Imágenes de páginas

Original and Select Poetry.

521 degree, be considered in a political point sation and political instability, of being of view. His “ Ode to the Volunteers a deserter from a standard under which of Britain," “ The Battle of Alexan- he never marched, and from a corps in dria,” and “ The Ocean," afford such which he had never enrolled himself, honorable testimony of his patriotism, Mr. Montgomery, in his capacity of that no one can dispute his pretensions editor, has taken a proud because it is to rank as a loyal bard; and if his an independent stand, between two great claims as an editor admit of any question contending parties, which divide opiit must arise from his not being at all nions on great public measures. He times perfectly understood when he has may have decided erroneously in some given cxpression to his opinions, which particular cases, (for whose judgment is he always does honestly and impartially. infallible ?) but the expression of his Forced by the profession in which acci- views have always borne internal evident, not choice had placed him, to write dence of being honest ones. upon political subjects, he uniformly This memoir has imperceptibly taken looks at every question he is obliged to possession of more space than is usually comment upon, in the Iris, abstractedly, appropriated to articles of biography in without reference to the party from periodical publications: and yet for the whence the measure originated, or to gratification of such as may wish to that by which it is opposed. Of all know something of the person of its men breathing Mr. Montgomery is per- subject, it may be proper to add, that he haps the last whose constitutional or ac- is rather below the middle stature; quired habit would lead him to political slightly formed, but well proportioned. bostility : but necessitated, sometimes, His coinplexion is fair and his hair yel, however irksome, to give expression to low. His features have a melancholy his opinion, by way of making the labour but interesting expressión when bis imas pleasant, he often indulges the sportive. gination is at rest; but when that is ness of his fancy, and in his retrospects awakened by the animating influence of or leading articles, whilst he penetrates conversation (especially on questions of to the very heart's core of his subject, le importance or of feeling) his whole counexhibits such a vein of good-natured, tenance (and particularly his eyes, which though deeply-searching satire, and em- beam intelligence) is irradiated by his bellishes his reasoning with so much wit genius. His modesty, and scclusion of and pathos, such a playfulness of style, manner, in the company of strangers, and such a complete mastery of lan- have tendency to liide from common guage, that superficial readers almost observation the riches of his mind; but constantly set him down as the partizan when familiar intercourse has broken of the parti, who, at the moment, take the talisman which seals his lips on intro, the same side of the question, which the duction, his colloquial powers are found editor of the “Iris," from its own abstract to be of the first order. His ideas have merits, and his own unbiassed view of au able auxiliary in his eloquence ; for the subject, has heen induced to advocate. language is subservient to bis will, and The same erroneous mode of judgment though in a war of woris an opponent has been applied at other times on read- must often smart beneath the last of ing his paper, by persons who, forgetting his wit, and the severity of his retort, that an honest man is of no party but the amiableness of his vature instantly that of truth, as it may appear to liis furnishes a balm to heal such wounds, own eyes, have accused him of tergiver:




When its pulse to new beauties is sweetly In Imitation of Thomas Moore, Esq. awake, Ir the heart ever loves to repose in the To the land let it fiy, where true loveliness dreams

blesses Of Paradise, pictured in flowers and beams- The heart that will haunt her, the smile that If the glimpses of bliss, alldelight.all elysian, caresses! E'er flashed on the soul in its loveliest vision; If the spirit partakes of the light it surveys,

"Tis the clime of the East! Oh! how bright

to behold Its essence compounded of roses and rays; With a bound, such as Fancy must every

All the mildness of morning now mclt into where make

gold! New MONTHLY MAO.-No. 60. VOL. X.

3 X

is gone;


gay duties

Original and Select Poetry.

[Jan. 1, Each shadowy tint that the night left behind, Now brightens, like Hope, on the fears of The gleams are now glancing from domes of mankind;

Semars And the daylight is hailed by the nighting in the quick, twinkling motion that play. gale's hymn,

upon stars : And the purple pomegranate looks darkly And the pilgrim his beads at this holy hour and dim;

counts, The camel, just roused, now awakes from In the cool cedar groves, where the Hyaline the dells,

founts Whilst Echó repeats his light tinkling of Thro' beds of pure amber roll mellowly on, bells :

In a sweet pensive murmur, when daylight And the Jessamine odors that rise from the bowers,

And beauteously wild, with their frontlets of And the hues of new beauty, all glowing in pearls, flowers,

From their bright mountain homes come All breathe, and all smile, as if they had been

the Jessamere girls. born

Like the flower that till night all its loveTo welcome, in bliss, the delights of the

liness keeps,

And spreads its perfume, whilst each other Then the day!-oh! when radiance is purest So the young Indian maids to the evening's

one sleeps; of beam, When the sky is all light, what a heaven does it seem!

