And to remind of her-the brook

The fields, the moon,

the beav'ns conspire,

The sun's first fresh delighting look
Is like her eyes' bright fire.

Tho' many feel Life's ruder shocks,
May she escape the storms that lour,
And, like the violet on the rocks,
Live an unbroken flow'r.

Perchance dark years before me lie.
But I shall ne'er-oh! nc'er forget
Her loveliness of heart and eye-
-The lightsome Margaret!

NO. XXIV.

ADDRESS TO THE SEA.

O thou vast Ocean! Ever-sounding Sea! Thou symbol of a drear immensity!

Thou thing that windest round the solid world

Like a huge animal, which, downward hurl'd

From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone,

Lashing and writhing 'till its strength be gone.

Thy voice is like the Thunder, and thy sleep Is as a giant's slumber, loud and deep.

Thou speakest in the East and in the West At once; and on thy heavy-laden breast Fleets come and go, and shapes that have no life

Or motion, yet are mov'd and meet in strife The Earth hath nought of this no chance nor change

Ruffles its surface, and no spirits dare
Give answer to the tempest-waken air;
But o'er its wastes the weakly tenants range
At will, and wound its bosom as they go:
Ever the same, it hath no ebb, no flow;
But in their stated rounds the Seasons come
And pass like visions to their viewless home,
And come again, and vanish; the young
Spring

Looks ever bright with leaves, and blossom

ing,

And Winter always winds his sullen born,
When the wild Autumn with a look forlorn
Dies in his stormy manhood; and the skies
Weep, and flowers sicken when the Summer
flies,

Oh! wonderful Thou art, great Element;
And fearful in thy spleeny humours bent,
And lovely in repose: thy Summer form
Is beautiful, and when thy silver waves
Make music in Earth's dark and winding

caves,

I love to wander on thy pebbled beach, Marking the sunlights at the evening hour,

And hearken to the thoughts thy water

teach

"Eternity, Eternity, and Power."26th August, 1822.

NO. XXV.

The Bill of fare which honest old HERRICK prefixes to his book, "The Hesperides," contains so great a variety of mental morsels, that a reader must be mawkish indeed that can not pick a bone with him here or there. If my taste may be taken (which, I hope, is tolerably healthy), I should pronounce my benediction, and fall to, on a great many of them; though some I confess, would be rejected more for the manner of their cookery, than the consistency of their substance; and others, for lack of gravy and garnish. My palate, too, is so purely English, and homely, that it nauseates at all French and most foreign sauces; though smartly smacking at a slice of British Poetic Beef, garnished with the wildest rose; of which old HERRICK is seldom sparing. Here followeth the "Argument of hys Booke."

28 Aug. 1822.

MUSIPHILUS,

I singe of Brookes, of Blossomes, Birds, and Bowres,

Of Apryl, Maye, of June and July-Flowres, 'I singe of Maye-poles, Hock-carts, Wassailes, Wakes,

Of Brydegroomes, Brydes, and of their Brydal-cakes,

I write of Youthe of Love and have accesse
By these to singe of cleanlie-Wantonnesse,
I singe of Dews of Raines, and piece by
piece,

Of Balme, of Oyl, of Spice, and Amber-Greece
Isinge of Time's trans-shifting; and I write
Howe Roses first came redde, and Lilies
whyte.

I write of Groves, of Twylightes, and I singe

The Court of Mabbe, and of the Faerie

ringe.

I write of Helle; I singe (and euer shalle) Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.

NO. XXVI.

Their whip of Cricket-bone, their lash of film. One could almost imagine from the following Sonnet, (No. 31 of what he calls "Ideas") that Authors were critically cut up and quartered monthly in the days of MICHAEL DRAYTON [born 1563], a Poet, in

hour of noon, high in eminence, of whom I may have more to say hereafter. The present specimen is addressed "To the Critic," by which he surely meant what we now call a Reviewer ;—though the former word is Greek for a Judge, a charac ter implying the combination of Talent, Learning, Wisdom, Benevolence, and Good-humour. I therefore conceive there is the same difference between a true and upstart Critic, as between a noble Judge and scandalous pettifogger.-The word "spirit" in the 6th verse, metrically contracted by the figure Syneresis, is classical and Miltonic, as is the Latinism scarabies" (for beetles) in the last.

Sept. 7th, 1822.

66

MUSIPHILUS.

TO THE CRITIC.

Methinks I see some crooked Mimic jeer, And taxe my Muse with this fantastique

grace,

Turning my papers, askes, "what have we

bear?"

Making withal some filthie antic face. I fear no censure, nor what thou can'st saie. Nor shal my spirit one iotto of vigour lose :

Think'st thou my Witte shall kepe the packe

horse waie,