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Stück, dem wir in unserm Handbuche eine Stelle einräumen zu müssen geglaubt haben; ,Ode to Women, mehr in der Manier des Anakreon, als des Pindar; Ode written in Spring, und Ode written in a visit to the country in Autumn, voll Zartgefühls und lieblicher Bilder ; 9 Hymnen, die zu den vorzüglichern in der Englischen Literatur gehören, und sich durch Erhabenheit, Schönheit und Einfachheit des Ausdrucks vor ähnlichen Werken auszeichnen; the Braes of Yarrow, ein ne Nachahmung einer bekannten 'Hamiltonschen Ballade; Monimia, cin gelungenes Stück, welches gleichfalls in unserer Sammlung abgedruckt ist; the Lovers und a Tale, voll edlen Gefühls und lebhaft vorgetragen; Runnamede (von dem Platze benannt, wo die Magna Charta beschworen wurde), das bedeutendste Produkt unsers Dichters, und verschiedene andere. Anderson fällt über ihn als Dichter überhaupt folgendes Urtheil: He is characterised by that pregnancy of invention, that exquisite sensibility, and that' genuine enthusiasm, which are the invariable sanctions bestowed by nature on every true poet. His poems are the productions of a mind tremblingly

, alive to those fine impulses of passion which form the soul of poetic composition, and familiarised to all the most delicate graces of the poetic art.' He discovers taste and delicacy of sentiment, joined to a great share of poetical imagination. His thoughts are always just, and often striking.

His images are pleasing and picturesque, and his language is for the most part correct and harmonious. Sprightly subjects he treats with ease; in the pathetic and solemn he is a master.

The pensiveness of his disposition, though unfortunate for himself, riched his poetical vein, and shaded his compositions with a tender melancholy. Melpomene, Euterpe and Erato were his favourite muses.

Die prosaischen Schriften Logan's werden gleichfalls geschützt; hier kann indessen von denselben nicht die Rede seyn. Man findet eine Beurtheilung derselben in der den Werken desselben vorangesetzten Biographie des Dichters von Anderson.

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I) ODE TO тив Соскоо.
Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!

Thou messenger of Spring!
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,

And woods thy welcome sing.

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What time the daisy decks the green,

Thy certain voice we hear;
Hast thou a star to guide thy path,

Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful visitant! with thee

I bail the time of lowers,
And hear the sound of music sweet

From birds among the bowers.
The school - boy, wandering through the wood

To pull the primrose gay,
Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear,

And imitates thy lay.
What time the pea puts on the bloom

Thou fliest thy vocal vale,
An annual guest in other lands,

Another Spring to hail.
Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year!
O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!

We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Companions of the Spring.

2) MONIMIA: AN OD B. I. weeds of sorrow wildly digbt, Alone beneath the gloom of night,

Monimia went to mourn;
She left a mother's fond alarms;
She left a father's folding arms;

Ah! never to return.
The bell had struck the midnight hour,
Disastrous planets now had pow'r,

And evil spirits reign'd;
The lone owl from the cloister'd isle,
O'er falling fragments of the pile

Ill-boding prophet plain'd.

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While down her devious footsteps stray,
She tore the willows *) by the way,

And gaz'd upon the wave:
Then raising wild 'to heav'n her eyes,
With sobs and broken accent , cries,
„I'll meet thee in the

grave."
Bright o'er the border of the stream,
Illumind by a transient beam,

She knew the wonted grove;
Her lover's hand had deck'd it fine,
And roses mix'd with myrtles twine,

To form the bower of love.
The, tuneful Philomela rose,
And sweetly mournful sung her woes,

Enamour'd of the tree;
Touch'd with the melody of woe,
More tender tears began to flow,

She mourns her mate like me."
„I lov'd my lover from a child,
„And sweet the youthful cherub smil'd,

„And wanton'd o'er the green;
He train'd my nightingale to sing,
„He spoild the gardens of the spring,

„To crown me rural queen.
„My brother died before his day;
Sad through the church - yard's dreary way,

We wont to walk at eve;
And bending o’er th' untimely ’rn,
„Long at the monument to mourn,

„And look upon his grave.
Like forms funereal while we stand,
In tender mood he held

my hand,
„And laid his cheek to mine;
My bosom beat unknown alarms,
„We wept in one another's arms,

„And mingled tears divine.

*) willow, eine Weide mit schmalen Blättern. Verlassene Liebhaber oder Geliebten, wie man in den Dichtern findet, tragen Kränze von derselben.

,,From sweet compassion love arose,
Our hearts were wedded by our woes,

„ And paird upon the tomb;
„Attesting all the powers above,
A fond romance of fancied love

We vow'd our days to come.
„A wealthy lord from Indian skies,
Illustrious in my parent's eyes,

„Implor'd a mutual mind;
Sad to my chamber I withdrew;
But Harry's footsteps never flew,

The wonted scene to find.
Three nights in dire suspense 1 sat
„Alone; the fourth convey'd my fate,

Sent from a foreign shore;
„Go, where thy wandering wishes tend,
„Go, and embrace thy father's friend,

You never see me more!”
„Despair! distraction! I obey'd,
„, And one disorder'd moment made

„An ever - wretched wife;
„Ah! in the circuit of one sun,
„Heaven! I was wedded and undone,

, And desolate for life!
„Apart my wedding robes I tore,
„And guarded tears now gushing o'er

„Distain d the bridal bed:
Wild I invok'd the funeral yell,
„And souglit devoted now to dwell

„For ever with the dead.
My lord to Indian climates went,
A lette from my lover sent

Renew'd eternal woes;
Before my love my

last words greet,
Wrapt in the weary winding sheet,

„I in the dust repose!"
„Perhaps your parents have deceiv'd,
„Perhaps too rashly I believ'd

A tale of treach'rous art,

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I die;

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Monimia! could

you now

behold The youth you lov'd in sorrows old,

Oh! it would break thy heart! „Now in the grave for ever laid, „A constant solitary shade,

» Thy Harry hangs o'er thee! „For you I fed my native sky; Loaded with life for

you „My love, remember me!" „Of all the promises of youth, The tears of tenderness and truth,

„The throbs that lovers send; The vows in one another's arms, The secret sympatby of charms;

My God! is this the end ?”
She said, and rushing from the bow's,
Devoted sought in evil hour

The promontory steep;
Hung o'er the margin of the main,
Her fix'd and earnest eyeballs strain

The dashing of the deep. Waves that resound from shore to shore, „Rocks loud rebellowing to the roar

„Of ocean, storm and wind ! Your elementaļ war is tame, „To that which

rages

in
The battle of the mind!"
Witb downcast eye and musing mood,
A lurid interval she stood.

The victim of despair;
Her arms then tossing to the skies,
She pour'd in nature's ear her cries,

, My God! my father! where ?" Wild on the summit of the steep She ruminated long the deep,

And felt her freezing blood, Approaching feet she heard behind; Then swifter, than the winged wind

She plung'd into the food.

my frame,

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