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Your friseur's irons and his tortring.comb,
When Greece for glorious Liberty was fam'd,
What time the son of Phillip and of Fame
Twas where for plunder an equestrian band,
At length exploring a recess with care,
Full willing then I bend me to thy will, “ And urge but gentleness to hear me still. 66 Before we wanton in the Cyprian shade, “ Possess my treasures, and your fortune's made. 6 From yonder court that opens to the view, “Be quick to order that despoiling crew, 6. For there's a well in which my jewels lie, 66 The richest sure beneath the circling sky; “ With many a goblet by my parent's givin, 66 Fit for libations to the chiefs of Heav'n; 66 An hundred caskets too, surpass'd by none, 6. Are buried there, enrich'd with precious stone ; “ With many a purse of pure Thebæan coin, “ Impress’d with portraits of great Cadmus' line ; 66 Take these, my lord, all these without delay, " Lest some less worthy bear my wcalth away: “ And when this mass my conq'ror's made his own, “Revel in pleasures you shall claim alone, “My willing maids will shew you to the place, 66 While I attend to do my hero grace.” He hears, he pauses; ar’rice now prevails, And lust mounts lightly in the mental scales. Lead swift, he cry'd, my troops shall disappear: He gives the signal, and no troops are near, Towards the place the pliant females bend, Remove the stones, and urge him to descend. The yielding cord glides swiftly with his weight : He fails, and finds his error but too late. The voice of anger issues from the cave, “Be brief, my maids, and now my virtue save.
This said, they cast the stones upon his head,
To be continued.
EXTRACTS from the POSTHUMOUS
WORKS of WILLIAM COWPER,
recently published. "I would, that, exiled to the Pontic shore, Rome's hapless bard had suffer'd nothing more. He then had equall'd even Homer's lays, And Virgil ! thou hadst won but second praise. For here I woo the Muse, with no controul, And here my books--my life-absorb me whole, Here too I visit, or to smile, or weep, The winding theatre's majestic sweep; The grave or gay coloquial scene recruits My spirits, worn in learning's long pursuits ; Whether some senior shrewd, or spendthrift heir, Sailor, or soldier, now unarm'd, be there, Or some coif'd brooder o'er a ten-years' cause Thunder the Norman gibb'rish of the laws, &c.' In the epistle to his tutor, Thomas Young, at Hamburgh, there occurs a beautiful sketch of a christian pastor's fami. ly life: and the following lines, from the same piece, contain sentiments such as Cowper delighted to express.
But thou take courage! strive against despair !
shall combat by thy side.
The same, who overthrew in ages past
“Thou, therefore, (as the most afflicted may,)
And to enjoy, once more my native home! The first verses in the volume, on finding the heel of a Shoe at Bath, are in the manner of the Splendid Shilling, and display at the age of seventeen that exuberant humour which attended our author in after-life. The Epistle to Lloyd is full of liveliness, and that to Lady Austen unites innocent gaiety with just and dignified reflection. The dialogue between the Pipe and the Snuff-box is a counterpart to the ' Report of an Adjudged Case, not to be found in any of the Books: the Colubriad is of the same stamp. The following tribute of praise to the memory of Ashley Cowper, Esq. has great merit.
"Farewell! endued with all that could engage
Marble may flatter ;, and lest this should seem
Love shall be satisfied, and veil the rest. The fragment on the Four Ages might have been the introduction to a second Task :' that on the Yardley Oak is, perhaps, the most characteristic specimen of Cowper ; with his usual alloy of homeliness, and want of selection, it exhibits a copiousness of thought and expression, worthy of Dryden or Cowley. We close our extracts with the following beautiful sonnet-.
(To Mrs. UNWIN.
An eloqucnce scarce giv'n to mortals, new,
I may record thy worth with honour due,
In verse as musical as thou art true,
By seraphs writ with beanis of heav'nly light,
A chronicle of actions just and bright:
REMARKS on LORD BYRON'S POEMS.
Distinguished by title and descent from an illustrious line of ancestry, Lord Byron shewed, even in his earliest
years, that nature had added to those advantages the richest gifts of genius and fancy. His own tale is partly told in two lines of Lara :
Left by his sire, two young such loss to know, Lord of himself, that heritage of woe.'. It was in 1812, when Lord Byron returned to England, that Childe Harold's Pilgrimage made its first appearance, producing an effect upon the public, at least equal to any work which has appeared within this or the last century. Reading is indeed so general among all ranks and classes, that the impulse received by the public mind on such occasions is instantaneous through all but the very lowest classes of society, instead of being slowly communicated from one set of readers to another, as was the case in the days of our fathers. "The Pilgrimage,' acting on such an extensive medium, was calculated to rouse and arrest the attention in a peculiar degree. The fictitious personage, whose sentiments, however, no one could help identifying with those of the author himself, presented himself with an avowed disdain of all the attributes which most men would be gladly supposed to possess. Childe Harold is represented as one satiated by indulgence in pleasure, and seeking in change of place and clime a relief from the tedium of a life