Exulted, shouting with revengeful joy,
"Thus sink the glories of great Palestine !”

JESUS DISCOURSING WITH THE DOCTORS.

IN the temple, lo! He stands,

With priest and sage, and vested rabbis mix'd,
-on His brow the light

The lost One lingers ;-
Of Godhead! from His lips a stream of words
Is flowing, fraught with unresisted power,

That shook all hearts, the ear of age entranced,
And through the Spirit pour'd celestial rays
Which had not shone before! Each look'd on each
Astounded; wisdom seem'd a thing unwise
By man announced-Divinity was there!

JOHNSON'S STUDY IN PEMBROKE
COLLEGE.

As here I view these venerable walls,

And slow, as in some fane, my footstep falls,
Young hearts would echo to a welcome strain,
And feel as I do, Johnson live again!

O'er Time's vast sea a cent'ry's waves have roll'd,
And many a knell hath unregarded knoll'd,
Since, fondly wrapt in meditative gloom,
The sage of England sat in this lone room :
Yet, well may Fancy, at yon ev'ning fire
Behold him seated; and when moods inspire,
As Sorrow droop'd, or Hope her wings unfurl'd),
His spirit hover through the varied world

Of life and conduct, fortune, truth, or fate,
His future glory, and his present state :

Or when the noon-shine reign'd in golden pow'r,
And dimly smiled some melancholy tow'r,
Muse at his window with far-wand'ring eye,
And feel the freshness of enchanted sky;
Or round the gateway woo admiring ears
To listen, while he charm'd beyond his years,
By spoken magic, or electric wit

That flash'd severe, yet sparkled where it hit :-
A bright deception! far too often seen
To hide the heart where agony has been:
Oh! hideous mockery the mind endures,
To forge a smile whose merriment allures,
To gild a moment with fictitious ray,
Yet feel a viper on the spirit prey!
Departed Soul! how oft, when laughter fed
Upon the frolic which thy fancy bred,
And happy natures, as they saw thee smile,
Seem'd mingling with thy sunny heart awhile,
Back to thy chamber didst thou darkly steal,
And there the hell of thine own bosom feel!
Then sink to slumber with a burning brain,—
To-morrow wake, and wear that smile again!

LISLE BOWLES.

AND thou, whose ever-gentle page is fraught
With the sweet lore poetic sadness taught,
Not unremember'd let thy name be found,
Where Genius hallows an enchanted ground.-
Upon that brow the seal of time hath set
A mournful grace, but left no dark regret
For wither'd years, whose flow'ry bloom remains
In the pure freshness of Aonian strains.
Yet oft will mem'ry in creative gloom

Muse fondly sad o'er many a distant tomb,
Where moulder forms that brighten❜d other days,
Whose eyes have glisten'd o'er thy youthful lays!—
Thy noontide spent, serener twilight glows
Around thy spirit, like a soft repose,

And oft I turn, when fancy wanders free,

Romantic Bowles! to bless a thought with thee:
Oh! long in Bremhill may the village chime
Sound the sweet music of departing time,
And fairy echoes, as they float along,
Awaken visions that were born in song,

Of hope and fame, when first impassion'd youth
Their beauty painted on a world of truth.

LONDON-ITS VICES.

MYRIADS of domes, and temples huge, or high,
And thickly wedded, like the ancient trees
That in unviolated forests frown;

Myriads of streets, whose river-windings flow

With viewless billows of unweary sound;

Myriads of hearts in full commotion mix'd,
From morn to noon, from noon to night again,
Through the wide realm of whirling passion borne,-
And there is London !-England's heart and soul.
By the proud flowing of her famous Thames
She circulates through countless lands and isles
Her queenly greatness; gloriously she rules,
At once the awe and sceptre of the world!

Thou English Babylon! The Book of Life
With records that have made the angels weep,
Each daring moment thou dost darkly fill :-
For whatsoe'er the spirit can reveal
Of fallen nature, in her varying realm
Of sinfulness, is ever shown by thee.

Here, Fraud and Murder on their thrones erect
Infernal standards, and around them swarm
Such progenies, as Vileness, Want, and Woe
Beget, to live like cannibals, on blood;
Or move as crawling Vipers in the path
Of infamy, foul lewdness, or despair.
Here, Misery betrays her wildest form,
And sheds her hottest tear. See! as they rush,
Thy million sons, along the sounding streets,
Upon them how she turns her haggard gaze,
Lifts her shrunk hand, and with heart-piercing wail,
A boon in God's name asks:-but let her die,
And be her death-couch the remorseless stones!
For when the hungry winter blast shall pause
To list the wailing of a lonely tree,
Thy crowds will stop, and pity her despair!

Here Pride, in her most vulgar glory struts;
And Envy all her vip'rous offspring breeds,
To scatter poison with a hand unseen.—
But, Mammon! thou almighty friend of Hell,
Sure London is thy ever-royal seat,

Thy chosen capital, thy matchless home!
Where rank idolators, of every lot

And land, do bow them to the basest dust
That Falsehood, Flattery, or Cunning treads,
From dawn to eve, and serve thee with as true
A love as ever Angel served his God!

See! how the hard and greedy worldlings crowd,
With toiling motion, through the foot-worn ways;
The sour and sullen, wretched, rack'd, and wild,—
The whole vile circle of uneasy slaves.

Mark one, with features of ferocious hue;

Another, carved by Villainy's own hand

A visage wears, and through the trait'rous blood
The spirit works, like venom from the soul!

What rush and roar unceasing! and how strange A mass of objects, as I move along Invisible, amid these floods of life

I see;-a chaos of unnumber'd hearts,

Beating and bounding, charged with great design, And making Fate, at every pulse, to feel,— Before me acts its mighty tragedy!