the sea, and close on each returning tide.To a mind capable of projecting and formng these magnificent works, Mr. Madocks. adds an inexhaustible fund and facility of conversation, & an extensive knowledge of, and accomplishment in, the fine Arts. In that of playful Poetry, let the following delicate specimen, printed from his own manuscript, testify.

2d June, 1822.

MUSIPHILUS,

SEE-SAW.

Says HOPE to GRIEF one lowering day,
"Cast off those looks of sorrow,
Come dry your tears, and let us play,
All may be well to-morrow,"

"Ah me!" cries GRIEF, "no leisure hour

The gods assign my fate;

On Love or Friendship, Fame or Pow'r,

Unceasingly I wait."

"Never," crics HOPE, with winning smile, Cherish the fiend Despair,

Yon hamlet see, let's join awhile

The boys at see-saw there."

Now purple lights, and rosy gales

Play round the radiant maid;
Her angel look at once prevails,
GRIEF sigh'd—but still obey'd.

HOPE featly pois'd the trembling beam,
GRIEF made no further pother:

The Spectre sat on one extreme,
The Fairy at the other.

Then came Despair with envious frown;
With scowling eye he gaz'd,

For lo! the heavier GRIEF weigh'd down,
The higher HOPE was raised.

But Mercy, ev'n by angels bless'd,

Smil'd from her starry scope

To see, that GRIEF, the more depress'd,
Look'd up the more to HOPE.

NO. XIV.

THE MOSS-ROSE.

The Angel of the Rose one day
Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay,
That Spirit-to whose charge is given
To bathe young buds in dews of Heaven.
Awaking from his light repose

The Angel whisper'd to the Rose;
"O fondest object of my care,
Still fairest found where all are fair,
For the sweet shade thou'st giv'n to me
Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee."

༎

"Then," said the rose, with deepen'd

glow,

"On me another grace bestow."

The Spirit paus'd in silent thought, What grace was there that flow'r had not?

'Twas but a moment ;-o'er the Rose
A veil of Moss the Angel throws,
And, rob'd in Nature's simplest weed,
Can there a flow'r that Rose exceed?
11th June, 1822.

NO. XV.

"What's in a name? the flow'r we call a rose With any other name would smell as sweet."

The Dove, in her diverging excursions over the Deluge of modern verses, that she may bring home her "olive-branch in the evening," frequently alights on property of which she knows not the owner, and plucks a leaf of which she knows not the name. The generous Author she may thus innocently pillage, must forgive her the petit larceny, for

"A daimen icker in a thrave

'S a sma' request:

He'll get a blessin wi' the lave,

And never miss't."

The ignorance, or omission of the name too, will have its advantages, by exciting the ingenuity and judgment of the various passengers in my poetical Ark. The NAME of a great Poet, has alone frequently conferred popularity on the silliest doggrells;

while, without it, the finest effusions have wasted their sweetness on the toilet, or drawing-room table.-Foibles and fooleries are not confined to Dandies or Dandinelles. Poetry has its fashions, even in a little month, as the fops and fribbles (that have their habitat among its feathers) change their phases," after the moon.' "Music too, that science of Angels, is not without it's mummers. The trashiest Waltz is published with Mozart's NAME-bought with avidity by one fool, carried with rapture to another, who thumbs and elbows it to a third, while a herd behind turn up their eyes in fatuous affectation, like ducks at thunder. Nay, even the HALLOWED name is daily applied, where that of the Devil would be perfectly at home. But I am getting serious, or somewhat like the ancient Philosopher, who, when he looked on the follies and crimes of man, said---he knew not whether most to laugh or weep.---I'll tell a short tale :---The good people of Oswestry may remember their late Recor der, Richd. Hill Waring, Esq. of the Hayes; who died at Leeswood (one of his his seats) 1798. He was a man of very great learning and benevolence, and very eccentric. Among other oddities of dress, he wore, in his water-proof shoes, a large

pair of curious buckles, very bright, which from his opulence, were always supposed to be of pure gold; and as such, were much talked of. These he afterwards gave to his servant William Birch, when (as I have heard him say, and he was a man of great good humour) the buckles instantly turned to brass.-So much for NAME.

The ST. JOHN'S-WORT.

The young maid stole thro' the cottage door, And blush'd as she sought the plant of pow'r ;

"Thou silver glow-worm, Oh lend me thy light,

I must gather the mystic St. John's-wort

to night,

The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide If the coming year shall make me a bride."

And the glow-worm came

With it's silvery flame,

And sparkled and shone

Through the night of St. John,

And soon has the young maid her love-knot tied.

With noiseless tread.

To her chamber she sped,

Where the spectral moon her white beams shed: