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POETICAL

ESSAY S.

ALONZO THE BRAVE, AND FAIR IMQGINE;

A ROMANCE.

[From a Novel, entitled "The Monk.”] A Warrior fo bold and a virgin fo bright Convers'd, as they fat on the green; They gaz'd on each other with tender delight! [knightAlonzo the Brave was the name of the The maid's was the Fair Imogine. "And, oh (said the youth) fince tomorrow I go

to flow,

To fight in a far diftant land, Your tears for my abfence foon ceafing [beffow Some other will court you, and you will On a wealthier fuitor your hand!" "Oh, hufh these suspicions, (fair Imogine faid)

Offenfive to love and to me! For, if you be living, or if you be dead, I fwear by the Virgin, that none, in your ftead,

Shall husband of Imogine he. "If e'er I, by luft or by wealth led afidé, Forget my Alonzo the Brave, God grant, that, to punish my falsehood and pride, [my fide,Your ghoft at the marriage may fit by May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,

And bear me away to the grave!" To Paleftine haften'd the hero fo bold; His love-the lamented him fore:But, fcarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd, when, behold,

A baron, all cover'd with jewels and gold,
Arriv'd at Fair Imogine's door!
His treafure, his prefents, his fpacious.
domain,

Soon made her untrue to her vows: He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain; [vain He caught her affections fo light and fo And carried her home to his houfe!

And now had the marriage been bleft by the priest;

The revelry now was begun;

The tables they groan'd with the weight of the feaft; [ceas'd, Nor yet had the laughter and merriment When the bell at the caftle to!ld

one!

Then firft, with amazement, Fair Imogine found,

That a ftranger was plac'd by her fide. His air was terrific; he utter'd no found; He spokenot, he mov'd not,-helook'd not around

But earneftly gaz'd on the bride! His vizor was clos'd, and gigantic his height;

His armour was fable to view:All pleasure and laughter were hush'd at his fight; [in affright; The dogs, as they ey'd him, drew back The lights in the chamber burn'd blue! His prefence all bofoms appear'd to dif

may;

The guests fat in filence and fear; At length spoke the bride, while the trembled," I pray, Sir knight, that your helmet afide you would lay,

And deign to partake of our cheer!" The lady is filent: the ftranger complies; His vizor he flowly unclos'd:Oh, God! what a fight met fair Imogine's eyes! [furprife, What words can exprefs her difmay and When a fkeleton's head was expos'd! All prefent then utter'd a terrified shout,

All turn'd with difguft from the scene; The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept out, [about, And fported his eyes and his temples While the fpectre addrefs'd Imogine: "Behold me, thou falfe one! behold me! (he cried)

Remember Alonzo the Brave!

God grants, that, to punish thy falsehood and pride, thy fide,My gooft at thy marriage fhould fit by Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride,

And bear thee away to the grave!"

. Thus

Thus faying, his arms round the lady he | Le ciel, fouvent terrible en fes decretss M'ota la moitié de moi même:

wound, While loudly she shriek'd in dismay; | Je resistois-Mon fils, tu m'ordonnois Then funk with his prey through the

wide-yawning ground!
Nor ever again was Fair Imogine found,
Or the spectre who bore her away.
Not long liv'd the baron; and none fince
that tone

To inhabit the casile presume;
For chronicles tell, that, by order fublime,
There Imogine fuffers the pain of her
crime,

And mourns her deplorable doom. At midnight four times in each year does her ipright,

When mortals in flumber are bound, Array'd in her bridal apparel of white, Appear in the hall with the skeletonknight,

And fhriek, as he whirls her around! While they drink out of fkulls newly

torn from the grave, [feen: Dancing round them the spectres are Their liquor is blood, and this horrible ftave [the Brave, They howl-"To the health of Alonzo And his confort, the Falfe Imogine!"

