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And ne'er to fail ? Shall that blest day arrive For you,

in

presence of this little band When they, whose choice or lot it is to dwell Gather'd together on the green hill side, In crowded cities, without fear shall live

Your pastor is imbolden'd to preser Studious of mutual benefit; and he,

Vocal thanksgivings to th’ Eternal King; Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have flowers

made Of every clime, to till the lonely field,

Your very poorest rich in peace of thought Be happy in himself? The law of faith,

And in good works; and him, who is endow'd Working through love, such conquest shall it gain, With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth Such triumph over sin and guilt achieve?

Which the salvation of his soul requires. Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart!

Conscious of that abundant favour showerd And with that help the wonder shall be seen On you, the children of my humble care, Fulfillid, the hope accomplish’d: and thy praise And this dear land, our country while on earth Be sung with transport and unceasing joy.

We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul, “Once,” and with mild demeanour, as he spake, Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude. On us the venerable pastor turn'd

These barren rocks, your stern inheritance ; His beaming eye that had been raised to heaven, These fertile fields, that recompense your pains; “ Once, while the name, Jehovah, was a sound The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain top; Within the circuit of the seagirt isle

Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads, Unheard, the savage nations bow'd the head Or hush’d; the roaring waters, and the still ; To gods delighting in remorseless deeds;

They see the offering of my lifted handsGods which themselves had fashion'd, to promote They hear my lips present their sacrificeIll purposes, and flatter foul desires.

They know if I be silent, morn or even : Then, in the bosom of yon mountain cove, For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart To those inventions of corrupted man

Will find a vent; and thought is praise to Him, Mysterious rites were solemnized: and there, Audible praise, to 'Thee, Omniscient Mind, Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods, From whom all gists descend, all blessings flow !” Of those terrific idols, some received

This vesper service closed, without delay, Such dismal service, that the loudest voice

From that exalted station to the plain Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard Descending, we pursued our homeward course, Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome, In mute composure, o’er the shadowy lake, Though aided by wild winds, the groans and Beneath a faded sky. No trace remain'd shrieks

Of those celestial splendours; gray the vault, of human victims, offer'd up t appease

Pure, cloudless ether; and the star of eve Or to propitiate. And, if living eyes

Was wanting ; but inferior lights appear'd Had visionary faculties to see

Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some The thing that hath been as the thing that is, Above the darken’d hills stood boldly forth Aghast we might behold this crystal mere

In twinkling lustre, ere the boat attain'd Bedimm'd with smoke, in wreaths voluminous, Her mooring place; where to the sheltering tree Flung from the body of devouring fires,

Our youthful voyagers bound fast her prow, To Taranis erected on the heights

With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we By priestly hands, for sacrifice performid

paced Exultingly, in view of open day

The dewy fields; but ere the vicar's door And full assemblage of a barbarous host;

Was reach'd, the solitary check'd his steps; Or to Andates, female power! who gave

Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestow'd (For so they fancied) glorious victory.

A farewell salutation,-and, the like A few rude monuments of mountain stone

Receiving, took the slender path that leads Survive; all else is swept away. How bright To the one cottage in the lonely dell; Th' appearances of things ! From such, how But turn'd not without welcome promise given, changed

That he would share the pleasures and pursuits Th’existing worship! and with those compared, Of yet another summer's day, consumed The worshippers how innocent and blest!

In wandering with us through the valleys fair, So wide the difference, a willing mind,

And o'er the mountain wastes. “Another sun," At this affecting hour, might almost think

Said he, “shall shine upon us ere we part, That Paradise, the lost abode of man,

Another sun, and peradventure more ; Was raised again : and to a happy few,

If time, with free consent, is yours to give,In its original beauty, here restored.

