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But when she twin'd in wreathy knots those The hill-torrents ran, sweeping vale, glen, and tresses,

green, With ev'ry spiral web she bound my heart,

And wept unabated the sky, And, ever, as she tighter drew its jesses, Poor Colin's abode, a neat cottage, which stood She weav'd a charmed bond which human art On the river's broad margin so gay, Can never disenchant, and death can never part. Oppos’d its thin walls, but in vain, to the flood,

C. For it yielded, as yields to the blast the young


And the cruel storm bore it away.

Dread attempt ! mid the quick tide, with broad

breast and true, COLIN AND JANE.

Did Colin dash nobly, to snatch one remain-
The clan-cheering pipe his brave forefathers blew,

On hill never-conquer'd, or plain.
Hoc non auditum, sed cognitum.

And if soft Compassion can pour the sad tear, The mists of the mountain hung heavy and pale,

Of piteous woe, let the tribute be given, Like the spectre of night's gloomy hour,

For the form that ne'er trembled at danger or

fear, The lone owl scream'd loud in the Abbey's dark

Like the wreck of the ocean which high billows aile,

bear, And the forehead of Fate seemed to low'r.

A-down the red torrent was driven.. Such a night as (old legends will fearfully tell,

Rang'd the red glowing moss-fire around,) In the midnight of woe and the gloom of despair, When the wind at dull midnight rung old Nor His Jane, the sweet, lovely, and young, man's knell,

Mark'd the deed for a moment, with frantic, wild In dread numbers and loud, on the Castle's harsh

stare, bell,

When each“ strain'd ball of sight' seem'd unThrice, ere he was laid in the ground.


The tear of her sadness flow'd freely, but why, This night saw the nuptials of Colin the gay, And the pride of the valley, his Jane,

She wist not, nor what she had seen, Sweet flower! more enchanting than rose-bud And she named Colin thrice, but no Colin was in May,

nigh, Or the broad setting sun's lovely scene:

For the mists of delusion hung pale on the eye, Nor even could slander or malice produce

Like the night-star when clouds intervene. A thought that was mean of her mate

And oft-times the rustic shall dwell on the ther:", He was proud, but, Q say, what is pride's best

To the stranger whom pity brings thcre, excuse,

And tell how at midnight's dull hour the sad When the soft fires of Love light the soul and diffuse

Of the Benshee, foul sprite! floats in air; A charm that ennobles man's state?

And point to the place, now with grass overThree summers the sunshine of Love had endur'd,

grown, Three dreary cold winters saw roll,

And nightshade near yonder yew-tree, Tho' winter ne'er darken'd Love's year, but in. And jeer at some luckless poor wight, who, alone, sur'd

Wends thither for stray kid, his courage quite A full flow of bliss to the soul :

gone, Yet the omen was sadd'ning which hung on the And his terrors how many they be!

brow Of the eve their fond souls were conjoin'd ARABIAN FAITH.–An Arab, after he has In the dear tender ties made more dear by Love's

eaten and drank with another, let him be ever vow;

so great a stranger, and of whatever religion But why Virtue to Fáte's dire decree should e'er

or country, would sooner perish than suffer him

to receive the least injury, either in person or bow

property; and whoever, in distress, puts himself This grier'd heart, ah! never could find.

entirely under the protection of an Arab, may

rely on being defended in the most faithful One dark night, when loud blew the bleak North and keen,

A French courier was carrying dispatches And Ruin held council on high,

aeross the great desert, from Aleppo to Bassora,




ines resided for the greater part of their lives in death.' Helen replied, 'Ye ken I buid to speals

and bad with him an interpreter, and an escort rank of life in Scotland. Her eyes were darky of about eighty men, mostly on camels; when, and remarkably lively and intelligent. I en about five days journey from his destination, tered into conversation with her, and began they were attacked, in the evening, by, a tribe by asking how she maintained herself

, &e. She of Árabs. The messenger shot the sheik of the said, that in winter she fitted stockings, that is hostile party, but they rushed with such fury knitted feet to country people's hosen at the tirsi onset, that, before he had time to employment which bears about the same relacharge again, he was cut down with a sabre.

tion to stocking-making, that cobbling does to Most of his guards being killedd, were stripped, shoe-making, and is, of course, both less prokand the Frenchman among them, as a supposed table and less dignifier. She added, that she

THE partaker of their fate. After the engagement, ta'ıght a few children to read, and 'in summer the Arabs lighted tires, to make coltee, and whiles, reared a wheen chickens.'. . . . After refresh themselves; and sat in a circle on the some further conversation, during which I was ground, according to their custom.