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Trainer long-tems mon exiftance?
Unfiécle, hélas! chaque jour devant moi
S'écoule in doublant ma fouffrance.
Chaque matin, je voyois mes rideaux

S'ouvrir fous ta main innocente;
Et j'oubliois plaifirs, peines, et travaux,
Bercé de cette douce attente.
Mais en prifon-en proie au défefpoir,
Sans toi je vois lever l'aurore;
Et t'appelant, te cherchant jufqu'au foir,
Sans toi je me retrouve encore.
Le col preffé par tes deux petits bras,

Je courois les champs, le bocage;
Ercent bailers donnés à chaque pas,
Des oifeaux couvroient le ramage.
Mais lorsqu'un fonge au milieu de la nuit
Sur mon fein t'apporte et te place,
Au bruit des fers foudain ton ombre fuit!
Je m'éveille, et mon fang fe glace.

De calmer ma douleur extrême.
Mais d'un exil s'il faut fublr la loi,

Comment fupporter ma misère ?
Comment mourir, fi je ne puis de toi
Porter un baifer à ta mère?

IMITATION,

By HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS.
MY child! and muft I far from thee

Each day, a ling ring age to me,
The hateful load of life fuftain?.

Augments thy captive father's pain.
Thy fportive hand, my babe, undrew
Each morn the curtains of my bed;
And every care my bofom knew,
At eve in thy endearments fled.
Now here enchain'd, my foul's delight!
In vain for thee at morn I cali;
Unbleft, my infant, by thy fight,

The gloomy fhades of evening fall.
Thine arms around my neck, we rove

No more thro' flow'ry paths of blifs;
Where, with the warblings of the grove,
How sweetly blends thy frequent kifs!
Oft when the cherish'd dream of night
Has plac'd thee on my yearning breaft,
The clanking fetter puts to flight
The image that my foul carefs'd.
I faw in beauty's early bloom

Thy tender mother yield her breath;
For thee I liv'd-for thee my doom
I mourn, of exile, or of death.
Alas, in exile what despair!

These eyes no more my child fhall fee!
In death what pangs-unless I bear
Thy mother one embrace from thee!

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day;

With fmile triumphant over Death and Time, [fublime. Lifts the rapt eye, and rears the form Wrexham, for thee thus rofe, by mental pow'r,

Fair modern Science o'er the arts of yore; For thee exulting fhe entwines the wreaths, [breathes,

As Sculpture fpeaks, and heav'nly Mufic Since great Roubilliac decks thy facred fhrine, [divine*.

And Genius wakes thy Randal's harp

THE MISER.

Meridian loveliness, majestic grace,
Stream o'er her form, and lighten in her A Greedy wretch his patrimony fold,

face; [fluence dart While fenfe and virtue's blended inThe look, the voice, refiftlefs to the heart. Not only, Wrexham, do thy circ'ling

groves

[loves, Boaft the fair virtues, and the radiant There Hayman's fong, with its enchanting powers, Floats through thy vales, thy manfions, and thy bowers;

Her hallow'd temple there religion shows,
That erit with beauteous majesty arofe
In ancient days, when Gothic art difplay'd
Her fanes, in airy elegance array'd,
Whofe nameless charms the Dorian
claims efface,

Corinthian fplendor, and Ionic grace;
Then plied, with curious skill, now rare-
ly shown,
[flone.
Th' adorning chiffel, o'er the yielding
But as thofe graces which alone delight
With their fine forms the captivated fight,
Mufl not afpire to emulate the art
That, while it charms the eye, pervades

the heart,

See, Gothic elegance the palm refigns, When art in intellectual greatnefs fhines. Bright as in Albion's long-distinguith'd fanes, [reigns. Within thefe holy walls, fhe lives, the Her fainted maid, amid the burting tomb, [gloom, Hears the last trumpet thrill its murky

* Mrs. Fletcher of GwernheyledGwernheyled means Sunny Alders. + The two mifs Apperlys.

Mrs. Parry Price, late of that neighbourhood.

The lady of fir Fofter Cunliffe, baronet.
Watkin Hayman, efq.
Westminster.

And turn'd his fruitful land to bar

ren gold;

And, left the fum by using should decay, Committed earth to earth, and clay to clay.

His wealth thus bury'd in a secret hole, And, with his bags, his very heart and foul,

To their dear tomb he daily vifits made, And at that fhrine his whole devotion paid.