And season favours." Whence but from Thee, the true and only God,

To enfeebled power, And from the faith derived through Him who bled From this communion with uninjured minds, Upon the cross, this marvellous advance

What renovation had been brought; and what Of good from evil; as if one extreme

Degree of healing to a wounded spirit,
Were left-the other gain’d ?-0 ye, who come Dejected, and habitually disposed
To kneel devoutly in yon reverend pile,

To seek, in degradation of the kind,
Calld to such office by the peaceful sound

Excuse and solace for her own defects ;
Of Sabbath bells; and ye, who sleep in earth, How far those erring notions were reformd ;
All cares forgotten, round its hallow'd walls ! And whether aught, of tendency as good

And pure, from further intercourse ensued; This-(if delightful hopes, as heretofore, Inspire the serious song, and gentle hearts Cherish, and lofty minds approve the past) My future labours may not leave untold.

THE ARMENIAN LADY'S LOVE. The subject of the following poem is from the Orlandus of

the author's friend, Kenelm Henry Digby; and the liberty is taken of inscribing it to him as an acknowledgement, however unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numerous and valuable writings, illustrative of the piety and chivalry of the olden time.

You have heard “a Spanish lady
How she wooed an English man;"*
Hear now of a fair Armenian,

Daughter of the proud soldàn ;
How she loved a Christian slave, and told her pain
By word, look, deed, with hope that he inight love

again.
“ Pluck that rose, it moves my liking,"
Said she, listing up her veil;
“ Pluck it for me, gentle gardener,

Ere it wither and grow pale.” “ Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take From twig or bed an humbler flower, e'en for your

sake.”
“Grieved am I, submissive Christian!
To behold thy captive state ;
Women in your land may pity

(May they not?) th’ unfortunate.” Yes, kind. lady! otherwise man could not bear Life, which to every one that breathes is full of

Leading such companion, I that gilded dome,
Yon minarets, would gladly leave for his worst

home.”
“ Feeling tunes your voice, fair princess!
And your brow is free from scorn,
Else these words would come like mockery,

Sharper than the pointed thorn.” “ Whence the undeserved mistrust? Too wide

apart Our faith hath been,-0, would that eyes could see

the heart!”
“ Tempt me not, I pray; my doom is
These base implements to wield;
Rusty lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee,

Ne'er assoil my cobwebb’d shield!
Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
Nor her who thinking of me there counts widow'd

hours.”
“Prisoner! pardon youthful fancies;
Wedded? If you can, say no !
Blessed is and be your consort;

Hopes I cherished let them go!
Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free,
Without another link to my felicity."

“ Wedded love with loyal Christians,
Lady, is a mystery rare;
Body, heart, and soul in union,

Make one being of a pair.” “ Humble love in me would look for no return, Soft as a guiding star that cheers, but cannot burn."

“Gracious Allah! by such title
Do I dare to thank the God,
Him, who thus exalts thy spirit,

Flower of an unchristian sod !
Or hast thou put off wings which thou in heaven

dost wear? What have I seen, and heard, or dreamt? where

am I? where?
Here broke off the dangerous converse :
Less impassion'd words might tell
How the pair escaped together,

Tears not wanting, nor a knell
Of sorrow in her heart while through her father's

door, And from her narrow world, she pass'd for ever

more.
But affections higher, holier,
Urged her steps ; she shrunk from trust
In a sensual creed that trampled

Woman's birthright into dust.
Little be the wonder then, the blame be none,
If she, a timid maid, hath put such boldness on.

Judge both fugitives with knowledge:
In those old romantic days
Mighty were the soul's commandments

To support, restrain, or raise.
Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle

near, But nothing from their inward selves had they to

fear. Thought infirm ne'er came between them, Whether printing desert sands

care."

