for

having taken from the second Volume of his Irish Airs harmonized by Beethoven, and recently published, the two foregoing songs as a specimen of the poetical contents of the whole workat least, of those volumes, the contents of which have not yet become the property of the public. We do not say we have selected these pieces, because we can recollect of no case in which we found it more difficult to make a selection than from the present volume. Every song contained in it is so rich, so full of beauties of the rarest kind, and each possesses so many excellences peculiar to itself alone, that were we to attempt a selection, we should never be able to satisfy ourselves that the pieces we had chosen were better than those we had left behind. On this account we only say we have taken two pieces, aud the two we have taken are from the beginning of the volume. They are from the pen of Professor SMYTH of Cambridge,-a Gentleman who has contributed largely to the enriching of the work, and whose pieces unquestionably place him in the first rank of lyric

Bards.

On the merits of the musical department of Mr. THOMSON'S work, we are certainly less capable of delivering an opinion; but, were it otherwise, we have no doubt that the judgment exhibited by Mr. THOMSON in selecting the airs, and the genius displayed by such composers as PLEVEL, HAYDEN, and BEETHO VEN (who have all been successively employed on the work) harmonizing them, would be found equally above our praise. It may be stated, however, that the airs adopted by Mr. THOMSON are allowed, on all hands, to be the very best of those that are peculiar to the three countries from whose stores he has selected, viz. the Scottish, the Welsh, and the Irish ;-and those who are at all acquainted with the names of the three composers mentioned, will at once see how much their symphonies and accompaniments, executed, as they are said to have been, in their happiest style, must add to the merits, and enhance the value, of the work. In short, we are of opinion that the amateurs of exquisite music, and elegant poetry, will no where find both "nited in higher perfection than in this work of Mr. THOMSON'S; and we are happy in having an opportunity of paying to that Gentleman the tribute of our gratitude, both for having united

above

our own airs, and the airs of our sister countries, with the rich and delicate accompaniments of the greatest composers of the age, and also for having so happily succeeded in eliciting, from so many eminent Poets, verses which are not only highly charac teristic of these airs, but which also reflect the highest honour on the talents of the writers, and which, but for the projection of his work, might never have been called into existence.

WHEN FULL IN THE BROAD LIGHT OF HEAV’N.
TUNE-" The fair-hair'd Girl.”

WHEN full in the broad light of Heav'n is display'd
The web of affliction that tyranny weaves,
And power in the spoil of the weak stands array'd,
The heart of humanity grieves.

It weeps at the sight, and it sighs for the day
That brings to the sufferer freedom and peace;-
When men to their proud haughty tyrants shall say,
The reign of oppression must cease.

Dear Erin, long time o'er thy heath-cover'd hills
The loud cry of wrong has been borne on the blast;
The sigh of despair all thy green vallies fills;-
Thy bright-beaming sky is o'ercast.

Around thy low cabins, in days that are fled,
On all hospitality scatter'd her smiles;

The coming she welcom'd, the going she sped-
Her joy was to lighten their toils.

How chang'd now the scene !-in these cabins no more
Thy sons find the joyful delights of a home;
By strangers displaced, on a far foreign shore

Unpitied and wretched they roam.

But cheer thee-the thick heavy clouds break apart; Hope's star thro' the darkness, transported, I see; The time hastens on when thy sons with one heart Shall shake off their chains and be free.

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