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Though the strained mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvass fluttering strew the gale,
Still must I on; for I am as a weed, Flung from some rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell,
Then shrieked the timid--and stood still the brave;
And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy,
And strives to strangle him before he die.
Louder than the loud ocean ; like a crash
Save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash
Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry
Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
THE CREEK-INDIAN CHIEF'S RELATION OF HIS FORTUNES AND MARRIAGE.
TOBIN.T In the excellent Drama of the Indians, the governor of a Spanish settle
ment sends his daughter, for purposes of policy, into the prison of the leader of the Creeks, an Englishman by birth, who thus relates his
story: SOME years are past (no matter now the cause) Like jarring friends, I, and my country parted ;
*“ As a piece of terrible painting, this is as much superior as can be to every description of the kind—not even excepting that in the Æneidthat ever was created."-Vide“ Blackwood" for Aug. 1819.
† The worthy and talented Author of the “Honey Moon,” Mr. Tobin, (who was a respectable Solicitor in London,) died at sea on his passage to the West Indies, whither he was going for the benefit of his health. “The Honey Moon,” as is well known, besides being a most successful actingComedy, contains some as delectable portions of poetry as our language affords.
I sought my fortune 'midst the Indian Creeks.
very sick at heart, that when at last
gaze full on me, and put forth her hand With such a look of kindness (pardon me, I ne'er can think on't with impunity !)She led me to her hut-brought me fresh food, And water from the spring-watched o'er my sleep; And, when I awoke, she brought me food again : Thus, three long weeks she nursed me, and, meanwhile, Taught me her language, with a breath so sweet, And was so apt a scholar learning mine, (For of such little offices as these, The mighty sum of love is all made up !) That, with reviving health, I drew in that Which wanted still a cure : and not long after, When of the Creeks I was appointed chief, Then I remembered Zoa, and her care Of me at life's extremity. Yes, then, In the full face of our assembled warriors, I took her for my wife ; and shall I leave her ? No: not for all the white complexioned dames That dazzle Europe : Never !-Never !
THE MAGDALEN.— A FRAGMENT.
But oh! the touches of his pencil never
ANONYMOUS. Be kind to thy father-for when thou wert young,
Who loved thee so fondly as he ?
And joined in thine innocent glee.
His locks intermingled with grey,
Thy father is passing away.
May traces of sorrow be seen ;
For loving and kind hath she been.
As long as God giveth her breath, With accents of kindness, then cheer her lone way,
E’en to the dark valley of death.
If the smile of thy love be withdrawn ;
If the dew of affection be gone.
Be kind to thy brother-wherever you are,
The love of a brother shall be
Than pearls from the depths of the sea.
The depths of true sisterly love;
The surface that sparkles above.
And blessings thy pathway to crown ;
More precious than wealth or renown.
LOVE COMPARED TO THE GOUT.
CRABBE.—“ Tales of the Hall.” [The following little dialogue seems to require a few prefatory observa
tions. The subject is the meeting of two brothers who had been long apart, and, during the separation, the younger (Richard) had got married, and was struggling with the world, and a large family; while the elder (George, who had remained Benedict) had been successful, and had accumulated considerable wealth. After the long separation, they have just met, and Richard has been detailing the happy circumstances of his married life to his brother, who, with some incredulity,
replies,] GEORGE.“ Thanks, my
dear Richard ; and I
pray thee, deign To speak the truth-does all this love remain, And all this joy ? for views and flights sublime, Ardent and tender, are subdued by time. Speak’st thou of her to whom thou mad’st thy vows, Of my fair sister, of thy lawful spouse ? Or art thou talking some frail love about The rambling fit before the abiding gout ?”
Richard. Nay, spare me, brother, an adorer spare:
George. “Yea, and correctly; teasing ere they come,
On man a kind of dignity they shed,
APOSTROPHE TO LOVE,- THE COTTER'S
O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare !
And sage experience bids me this declare“ If heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,
“One cordial in this melancholy vale, “ 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair,
“ In others' arms breathe out the tender tale, “ Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.” Is there, in human form, that bears a heart
A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth ? Woe to his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth !
Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled ?
Points to the parents fondling o'er their child,