Spring forward at once, in a line of young

beauties, Like a calm, sunny islandless ocean above,

And reveal, now and then, in the mirth of Hang the pure chrystal clouds of those re

their dances, gions of love. Nor does Earth less enchantingly shinemat The visions of love in the light of their

glances ; this hour

Whilst the timbrel, and tabor, and nightinThe humming-bird shoots from the tree to the flower;

gale's song, And the beams, ever busy, illume as he Join Echo's wild melody all the night long. springs,

Tullamore, Sept. 1818.

J. F. And betray all the topaz and gold of his wings;

To ****, Whilst the falling of waters—green rising Who was complaining that she had forgotof hills,

ten her Sister's Birth-day. And the soul-melting odors that summer Grieve not tho’ Fanny's birth-day's past

distils, Combine all their beauties, and sweetly When days are bright and hours fly fast

Without one joyous rhyme;impart

Who measures bliss by time? A bliss to the eye, and a balm to the heart.

When sorrow dims our darkling way And the evening :-how beauteous, when

Such lonely gleams are dear; brilliancy dies

But who can mark one happy day, In a milder luxuriance o'er Easterly skies,

It happy thro' the year? To behold the sweet pillow on which it re

Such sweet forgetfulness be thine; poses In the west, tinged with lilies half mingled No need of gift, or votive line,

So ever live and love; with roses.

The fond glad heart to prove. Like the soft shining maid that is languidly

stealing All the ore of the heart, in th' enchantment

STANZAS, *of feeling;

Written at Hallon Castle, Cheshire. So the calmness of evening, more tenderly glows,

Bright is the sky-a morrow fair portend-, Than the radiance of pomp that a day-beam

ing; bestows. ?

The mists of eve hare wept themselves to Oh, how lovely looks light! and its shadows

tears; how tender,

And night's pale queen, her sapphire throne When fades into twilight this farewell of

ascending, splendor!

In cloudless state her silvery crescent rears. Like the music that Fancy will oftentimes the stars are met--the mountain gales are hear,

sleepingIn her dreams of delight, indistinctly more A dewy freshness fills the fragrant air; dear;

And Silence, 'round-unbroken vigils keepSo the whispers of melody-- far, far away,

ing, Seem to hymn with wild strains the depar- Ne'er waved her wing o'er aught more ture of day.

wild and fair,


Original and Select Poctry.


lease ;

Oh! 'tis a scene might still mad Passion's

STANZAS. raging!

Asli'st thou, why from gay circles stealing From stern, vindictive thought afford re

I love to bend my lonely way?

Oh! 'tis because the burst of feeling With mystic power, each stormy burst as

No sordid souls are near to stay! suaging, Soothe the torn soul with “ moonlight, For, not to the cold crowd unheeding, balm, and peace.”

Would I e'er seem a grief to feel ;

The wounds from which the breast is bleedWho ever marked yon orb, so sweetly shin

ing, ing, Nor dreamt of worlds beyond all mortal

They probe-without the power to heal! ken?

I want not pity from the throng, Who e'er beheld it thus--and, unrepining,

Who need the tears they feign to give;Bent back his footsteps to the haunts of I only wish to pass along men?

Unmarked--unnoticed still to grieve.
July 20th, 1817.
A. A. W. 1816.



The patriot, to the hero's claim, Written on the Field of Waterloo. Bows his proud soul, with grief cpprest ; (From the Courier.)

But there are those, with whom their name Ye are gone to your narrow beds,

Is still more lov'd, more fondly blest : Ye forms of the martyr'd brave!

For wheresoe'er we turn our eyes, The green-grass sod springs o'er your heads,

This wide-extended plain around,

1,1 And the wind blows round your grave:

The Father, Brother, Husband lies But the green sod that blooms above

Beneath the undulating mound. Is water'd by the tears of love;

How many ad eye, ye truly brave! And the wild wind that wanders by,

Has thanked you for the lives you gave.

A Is mingled with Affection's sigh.

Ye fondly lovd! how many a tear

Has witness'd to your virtues here: Oh! when ye sunk on your bed of death,

iset bra

Call not the warrior's grave unbtest; No gentle form hung over you ;

Though, 'mid this silent solitude, No fond eye caught your parting breath,

The grey stone rise not o'er his breast, Or sunk in anguish from the view.

Nor holy pile may here be viewd; But o'er you, in that hour of fate,

There is a charm more sweet—more pure Bent the dark Gaul's revengeful form; Than human art has ever thrown; And the stern glance of ruthless hate,

Yes, there are records, more secure Gleam'd dreadful ʼmid the hurrying storm.