“Worse than idle is compassion,
If it end in tears and sighs;
Thee from bondage would I rescue

And from vile indignities;
Nurtured, as thy mien bespeaks, in high degree,
Look up-and help a hand that longs to set thee

free.”
“ Lady, dread the wish, nor venture
In such peril to engage ;
Think how it would stir against you

Your most loving father's rage ;
Sad deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame,
Should troubles overflow on her from whom it

came.”
“Generous Frank! the just in effort
Are of inward peace secure;
Hardships for the brave encounter’d,

E’en the feeblest may endure:
If Almighty Grace through me thy chains unbind,
My father for slave's work may seek a slave in

mind.”
“ Princess, at this burst of goodness,
My long frozen heart grows warm !”
“ Yet you make all courage fruitless,
Me to save from chance of harm;

* See, in Percy's Reliques, that fine old ballad, “The Spanish Lady's Love;" from which poem the forın of stanza, as suitable to dialogue, is adopted.

With accordant steps, or gathering

Christian meckness smooth'd for all the path of life, Forest fruit with social hands;

Who loving most, should wiseliest love, their only Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moon

strise. beam Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal

Mute memento of that union

In a Saxon church survives, stream.

Where a cross-legg'd knight lies sculptured
On a friendly deck reposing,

As between two wedded wives-
They at length for Venice steer;

Figures with armorial signs of race and birth,
There, when they had closed their voyage, And the vain rank the pilgrims bore while yet on
One, who daily on the pier

earth.
Watch'd for tidings from the east, beheld his lord,
Fell down and clasp'd his knees for joy, not utter-

ing word.
Mutual was the sudden transport;

THE SOMNAMBULIST.
Breathless questions follow'd fast,
Years contracting to a moment,

List, ye who pass by Lyulph's tower*
Each word greedier than the last;

At eve; how softly then

Doth Aira force, that torrent hoarse, “ Hie thee to the countess, friend! return with speed,

Speak from the woody glen!

Fit music for a solemn vale! And of this stranger speak by whom her lord was

And holier seems the ground freed.

To him who catches on the gale
“Say that I, who might have languish'd, The spirit of a mournful tale,
Droop'd, and pined till life was spent,

Embodied in the sound.
Now before the gates of Stolberg
My deliverer would present

Not far from that fair site whereon
For a crowning recompense, the precious grace

The pleasure house is rear'd, Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

As story says, in antique days,

A stern-brow'd house appear’d;
“Make it known that my companion

Foil to a jewel rich in light,
Is of royal Eastern blood,

There set, and guarded well;
Thirsting after all perfection,

Cage for a bird of plumage bright,
Innocent, and meek, and good,

Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight
Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night

Beyond her native dell. Will Holy Church disperse by beams of gospel light.”

To win this bright bird from her cage,

To make this gem their own,
Swiftly went that gray-hair'd servant,
Soon return'd a trusty page

Came barons bold, with store of gold,

And knights of high renown;
Charged with greetings, benedictions,

But one she prized, and only one ;
Thanks and praises, each a gage

Sir Eglamore was he;
For a sunny thought to cheer the stranger's way,

Full happy season, when was known,
Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay:

Ye dales and hills ! to you alone
Fancy (while, to banners foating

Their mutual loyalty-
High on Stolberg's castle walls,

Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Deafening noise of welcome mounted,

Thy brook, and bowers of holly;
Trumpets, drums, and atabols)

Where passion caught what nature taught, The devout embraces still, while such tears fell

That all but love is folly ;
As made a meeting seem most like a dear farewell.

Where fact with fancy stoop'd to play,
Through a haze of human nature,

Doubt came not, nor regret;
Glorified by heavenly light,

To trouble hours that wing'd their way,
Look'd the beautiful deliverer

As if through an immortal day
On that overpowering sight,

Whose sun could never set.
While across her virgin cheek pure blushes stray'd,

But in old times love dwelt not long
For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

Sequester’d with repose ;
On the ground the weeping countess

Best throve the fire of chaste desire,
Knelt, and kiss'd the stranger's hand;

Fann'd by the breath of foes.
Act of soul-devoted homage,

“A conquering lance is beauty's test,
Pledge of an eternal band:

And proves the lover true;" Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,

So spake Sir Eglamore, and press'd
Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify. The drooping Emma to his breast,

And look'd a blind adieu.
Constant to the fair Armenian,
Gentle pleasures round her moved,

* A pleasure house built by the late Duke of Norfolk Like a tutelary spirit

upon the banks of Ullswater. Force is the word used in Reverenced, like a sister loved.

the Lake District for waterfall.

