So when I am weary'd with wand'ring all day, They were but my vifits, but thou art my home. Then finish, dear Chloe, this paftoral war, There are many places in this fong in which a great variety of light and shade, with respect to inflection of tone, may be practifed with confiderable beauty.-The reader's own tafte, after what he has already had from us, will guide him, no doubt, in finding them out, without any of our affistance. There is a great deal of elegant tenderness in the following, by the fame Author.-Your expreffion, in reading it with fatisfaction, must be foft, and engaging, with occafionally a mixture of the pathetic. YES, faireft proof of beauty's pow'r, Dear idol of my panting heart, While now I take my last adieu, From jealoufy's tormenting ftrife Yet when fome better-fated youth Who dying thus, perfifts to love thee. We will now prefent the reader with a Song poffeffing no inconfiderable degree of humour. The metre runs peculiarly pleasant to the ear; and if the scholar enters into the spirit of it, when reading, he cannot fail of giving it with effect, as far as fuch a trifle will admit of. THE THE DESPAIRING LOVER. By WALSH. LET there be a good deal of hurry, and an apparent determination of doing what the lines exprefs, in your manner of going through the whole of the firft verfe, and the first line of the second. DISTRACTED with care Since nothing could move her, Refolves in despair No longer to languish; But, mad with his love, To a precipice goes, Would foon finish his woes. When in rage he came there, Here comes the alteration in your manner of reading it, which we advised as above. Now your voice drops, and you speak the words more deliberately, as if reafoning upon the act, with no great inclination to execute it. Beholding how steep The fides did appear, L Take Take care that your looks correfpond with the fenti ment. His torments projecting, That a lover forfaken A new love may get; But a neck, when once broken, Can never be fet: Still the fentence goes on. And that he could die Whenever he would, But that he could live But as long as he could: How grievous foever The torment might grow, He fcorn'd to endeavour To finish it fo. But bold, unconcern'd, At thoughts of the pain, Now lower your voice, and fpeak the two concluding lines quite compofedly, as if the mind were made up not to do the act. He calmly return'd To his cottage again. We We do not know of any Song or ballad that poffeffes more fituations in which a reader of taste and difcrimination may exercise these qualities to greater advantage, than in that which next follows. The ftory is told with all that eafe and fimplicity of language which fo well fuit compofitions of the ballad kind. Some trifling obfolete words are occafionally introduced, but which are easily understood. BRYAN AND PEREENE, A WEST INDIAN BALLAD; FOUNDED ON A REAL FACT, THAT HAPPENED IN THE ISLAND CHRISTOPHER'S. By GRAINGER. THE firft verfe in a full, clear, diftinct voice. THE north-east wind did briskly blow, The fhip was fafely moor'd; Young Bryan thought the boat's-crew flow, And fo leapt over-board. OF ST. Now foften your voice, and ftop a little after the word Pereene." Pereene, the pride of Indian dames, And whofo his impatience blames, I wot ne'er lov'd at all. L 2 Speak |