Than marble bust, or sculptur'd stone; No mourning dirge did o'er you swell, The gentle sigh of sorrowing love,

Nor winding sheet your limbs inclose, The hapless mourner's silent tear, For you was toll’d no passing bell ;

Shall here that better guerdon prove, No tomb was rais'd where you repose; That holier calm, shall whisper here. ' 1,1 For your bed of death was the battle ground, When Egypt's tombs shall all be rent, 'Twas there they heap'd your funeral mound, And earth's proud temples swept away, And all unhallow'd was your grave,

Your deeds, a deathless monument, as Save by the ashes of the brave.

Shall guard your glory from decay, : 1'. Then to the warrior's memory A monument of love we'll raise;

THE LATE QUEEN OF And Veneration's heart-felt sigh

King's chamber Shall waft their fame to distant days.

in 1812. Daughters of Albion! swell the strain ;

(From the German of Breuner.) More loudly raise the funeral song ;

Thou’rt gone from us,to weep no more il And, wide o'er all the fatal plain,

Thy day of grief-of glory's o'er-
The record of their deeds prolong.

In Fortune's last extremity,
Ye fix'd, oh, ye brave! when for us ye died, Princess't was well for thee to die!

On every heart an endless claim; Death calms the wretched-frees the slave,
When ye sunk in the battle's blood-red tide, Can insult reach thee in the grave?
Ye bought by your death, a deathless. The tyrant now may taunt and scora-

No more thy noble spirit's torn-
More great than the warrior's of ages gone, Oh! for the hour-a freeman's steel
More great than the heroes of Marathon ; Shall teach his callous heart to feel;
They, from one land, a tyrant hurld, Oh! for the time he lies as low
Ye crush'd the tyrant of the world. Cursd deep-not bless'd, as Angel, thou;
The hour that stopt your course for ever; I saw thee--never left mine eye

Stopt many a gay heart's joyous swell; Thy first proud glance of majesty-
Sweet hopes were nipt, to blossom never, Proud, yet most sweet, a starting tear

When, smote, in glory's lap you fell. Told that a woman's heart was there.

On seeing her Bust in the PRUSSIA;


Infancy of George II).

[Jan. 1, Tby shoek is still before mom-pale

As the faint leaf on Autumn's gale-
Then, lighted up with burning tinge,

(From the Franklin Gaselle.) As o'er it from thine eye's dark iringe

* This world is all a fleetiog shew." Came drop by drop, the tears of pain,

NOORE. At some new galling of thy chain; Some slighting sulien courtesy,

There is an hour of peaceful rest Of him who could not honour thee.

To mourning wand'rers given : Fiend of the Earth |--Napoleon !

There is a tear for souls distrestWhat could'st thou of such hearts havo A balm for every wounded breastknown?

'Tis found aboven in heaven! Yet there was one who felt--who feels The wound time widens-but not heals;

There is a sost, a downy bed, Pierc'd to the soul with every sting

'Tis fair as breath of even; That Fate might point against a king;

A couch for weary mortals spread, The man had one more misery

Where they may rest the aching head,
To meetmand met it losing thee.

And find repose-in heaven!
Thou'rt past from mortal to divine ;
Princess, thy chamber's now thy shrice :

There is a home for weeping souls,
No more to beam, no more to weep,

By sin and sorrow driven; Thine eyes are in the grave's dark sleep;

When tost on Life's tempestuous shoals, Yet lives there in this breathless stone

Where storms arise and ocean rolls, What spells

And all is drear--but heaven ! eye to gaze upon I cannot tell the charm---the eye

There faith lists up the tearful eye, Is caught, fix'd, filid, unconscious why. The heart with anguish riven; "Tis not thy soft yet stately brow,

And views the tempest passing by, Sweet stooping eyelid-hair's rich tlow, 'Tis the deep grace that seems to wind

The evening shadows quickly fly,

And all serene-in heaven!
O'er all---the relique of thy mind :
And this, the end of birth and bloom,

There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, Tears, terrors, exile, and the tomb

And joys supreme are given ;
No; the stern heart that laid thee there

There rays divine disperse the gloom,
Shall drop with blood for every tear; Beyond the contines of the tomb
For this, from fame, hope, mankind driven, Appears the dawn of heaven!
As sure as there's a power in heaven-
That crime's not made to be forgiven.



bably the head gardener of one of the EVERY circumstance, however mi- palaces. This person, beside the recomnute, which exemplifies traits in the mendations of an excellent constitution, character of our excellent and beloved and much experimental skill, was chasovereign, must, at the present moment, racterized by qualities which so endeared be peculiarly interesting to all hearts of her to the King, that his attachment feeling and loyalty ;---to such, therefore, towards her, never, during her existthe following domestic particulars are ence, experienced the slightest diminuconfidently addressed: they are given tion. She possessed great quickness of on the authority of a lady,* who, when feeling, much goodness of heart, with living, was personally acquainted with a disposition both disinterested and his Majesty's nurse and her daughter. cardid.