A needy fellow, who obferv'd his walk, And guefs'd the ghoft did near fome treafure ftalk,

Came to the place; and, when he try'd the ground,

The rich depofitum, rejoicing, found: He blefs'd his fortune, and his booty bore, To fpend it fafely on a foreign fhore.

The owner foon return'd to watch his

coin, {mine. But found another hand had digg'd the Sad figns inform'd hîm his delight was gone, (flown.

His yellow-hammers from the neft were Sunk by this lofs into profound defpair, He beat and tore his guiltless breaft and hair,

Hisraging forrow in no bounds restrain'd, And gave convincing proofs it was not A friend that faw him in this tranffeign'd.

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ton's monument by Roubilliac, in the chancel at Wrexham.

Mr. Randal, organist of Wrexham ; an excellent performer on the pedal harp. **Sainted Maid. Mrs. Mary Middle-He has been blind from his infancy.

Bury

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"THE PAINS OF MEMORY ;" A Poem. By Mr. MERRY. DOWN in yon glade, befide that glaffy pool, [village fchool; There fands, and long has flood, the Hark! the gay murm'rings of the fportive train, [the plain;

Freed from reftraint, that gambol o'er Lift their fhrill voices, and their bursts of glee!

Will future years recal their ecftafy? Perchance, fome one, hereafter, of the band, [land, From the brown fummit of that jutting Shall eye the well-known fpot, the selffame fcene, [between; And the thin fpire that peeps thofe groves Shall mark the peafant plodding as before, And the trim housewife at the cottage door;

Shall hear the paufing bell's pathetic toll, Borne on the gale, announce the parting foul [hood kind, Of fome old friend, who, to his childPrepar'd the kite, and ftream'd it to the wind; [known, Some bufy dame, for cakes and cuftards Who gave him credit when his pence [toil, Some truant ploughboy, who, neglecting Join'd him to feize the tempting orchard's fpoil;

were gone;

Or, in defpite of peril, fpread the fnare, As through the thicket pafs'd the nightly [life,

hare; Then fhall be think on all the woes of His thanklefs children, or his faithlefs wife,

His fortune wafted, or his wishes croft, His tender brother, fifter, parents, lost, Till, every object finking into fhade, He figh, and call oblivion to his aid.

The buxom lafs, who late fecure from harm, [the farm; With gay importance buftled through Tended her dairy at the break of dawn, Or fed her circling poultry on the lawn; O'er the wash'd floor the cleanly fand let fall, [the wall; And brush'd th' unfeemly cobweb from

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ale,

nown,

Or jok'd the thrasher leaning on his flail; By vain ambition led at length to town, In queft of fortune, and fuppos'd re[rake, If there, the victim of fome worthle fa She chance its fickly pleasures to partake, Mix'd with the pamper'd crowds whofe looks ditclaim [shame;

The fmile of virtue and the blush of Will the not oft regret the chearful day, When sport and freedom hail'd th' approach of May,

And many arural pair beguil'd the hour, With ev'ning dance beneath the moon. light bow'r? [rove Or to her fad fate left, condemn'd to The lawless paths of defultory love, Will not her tortur'u bofom throb the [fore, Whene'er the thinks on what fhe was beAnd finds, recoiling from th' infidious joy,

more,

A fecret canker every rofe deftroy; While all that memory's forcery can difpense,

Shall add new pangs to loss of innocence ?

ODE TO VENUS.

QUEEN of the foft enchanting smile !

Ever blooming, young, and gay, We, fubjects of thy fav'rite ifle, To thee the grateful tribute pay. Sovereign of the human breaft !

Tamer of wild paffion's rage! Thou lull'it the troubled foul to rest, And ev'ry difcord canft affuage. As, after winter's ftorms, the spring Blithfome comes, to deck the year,— So doft thou to mortals bring

Thy lightfome joys, to banish care. Without thee, this mottled life

Would be all a defert drear:Ceafelefs tumult, ceafelefs ftrife, Would await the smiling year. In vain would fpring her beauties spread O'er the mead, and glad the air: Without thee, thofe joys are dead,Light of pleafure! heavenly fair! Lambeth.

J. A.

FOREIGN

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