more and more pleased with the good sense, The messenger's wound not proving mortai, and naivele of the old woman's remarks, she ce he soon recovered bis senses; and finding him rose to go away. I then asked her name. self entirely naked, as well as much weakened countenance was suddenly clouded, her colour site by, loss of blood, he had nearly given himself slightly rose, and she said, gravely, or rather up to despair; but recollecting to have heard solemnly, · My name is Helen Walker; but and us of this singular disposition of the Arabs, he re your husband kens weel about me.' solved to try the experiment, as the only means “ In the evening, I mentioned to MD of preserving his life, or putting an end to his

the new acquaintance I had made, and how existence. He took a view of the Arabs, situated much I had been pleased, and inquired what red as already described, and having singled outhim was remarkable in the history of this poor whom he thought most likely to be their chief, as woman. Mr.

said, there were few this being the oldest-looking man in their company, more extraordinary persons than Helen Walker. Laser naked as he was, and almost covered with blood, She had been early left an orphan, with the he rushed into the ring, and fell prostrate at his charge of a sister considerably younger than a feet. His conjecture was right; and this herself, whom she educated and maintained by the leader immediately covered him with his cloak, her exertions. It will not be casy to conceiva €. He was now at a loss for his interpreter, but on

her feelings, when she found that this only timebit sarch being made, that individual was foundsister must be tried by the laws of her country in a similar situation, wounded, but not for child murder, and herself called upon as the same is dangerously. The messenger had his clothes principal witness against her. The connsed for at and dispatches returned to him; and the chief the prisoner told ilelen, that if she could do te tate ! entered into an agreement to deliver him safe clare that her sister had made any preparation, at Bassora, on the messenger un lertaking to however slight, or had given her any intimation pay a hundred sequins.

whatever of her situation, such a statement

would save her sister's life. Helen said, It

is impossible for me, Sir, to give my oath to a
(Second Scries.)
falsehood, and whatever be the


consequence, JEANIE AND EFFIE DE ANS. will give my evidence according to my consci

ence. The trial came on. The sister was found It is not, we believe, very generally known, guilty and condemned. “In removing the prithat the celehrated tale of "The Heart of Mid

soner from the bar, she was heard to say to ker Lothian” is founded on fact, and that its hero sister, O Nelly! ye hae bee the cause of my the immediate neighbourhood of Dumfries. Of the truth.” these facts, however, our readers will entertain

* In Scotland, six weeks must elapse between no doubt, when they shall have perused the the sentence and the exceution, and Helent following narrative from a memorandum,

made availed herself of it

. The very day of her sister's by a lady, long before the last series of the condemnation, she got a petition drawn up,

Tales of My Landlord” had been announced, stating the peculiar circumstances of the case, and we distinctly pledge ourselves to the public and that same night she set out on foot frore for the authenticity of its contents. (Dumfries Dumfries to London, without introduction or Courier.)

recomiendation. She presented herself in her EXTRACT" As my kitchen and parlour tartan plaid, and country attire, before John, were not very far from each other, 1 one day Duke of Argyl, (after having watched three went in to purchase chickens from a person I days at his door,) just as he was stepping into heard offering them for sale. This was a little stout- his carriage, and delivered her petition. Herself looking woman, who seemned between 70 and 80 and her story interested him so much, that ke years of age. She was almost covered with immediately procured the pardon sbe solicited, à tartan plaid, and her cap had over it a black which was forwarded to Lumfries, and Helen silk hood, tied under the chin, a piece of dress returned, having performed her meritorious still much in use among elderly women in that journey on foot.


I was so strongly interested in this narra- much resembled the lean kine in Pharaoh's tive, that I earnestly wished to prosecute my vision, which, when they had devoured the fat, acquaintance with Helen Walker; but as I was were as lean and ill-favoured as before. to leave the country next day, I was obliged to postpone it till my return in the spring, when my first walk was to Helen's cottage. She had

Translations. died a short time before. My regret was extreme, and I endeavoured to obtain some account

THE SONG OF ANTAR, of her from a woman at the other end of the house. I inquired if Helen had ever spoken of

LITERALLY FROM THE ARABIC, her past history, her journey to London, &r.

No said the old woman, 'Helen was a wild IBLA-I love thee with a warrior's love,
body, and whenever ony of the neighbour, Thy very shadow is my happiness,
speer'd ony thing about it, she aye changed the
discourse. In short, every answer I received

Thou rulest all the pulses of my heart, only served to raise my opinion of Helen Wal- My queen, my spirit's hope, and faith, and love! ker, who could unite so much prudence with I cannot paint thy beauty, for it leaves so much heroisin and virtue.”