The King, as most people have heard, The two former of these qualities apwas a seven month's child, and, from pear to have instantly opened her affecthat circumstance, so weakly at the pe- tions to the nursling offered to ber care: riod of inis birth, that serious apprehen not, however, from privie, at the idea of sions were entertained that it would be its being a babe of royal blood; but impossible to rear him. It was, in con- from the maternal tenderness excited sequence, thought advisable to wave the while contemplating the delicate little strict etiquette hitherto maintained, of being, whose frail tenure having for the royal infant a nobly de- she was confident, under her mapagescended purse, in favour of one in the ment, would become strong and permamiddle ranks of life - he fine, healthy, nent. These frelings caused her at the fresh-coloured wife of a gardener, pro- first proposal cheerfully to undertake

the anxious charge, but when it was * The writer's mother.

wade knowa to her, that, according to

on life

Beauty in England, France, and Italy.

535 the court etiquette, the royal infant up, whether from misfortune, or from could not be allowed to sleep with her — her husband's extravagance, was frefrom an etiquette so cold, and, in the quently in great want of money. On present case, so likely, in her opinion, these occasions she always went to the to prove prejudicial, she instantly re- Prince, well knowing that if he could revolted, and, in terms both warm and lieve their distress, it would immediately blunt, thus expressed herself:-“Not be done; and if not that his affectionate sleep with me! then you may nurse the sympathy would soothe her mind.boy yourselves."

Never was she disappointed of this conTo no compromise (or rather reason solation, for when the Prince found ing) offered, would she listen; but con hiinself unable to administer to their tinued resolutely to refuse to take charge exigencies, he has actually been known of the royal infant, if bound to observe to mingle his tears with her's—a syma ceremony which no argument could pathy which speaks volumes in love and make her think otherwise than alike admiration of the heart that felt it. unnatural and unhealthy.

Whether his nurse lived to taste his This refusal of an office, which many Majesty's generosity to the full extent persons would have been ambitious of he felt it-if ever heard by the writer, filling under any restrictions whaterer, memory has lost: but the daughter, who upon motives, too, so purely disinterest- married, (the writer thinks i doctor of ed, convinced those with whom she was divinity, and was, perhaps, the King's in debate, of her conscientious belief, that foster sister,) was made laundress to his unless the infant prince was intrusted Majesty-asinecure place of good emoluto her sole management, she must, in ment. accepting the charge, engage to act in

BEAUTY IN ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND opposition to her own judgment, and

ITALY. thus sacrifice what she considered her duty to him. Influenced by this convic

By M. STENDHAL. tion, they properly represented the af Ancona, May 27.—1 met, at St. Cirac, fair to the powers by whom they were a Russian general, a friend of Erfurt, employed; in consequence of which, the who had just come from Paris. point of court ceremony was yielded A physical peculiarity of the French to Mrs.

To this conscientious shocked my Russian friend very much; obstinacy on her part, it is more than the dreadful leanness of the most of the probable that the nation owes the bless- dunseuses at the Opera. In fact, it seems ing it has for so many years enjoyed, to me, on reflection, that many of our of being governed by one of the best of fashionable women who are extremely men, and of kings, that ever united in slender, have caused this circumstance himself the virtues which grace both to enter into the idea of beauty. Leancharacters. But to return -

ness is in France considered necessary The affection of his Majesty for his to an elegant air. In Italy, people think, nurse “grew with his growth and very rationally, that the first condition strengthened with lis strength;" but of it is the air of health, without which as his power did not keep pace with his there iz no voluptuousness. increasing regard, it was long before he The Russian is of opinion that beauty could prove that regard to her and her is very rare among the French ladies. family as substantially as his heart yearn He maintains that the finest figures he ed to do. His income wiis considered, saw at Paris were English women. even at that time, as too linired for If we take the trouble to count in the one of his high rank; and of course, Bois de Boulogne, out of a hundred though regulated by the strictest, pru- French women, eighty are agreeable, dence and economy, le has little to and hardly one beautiful. spare, from the necessary expenses of hun:red English women, thirty are grohis household, for the gratification of tesque, forty are decidedly ugly, twenty his generous feelings. These were often tolerably well, though nuussades, and distressingly called forth by the situation ten divinities on this carth, from the of his nurse, who, after lie was grown freshness and innocence of their beauty.

Out of a hundred Italian women, The circumstance, but not the name, thirty are caricatures, with face and made, at the time of hearing it, a lasting neck besmeared with rouge and powder, impression on the mind of the writer, when fifty are beautiful, but with no other a child.

attraction than an air of roluptuousness ;

Out of a

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