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I would not risk thy peace, or mar thy fate,
As yet no fury blurs Colonia-No!
Her days of anarchy, thank Heaven, are gone !
And it were cheerless to be left alone;
A prudent pause.
We'll prize the haven we have wisely won ;
Till spring returns ;—then up the Rhine we'll run,
But ere the Rambler close his lengthen'd lay,
He'd offer up an anxious ardent prayer,
May spurn those hateful hellhounds ?, who would dare,
And beautiful !-So, ere the knell can toll,
For myriads slain, or goaded to despair, Oh! let us sue for Freedom to the Pole!
A universal prayer.
One kindling spark from Kosciusko's soul !
1 Nothing is farther from the author's intention than to appear the abettor of revolt; for he does not allow that the struggle now making by the Poles can in justice be considered as coming under that head. The feelings of good will towards a brave people, is, we believe, almost universal throughout Europe ; and the desire to see them unshackled from foreign yoke is as generous as it is sincere. Let us then hope that the nation, who had, during one thousand years, been ranked amongst the independent kingdoms of the world, and who can boast of a Sigismond I., who was styled “ The Conqueror of the Russians, Wallachians, and Prussians," and“ Father of his Country ;” of a John Sobieski, a second Vespasian, at once brave, liberal, and just, and of many other distinguished men ;-let us hope, I repeat, that, with such proud recollections to elevate and sustain, Poland may prove herself worthy of her great fame. The eyes of all Europe are on her commander-in-chief Radziwill: But are they not also on Nicholas ? whose humanity is proverbial amongst his countrymen, and whose magnanimity will be yet more exalted, should he throw a veil over what is past (finding an excuse for the disaffected in that love of freedom, which every noble soul must appreciate), and look forward to more happi- , ness to himself, and advantage to his empire, from the gratitude and friendship of a generous race, in whose wishes he had acquiesced, than he ever could have derived, in the short-lived tranquillity occasioned by his being able for a season to stem that mighty torrent, which at no distant period must have again burst forth; for I am not aware that there is a single instance on record of disappointed hope, in a powerful people determined to be free. Had certain nations we shall not now name reasoned thus a few years ago : “ Le mond n'eut pas vu le scandale du partage de la Pologne par des gouvernements constitutionnels.”—Des Destinées Futures de l'Eu
ro pe, page 252.
A lady sues for tales of
Stay, stay, Fitz-Raymond, I must yet entreat,
E’re frost can cripple what now freely flows,
Those touching Rhenish Tales-of wails or woes;
How agony's fell throb oft overthrows
Has woke in me a sympathy which grows
TALES OF SORROW.
THE BROKEN HEART.
You ask me again why those dark weeds of woe ?
hair white as snow ?
No, nor harbours one hope, save the hope soon to die;
widow'd wretch left a prey to alarms.
my prayers were cast all to the wind,
Sometimes too bereft of her reason to roam,
Sad pilgrim! afar from her friends and her home :
For others' ills she said there was a balm,
Some sweet oblivious essence, which the hand
When she would weep to think how he had bled,
Gave to the kind old man foretaste of heaven !
That parent died, -yet still to her remaind
roll'd on, and all the world look'd gay To Adelaide! for Adelaide but saw
The world as it did seem to be, but was not ;