(aside.) Ab eterno già sapea

E pero vi mandai là ; Fin dall' ora vi sceglica A bandir la verità.

Of Patriarch old, while pillowed on a stone,
Was seen in vision, mid thick darkness given,
God's fiery-winged troop and God in Heaven!
C. L.
Ambleside.

SONNET.

WILD is the Lake, dark in autumnal gloom,
And white its surf rolls in the silvery gleam;
Swift lights that fleet like phantoms in a
dream,

The shades of autumn fitfully illume,
Like white-robed spirits hovering o'er a
Tomb.

The plaintive winds now swelling in a stream
Of deep-toned music, now subsiding, seem
To form a dirge for Nature's faded bloom.
The yellow leaf whirls frequent through the
air;-

From the full floating cloud capricious
showers,

As, with an infant's playfulness, repair
To variegate the visionary hours:
The elements at work exhaust their powers
To alienate the Poet's heart from care.
Ambleside.

C. L.

Perchance, has somewhat of the flush of health,

Has strength of muscle and the swelling
limb

So man is pitied not; though if he smile,
His smile, like wandering spectre of the night
Apparent in some beauteous Maiden's shape,
Fills with more deadly chill because it wears
Enchantment's form in circumstance of woe;

Though, if he speak, th' incongruous attempt
Betrays the treachery" of his voiceless
thought."

His words are like the sound of crazy bells
Swinging in open air, no longer pealed
By hands accordant; but the tempest wakes
Or sullen breeze, when nightly visitant,
Strange discord from their hoarse and

iron tongues."

His accents, unaccountably impelled,
Or rush with fearful spontaniety,
Or languidly eke out their dying tones;
And sentences half-finished, broken words,
Abrupt transitions, discontinuous thought,
Of intellectual alienation tell.

Say, fared it so with Thee? Then be at
peace!

And may the God the fortitude who gave
To bear the final voluntary pangs,
Receive Thee in the arms of pitying love.
Ambleside.

C. L.

LINES

Written in consequence of hearing of a
Young Man that had voluntarily starved
himself to Death on Skiddaw; and who
was found, after his Decease, in a Grave
of Turf piled with his own Hands.

WHAT didst thou feel, thou poor unhappy
Youth,

Ere on that sod thou laid'st thee down to rest?
-Ah! little know the children of the world
What some are born to suffer! Did some
dread

And perilous recollection blast thy mind?
Did fierce remorse assail thee? Wert thou
torn

With fatal incommunicable thoughts?
I pity thee, poor stranger! in a world
Fearful,a world of nameless phantoms framed
Was thy abode: thou sawest not with eyes;
Thou heardest not with ears; nor felt'st
with touch

Of eyes, or ears, or touch of other men.
Thine was a cruel insulation; thine
A malady beyond the reach of love-
Beyond the reach of melting sympathy.
Oh! when Heaven wills that the external
world

And the internal world should be at war;
When Heaven suffers that sensation's chords
Shall all be out of tune; when every sense
At variance with the other, like a wrenched
And shattered instrument of music, yields
A harsh report of discontinuous pangs
(As infinite in number as in fear),
To the universal influence of life-

ST HELENA.

April 1918. YE cliffs dark and dreary that frown o'er

the main,

Like dross from a furnace confusedly

power,

Your rocks from a submarine crater arose,
And fell in a chaotic shower.

Or if ye once fenced that magnificent isle,

Whose beauty the pages of Plato disclose, Where Happiness shed its retributive smile On bowers of eternal repose.

Oh! whether a remnant of Eden or Hell,

Look well, ye rude cliffs, to your perilous

trust;
Remember there now is confined in your dell
The fiend of war, famine, and lust.

And in the deep dell tho' a paradise bloom,
Though Nature in fulness of beauty be there;
To him bloom and beauty are horror and

gloom,

And peace but remorse and despair.

For fires more intense than the flames of your birth

In his bosom of baffled malignity rage:

What does not man endure? Yet Man, And, to satiate his rancour, the desolate earth

even then,

Were now too contracted a stage!

[Of the two following pasquinades on the late French Ministry, the first was pub ished in the New Times, so long ago as February 1818; and we are chiefly induced to reprint it on account of the sagacity with which it foretold, that “the Duke of Richelieu would be dismissed as soon as the army of occupation was removed;" that "M. Laine was too honest to remain long in such an administration of affairs ;" and that Mole, at that time the creature of De Caze, would soon" set up for himself." All this has come to pass, and M. de Caze has found a new ministry of more devoted and more contemptible creatures even than the former. He has " found in the lowest depth a lower still."]

The King's Crutches.

"UNEASY, alas! lies the head which is crown'd!"
So Shakspeare once sang, and so Louis has found;
The sceptre fatigues him-the diadem's pain,
And he sighs for the quiet of Hartwell again.

But how shall he get there? In vain would he ask
The Royalist band to assist in the task;
They're men, who unbiassed by danger or pelf,
Would save the old Bourbon in spite of himself.

The Jacobin tribe half his wishes would meet,
He has their consent to descend from his seat;
But instead of a passport for "merry Englande,"
Might get, like St Dennis, his head in his hand.

What then could his much-puzzled Majesty do,
But take for his CRUTCHES the Liberal crew?
By safe middle measures, ah! they are the men
To lead him to quiet and Hartwell again.

Richelieu'st just awaked from his Tartary trance,
A stranger to Paris, a stranger to France;
But no man in Europe knows equal to him
The port of Odessa, or province of Crim.

It is hoped that it is not too great a poetic license, to place the fabulous garden of the Hesperides in St Helena. All writers admit that it was in an island of the Atlantic.

+ M. de Richelieu left France a boy, and returned an old woman. All the prime of his life he spent as Governor of Odessa, in Crim-Tartary, and he came to Paris with the rest of the Cossacks. We presume that he will be removed with the Russian army of observas tion, of which he is an essential part.