A summary vengeance to take they conspire;

But the same holy monk saved his foe from their ire.
He escaped but with life, and as homeward he drew,
His castle's proud towers were already in view,
When, strange to relate, by the Harz forest side,
The Brokenberge spectre lost Ulric espied.

The demon approached and addressed him in scorn,
"Is this mighty Ulric thus lost and forlorn?
Sure he's met with discomfit in tourney or fight,
How likes he the fire that my brands set alight?'
Though dying, he rose, shook his hand in disdain,
But his spirit fled hence with a menace so vain;
With loud shouts of triumph straight vanished the
fay,

And his laugh on the Broken died faintly away.
Hendon, 10th Feb. 1819.

VERSES

J. PERCY.

TO A LADY ON THE NEW YEAR,

Immortalia ne speres, monet annus, et almum
Quæ rapit hora diem.

Hor. Lib. IV.-Ode VII.

MARK, my dear girl, with what swift pace
Time envious steals away,

And in its progress leaves no trace,

But proofs of sad decay.

How soon the varying seasons die,
Usurped by winter's reign;
Ah! see, even now, the cheerless sky
And desolated plain.

Another year is on its way

To give new seasons birth;
Restore its beauty to the day,
Its verdure to the earth.

That year which gives to nature spring,

Our winter nigh declares ;

And the decays our seasons bring

No future spring repairs.

Our spring is now-even now is seen
Its genial power confessed,
Its vernal beauty in thy mien,
Its warmth within thy breast.
Ours is the spring of young desires,,
Parent of soft delights;

"Tis love, almighty love inspires,
"Tis beauty that invites.

Now let us seize the fleeting hours,
Our joys are on the wing;

The present bliss alone is ours—
Life has no second spring.

Malton.

WILLIAM,

SOLILOQUY OF A GARRETEER.*

YE sumptuous monuments, whose cloud-crowned heights

The gaze of wondering man so oft delights;

Ye pyramids, ye tombs, ye buildings vast,

Which prove that art e'en nature's works surpassed;
Ye ruin'd villas, once the Roman's pride;
Ye structures, which our modern arts deride;
Ye glorious proofs of architectural taste;
Ye columns, acqueducts, and temples chaste;
Vast Colosseum too, where thousands stood
Exulting in the sacrifice of blood,

Where beasts ferocious preyed on human gore,
And from the culprit's breast his entrails tore;
Where iron-mantled gladiator's hand

Hath struck his fellow dead upon the sand;
Vast Circus, witness of this foul disgrace,
And oft the scene of whirling chariots' race!
Alas! ye now are mouldering fast away;

Stern Time controuls, (and Time will have his way :)
No cement can his withering touch defy;
All last a time, but at some time must die:-
If 'fore thy power vast pyramids must tumble;
If adamant itself to sand must crumble;

Our correspondent has forgotten to say that this piece is only a paraphrase of Scarron's burlesque sonnet, beginning "Superbes monumens de l'orgueil des humains."

ED.

Wherefore should I complain? Why feel despair,
When after three long years' unceasing wear,
My coat and breeches, once as black as coal,
Are rusty grown and pierced with many a hole?

THE SEPARATION.

To D. S.

ABEL.

FAREWELL!-the wizard Time hath thrown
A separating spell around us,
And broke that magic chain of soul

Which late in brightest union bound us!
Oft from my lips a pensive sigh,

Like Autumn's dying wail, is stealing, As memory wakes, with trembling touch, The slumbering harmonies of feeling. In lettered solitude immured,

Or dancing round the shrine of Pleasure, My heart will turn with pious care

To sweeter themes and blither measure, For oh, when absence looks through space, Each object shines with richer splendour; Eyes flash with more impassioned love,

And lips have charms more sweet and tender. February 4th, 1819.

SONNET TO JUNE.

G. FEIST.

JUNE, thy gay glories may delight thy throng
Whose hearts have never felt keen Sorrow's touch,
Whose days glide on with music and with song,
With not a cloud of thought;---oh yes, to such
Thou art delightful; but for me, whose breast
With many a care, with many a pang is riven,
Whom joy awaits not here, whom even Heaven
Seems bent to punish (such its wise behest),
Can I feel pleasure in the summer scene?

Can I rejoice when Nature thus is gay?
Ah no; the painful thought will intervene
That thus it was when she was snatched away,
She whom my soul delighted in ;-my heart,

Throb not, we yet shall meet, where Death no more can part.

J. Arliss, Printer, London.

"Man's inhumanity to Man,

Makes countless thousands mourn."-BURNS.

IT is universally acknowledged that the condition of man in this life is full of misery and pain; that his enjoyments are few and his griefs many; that he who is the most fortunate must expect at best but a greater degree of exemption from the infelicities which are the lot of those around him; and that he can be more happy only in proportion as he is less miserable than his fellows.

This conviction of the general destiny, it might be imagined, would induce all to assist in endeavouring to ameliorate it; would show that as all are equally liable to suffer, all are equally bound, by duty and by interest, to comfort the afflicted; that as all may need assistance, all should be ready to afford succour; and that as all are guilty, all should be merciful. Such a disposition would indeed lighten the woes of humanity; it would infuse hope into the bosom of despair, and gladden the heart of the widow and the orphan;

VOL. III. No. XVII.

Y

it would remove those griefs which are occasioned by poverty, and lessen those which are caused by the ravages of death; it would restore him who had once erred, to the paths of virtue, and render him again an useful member of that society whose laws he had broken.

But, alas! how far different from this is the conduct of the greater part of mankind to each other! Instead of succouring distress, they render calamity more poignant by persecution; and treat the unfortunate always as criminal. Instead of poverty being considered as a claim to compassion, it is thought a licence for insult; and the cries of misery, instead of exciting them to afford relief to the sufferer, only move them to ridicule his misfortunes, to reproach him with imprudence, to delay assistance until it can no longer be useful; and, when he has perished by their neglect, to boast of their humanity, and to upbraid him with applying too late for that aid, which, when solicited, was retarded or refused.

Hapless indeed is the lot of him whom unforeseen calamity, venial imprudence, boundless generosity, or unsuspecting and ill-placed confidence, has reduced to be dependent on the bounty of others: his own kindness will avail him nothing; those whom he has benefited will consider, not his former favours, but his present inability to bestow others; they will consequently determine, that, as nothing can be gained by assisting him, he should be left to perish without assistance; that as he was prodigal in prosperity, it is fit that he should learn economy by adversity; and that, as it is the duty of every one to provide, in the best manner he can, for himself, it would be imprudent and blameable to employ that in serving another, which at some future period they may themselves be

in need of.

But if the unfortunate are thus persecuted, what may the criminal expect? Can it be supposed that he whose heart is steeled against the sufferings of the virtuous, will be melted to pity by the groans and tears of the guilty? No; the opportunity of indulg ing the innate love of revenge and cruelty, disguised. under the specious appellation of justice, is too gra- *