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In ether pure he pois'd bright orbs immense;
Gave them due laws, for motion and defence-
Among these pond'rous globes our Sun is found,
Like a huge fire, with guests assembled round;-
First Hermes, basking in the solar ray,
By heathen sages term'd the son of May;
A youth of cheerful mien and winged feet,
Ready his father's errands to complete—
Next Venus-fairest of the female train—
Who sprang refulgent from the frothy main;
Sometimes at rosy dawn she shews her face,
Or shines in twilight, with her softest grace.
Then Terra next, a dame, both rich and good,
Who gives her num'rous offspring clothes and food-
A handmaid fair attends her night and day,
Who now reflects-now hides the solar ray;.
A silver crescent binds her brow serene,

"She looks a goddess, and she moves a queen”-
Yonder, great Mars behold! with look austere,
Arm'd with an helmet, shield, and glittering spear;
Whose deeds of carnage fill th' historic page,
Scourge of all nations-dread of every age-
See there! that awful and majestic sire,
Hurling red bolts and lighting, in his ire;
Girded with might, he rules Olympus' host,
Whilst four fair daughters claim his highest boast
More distant yet, one bent with age appears,
His right hand grasps a scythe;-a ring he wears,
Saturn, who's said his children to devour,
Emblem of hoary Time's destroying power;
Seven nymphs, with him, pursue their gelid way,
Scarcely enliven'd by the god of day-

Others are there, in ancient days unknown,
Who move in circles round Apollo's throne;
And others still, who, with unequal pace,

Stray from the rest, through argent fields of space-
This is the glorious group that day and night,
Surrounds the genial source of life and light!
Let haughty science vauntingly explore,
And l'agan ignorance these spheres adore;

Be it our joy, with humble faith to rise,
Beyond the circuit of those starry skies,
Where God, the author of all nature reigns,
And Christ, for contrite sinners, grace obtains.

REVIEW.

Sketches of Corfu, Historical and Domestic; in its Scenery and Natural Productions, interspersed with Legends and Traditions.

London: Smith, Elder, and Co. Cornhill, 1835.

THIS little speck of an island, scarcely larger than the largest of the Shetland or Orkney Islands, has enabled the fair authoress of the volume before us to spread a feast of legendary lore for her readers. Small indeed as is this islet of the Mediterranean, its antiquity and interest are sufficient deeply to engage the attention of a lover of days that are gone. The Coryra of ancient Greece is invested with "a thousand interesting recollections." Here Olysses was shipwrecked; here were the Gardens of Alcinous; here Themostocles took refuge; here Aristotle, with Alexander and his mother, passed a short period; here was the marriage of Octavia and Anthony celebrated. Titus, returning from the conquest of Jerusalem, " came hither for repose." Even Augustus Cæsar, on his way to Rome to be crowned, “did not disdain to alight here." Corfu was equally famous in the middle ages; and although it is now an insignificant and almost unheardof island, its inhabitants still cherish the history and legends of the past; and the lady-authoress of this work has selected such as cannot fail to be acceptable to those of her fair countrywomen who love to revel in the fairy land of fiction and romance.

The intention of the authoress is, perhaps, best told in her own words:

"I am not going to offer you details of all the countries and cities through which I have passed, and which have been described so often and so well. Ah no--I shall write to you only of people, among whom, my long journey over, I have, at last, set up my rest; neither must you expect to hear of arts and institutions, wonders of painting and sculpture, or any other wonders pertaining to a polished

city: such we have not in this far-off island. Snatches of scenery, slight sketches of the strangers among whom my lot is cast, an idle story, or, it may be, an idler song, which strike me as being peculiar to the Weale-this is all you must expect from my untutored pen and desultory habit of scribbling."

The following is one of the "Slight Sketches:"

"When we have passed through the ramparts that enclose the town of Corfu novelty greets us at every step.-Groves of olives; little white churches, not larger than an English cottage, and standing apart, alone, in some sweet solitude; ruined columns, lying prostrate on the site of an ancient heathen temple; groups santry in strange and picturesque costumes; dark-eyed maidens assembled round the fountain at eve, bearing away their classicallyshaped pitchers on their heads: these are the objects which meet and delight us at every step."

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The freedom, rather insolence, of Greek servants is admirably illustrated in the annexed anecdote.