They parted. Well with him it fared

Through wide-spread regions errant; A knight of proof in love's behoof,

The thirst of fame his warrant: And she her happiness can build

On woman's quiet hours; Though faint, compared with spear and shield, The solace beads and masses yield,

And needle-work and flowers.

Yet blest was Emma when she heard

Her champion's praise recounted; Though brain would swim, and eyes grows dim,

And high her blushes mounted;
Or when a bold heroic lay

She warbled from full heart;
Delightful blossoms for the May
Of absence! but they will not stay,

Born only to depart.
Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills

Whatever path he chooses ;
As if his orb, that owns no curb,

Received the light hers loses.
He comes not back; an ampler space

Requires for nobler deeds;
He ranges on from place to place,
Till of his doings is no trace

But what her fancy breeds.
His fame may spread, but in the past

Her spirit finds its centre ;
Clear sight she has of what he was,

And that would now content her. “ Still is he my devoted knight?”

The tear in answer flows;
Month falls on month with heavier weight;
Day sickens round her, and the night

Is empty of repose.
In sleep she sometimes walk'd abroad,

Deep sighs with quick words blending,
Like that pale queen whose hands are seen

With fancied spots contending;
But she is innocent of blood,

The moon is not more pure
That shines aloft, while through the wood
She thrids her way, the sounding flood

Her melancholy lure !

Hush, hush, the busy sleeper see!

Perplex'd her fingers seem,
As if they from the holly tree
Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly

Flung from her to the stream.
What means the spectre? Why intent

To violate the tree,
Thought Eglamore, by which I swore

Unfading constancy?
Here am I, and to-morrow's sun,

To her I left, shall prove
That bliss is ne'er so surely won
As when a circuit has been run

Of valour, truth, and love.
So from the spot whereon he stood,

He moved with stealthy pace ;
And, drawing nigh, with his living eye,

He recognised the face ;
And whispers caught, and speeches small,

Some to the green-leaved tree,
Some mutter'd to the torrent-fall,-
“Roar on, and bring him with thy call;

I heard, and so may he !"
Soul-shatter'd was the knight, nor knew

If Emma's ghost it were,
Or boding shade, or if the maid

Her very self stood there.
He touch'd, what follow'd who shall tell?

The soft touch snapp'd the thread
Of slumber—shrieking, back she fell,
And the stream whirld her down the dell

Along its foaming bed.
In plunged the knight! when on firm ground

The rescued maiden lay,
Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,

Confusion pass'd away ;
She heard, ere to the throne of grace

Her faithful spirit flew,
His voice; beheld his speaking face,
And, dying, from his own embrace,

She felt that he was true.
So was he reconciled to life;

Brief words may speak the rest; Within the dell he built a cell,

And there was sorrow's guest; In hermit's weeds repose he found.

From vain temptations free;
Beside the torrent dwelling-bound
By one deep heart-controlling sound,

And awed to piety.
Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course,

Nor fear memorial lays,
Where clouds that spread in solemn shade

Are edged with golden rays !
Dear art thou to the light of heaven,

Though minister of sorrow;
Sweet is thy voice at pensive even ;
And thou, in lover's hearts forgiven,

Shall take thy place with Yarrow!

While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,

And owls alone are waking,
In white array'd, glides on the maid,

The downward pathway taking,
That leads her to the torrent's side

And to a holly bower;
By whom on this still night descried ?
By whom in that lone place espied ?

By thee, Sir Eglamore !
A wandering ghost, so thinks the knight,

His coming step has thwarted, Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,

Within whose shade they parted.

WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES. .

William Lisle Bowles, of an ancient family in comparison with those of Dr. Watts, and which are the county of Wilts, was born in the village of admirably calculated to answer the benevolent purKing's-Sutton, Northamptonshire —

-a parish of pose for which they are designed. which his father was vicar-on the 24th of Sep Mr. Bowles some years ago attracted considerable tember, 1762. His mother was the daughter of attention by his controversy with Byron on the Dr. Richard Grey, chaplain to Nathaniel Crew, subject of the writings of Pope. He advanced cerBishop of Durham. The poet received his early tain opinions which went to show that he consieducation at Winchester school; and he rose to be dered him “no poet,” and that, according to the the senior boy. He was entered at Trinity Col- |“ invariable principles” of poetry, the century of lege, Oxford, where he obtained the Chancellor's fame which had been accorded to the “ Essay on prize for a Latin poem, and where, in 1792, he took Man" was unmerited. Campbell opened the dehis degree. On quitting the university he entered fence; and Byron stepped forward as a warm and into holy orders, and was appointed to a curacy in somewhat angry advocate. A sort of literary warWiltshire ; soon afterwards he was preferred to a fare followed; and a host of pamphlets on both living in Gloucestershire; in 1803 he became a sides were rapidly issued. As in all such cases, prebend of Salisbury; and the Archbishop Moore the question remains precisely where it did. presented him with the rectory of Bremhill, Wilts, Bowles, however, though he failed in obtaining a where he has since constantly resided,-only now victory, and made, we imagine, few converts to and then visiting the metropolis,-enjoying the his “invariable principles,” manifested during the country and its peculiar sources of profitable de contest so much judgment and ability, that his light; performing with zeal and industry his paro- reputation as a critic was considerably enhanced. chial duties; and beloved by all who dwell within

The poetry of Bowles bas not attained a high or approach the happy neighbourhood of his resi- degree of popularity. He is appreciated more for dence.

the purity of his sentiments than for any loftiness The Sonnets of Bowles (his first publication) of thought or richness of fancy. He has never appeared in 1793. They were received with con- dealt with themes that “stir men's minds;" but siderable applause; and the writer, if he had ob-has satisfied himself with inculcating lessons of tained no other reward for his labours, would have sound morality, and has considered that to lead the found ample recompense in the fact that they heart to virtue is the chiefest duty of the Muse. contributed to form the taste and call forth the His style is, as Coleridge described it nearly fifty genius of Coleridge, whom they “ delighted and years ago, “ tender yet manly;" and he has uninspired.” The author of " Christabel” speaks of doubtedly brought the accessories of harmonious himself as having been withdrawn from several versification and graceful language to the aid of perilous errors “ by the genial influence of a style “ right thinking” and sound judgment. His poems of poetry, so tender, and yet so manly,—so natural seldom startle or astonish the reader: he does not and real, and yet so dignified and harmonious, as labour to probe the heart, and depict the more viothe Sonnets of Mr. Bowles.” He was not, how- lent passions of human kind; but he keeps an ever, satisfied with expressing in prose his sense “even tenor,” and never disappoints or dissatisfies of obligation, but in poetry poured out his gratitude by attempting a higher flight than that which he to his first master in minstrel lore:

may safely venture. "My heart has thank'd thee, Bowles, for those soft strains,

The main point of his argument against Pope Whose sadness soothes me, like the murmuring

will best exhibit his own character. He considers Of wild bees in the sunny showers of spring."

that from objects sublime or beautiful in themIn 1805 he published the“ Spirit of Discovery by selves, genius will produce more admirable creaSea.” It is the longest of his productions, and is tions than it can from those which are comparaby some considered his best. The more recent of tively poor and insignificant.

The topics upon his works is the “Little Villagers’ Verse Book ;" which Mr. Bowles has employed his pen are such a collection of hymns that will scarcely suffer by only as are naturally excellent.

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