"At the head of Count Assinelli's establishment is a certain Andrea, a shrewd, sensible fellow, fully alive to his own importance. He nursed his master when a child, and seems, on all occasions, ready and willing to advise and direct him now. He has not the slightest idea of being contradicted or controlled. Last evening an 'ami de maison' called to pay a friendly visit; Andrea was desired to bring coffee; ten minutes passed, and no coffee appeared; the little silver hand-bell was rung, Andrea summoned, and the order repeated. Coffee,' he said; 'yes, it was ordered, but never mind it to-night; I have not time to get it.' But,' remonstrated his master, it is for the Signor Yallinà, my particular friend.' 'It does not signify, I suppose the Signor can do without for once; he shall have some another time."

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After a curious and interesting account of several of the ceremonies of the Greek church, and mention of the gross ignorance of the clergy, she observes,

"The word death is never pronounced; they say, 'he sleeps,' 'he is gone.' There are yet people living in Ceptalonia who remember seeing the obolo placed in the coffin to pay old Charon ! The weepers, or myriologists, are still hired.”

The very desultory manner in which the work is written forbid anything more than casual and unconnected extracts; but notwithstanding this defect, if defect it be, it is full of amusing descriptions of the peculiarities of this singular people-Read this graphic sketch.

"We ascended a hill, by the road side to look at the church; for there is scarcely a hill without one on its summit.

On some

benches by the door, and on the steps leading to it, were seated a dozen boys,-ragged happy-looking eight-year-olders; each held a book as ragged and dirty as himself: they were all reading, or rather, chanting at once; while a priest, dressed in threadbare blue velvet robe, fastened round his waist by a leathern girdle, walked up and down before them, also accompanying them with his voice: he held a myrtle bough in his hand, which, occasionally, performed the office of the cane; but this admonitory weapon being, at times, too gentle to fix their wandering attention, he, at last, laid hold of one little urchin's ear, and gave it a very unfriendly twist. It was quite impossible to help laughing, and even the culprit joined. Then the old priest turned round, and seeing it had so amused us all, smiled benevolently; and for our further diversion, tweaked all the boys' ears one after another. So much, as a sample, of a real genuine Greek village school."

Earnestly do we wish we could find room for a legend—There is the "Story of Anastasia." "A tale of the Early Christians." "The history of St. Spiridion." "The Usurper and his Nephew," with many others of absorbing interest-judiciously interspersed with the narrative; but they are too long for extract—the only remedy we know for this, is to recommend the purchase of the book to our readers—If however we cannot find room for a legend, we can for a scrap of poetry and with such we will close our very imperfect notice

"THE BRIDE'S SONG.

A blessing on ye all,

A blessing I, too, claim

Ere I go to dwell in another's hall,

And to bear another's name.

Father! to thee I leave

Three draughts of bitterness:

For morn, for night, for the festal hour; I grieve

To think of thy distress!

One thou wilt drink at morn,

One at the fading eve,

And one-when sounds of mirth on the breeze are borne:
The worst!-for that I grieve!"

It will be easily imagined this was an unwilling bride-but the why and the wherefore, and how the tale ended will be better learnt by following the recommendation above given.

PRINTED BY J. FLETCHER, UPPER HAYMARKET, NOrwich.

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ON THE INFLUENCE OF CLASSICAL LITERATURE UPON THE MIND.

THERE are few pursuits perhaps which excite so absorbing an interest in the human mind as the study of the classical writers of Greece and Rome. Apart from their intrinsic merit as literary productions, there are a few extraneous circumstances which combine to invest them with this charm. The mere circumstance of antiquity often gives to things, comparatively worthless, an inestimable importance. Time is so powerful, and generally so resistless a destroyer, that we welcome any thing rescued from his ravages as a triumph and a trophy, and we look with especial interest on any production of art or nature which comes down to us in the same form as that which History ascribes to it in the

early ages of the world. Thus the antiquarian regards with the

intensest curiosity, and treasures with the most zealous care, those various petrifactions of former times with which the earth is strewn however misshapen or valueless they may appear to the casual observer. But the feeling becomes still stronger when contemplating the relics of art-the work of those beings who once lived, and thought, and acted, amid this busy scene like ourselves; but whose stormy passions have been long since hushed in the stillness of death. There are sympathies in human soulschords which vibrate in mysterious and responsive unison; and when we gaze upon the productions of our forefathers, calculated as they are to call into play all those hidden sympathies, we feel them to be invested with a fascination far more powerful than the mere fact of antiquity could ever have conferred upon them. The pyramids of Egypt are interesting as objects of antiquity; but how much is the interest, which a view of them has a ten

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