All picturing pale. Were I to say the Moon Helen Walker lived on the romantic banks Looks in her midnight glory like thy brow, of Clouden, a little way above the bridge by Where is the wild sweet sparkling of thine eye? which the road from Dumfries to Sanqubar Or that thy shape was stately as the paim, crosses that beautiful stream. The name of her younger sister is said to have been Tibby Can all its waving blossoms show thy grace ? (Isabella,) and it is known that, after her li Thy forehead's whiteness is my rising sun, beration froin Duuntries gaol, she way united The ebon tresses wreathing it like night, in marriage to the father of the little innocent, Like night bewilder me. Thy brilliant teeth whose premature death had brought her life Are pearls, if the blue ocean’s gems could live; into jeopardy; and that she lived with him in Thy bosom is a white enchantment! Heav'n the North of England, where Helen used occasionally to visit her. The interview betwixt

That made it in perfection, guard its peace, Helen and Mrs. --above detailed, took place

IBLA-— 'twas blessing to be at thy side,in October, 1786, and the remains of the old But now my world is darkness---for thou’rt gore woman were interred in the church-yard of Thy look was to my life what evening dews Irongtay, in the spring of 1787, without a stone Are to the drooping rose; thy single glance to mark the spot where they are deposited. Went swifter, deeper, to thy lover's heart,

Than Spear or scymitar; and still I gaze

Hopeless on thee, as on the glorious Moon,
For thou, like her, art bright-like her, above

TRISSINO, GOLD.-This metal is to solace the wants, and not to nourish the passions of men. In this view, it was generally brought from the mines,

FUTURITY, purified, struck, and stamped. He who expends

FROM HORACE. it properly, is its master; he who lays it up, its keeper; he who loves it, a fool; he who fears it , a slave; he who adores it, an idolator ; the

Old Time, my son, no quarter gives, truly wise man is he who despises it.

His paces never vary, Nature.—In some people she mistakes the Since, soon or late, each man that lives, head for the heart, by making the former Must cross the Stygian ferry. soft and the latter hard !

CORRUPTION.-When corruption, laden with Pious and impious, both must share
gold, knocks at the door of indigence, it is One common fate, we know;
rarely shut.

Though Virtue moderates our care,
Love.--It is a perpetual paradox ; nothing

She can't avert the blow. in nature is so varied as its pleasures, and yet they are ever the same.

In vain we shun the fate of war, Å WOMAN OP SENSE. She should never

Or Neptune's angry flood, take a lover without the sanction of her heart,

Or seek asylums distant far nor a husband without the consent of her

From anarchy and blood. AUTHORS.–Like flambeaux, they consume We shall be soon transported hence, themselves by giving light to others.

To kingdoms unexplor'd, PLINY.-He said, the face was a silent echo

Where Vice will meet its recompense, READING. It is useless without reflection. And Virtue be ador'd.

G, D. are instances of book-gluttons who very



of the heart.



Lightly they'll talk of his spirit's that gone,

And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;

But nothing he'll reck, if they'll let him sleep on
I send you a reul curiosity, a short speech by
Lord CASTLEREAgh, not made in

In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

the lionourable House,' but muttered in a certain ojicial But half of our heavy task was done, house, at the close of the Westminster Election.

When the clock toll'd the hour for retiring;

And we heard the distant and random gun,
Is in a pet,

That the foe was suddenly firing.
Thinks to mob us,

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
's not worth a damn,

We carv'd not a line, we rais'd not a stone,
All the Whigs

But we left him alone with his glory.
Ar'n't worth two figs;
The real case is,

And so he shall sleep, tho' the foe shou'd rạise, *

In zeal for the same they covet,
They want our places :

A tomb or a trophy, to speak the praise
Great and small,

Of him who has soar'd above it.
Curse 'em all!

By Englishmen's steps when the turf is trod,

On the breast of their hero pressing, The rule of the road is a paradox quite,

Let them offer a prayer to England's God,

For him that was England's blessing.
As the carriages jog it along;
If you go to the left, you are sure to be right,

* This and the succeeding Stanza were added

16 If you go to the right you are wrong ;

by the Gentleman to whose contribution our MisBut the rule of the foot is as clear as the light,

cellany is indebted for the Epitaph, in its first And none can its reason withstand;

Number, on “ Sir Samuel Romilly.” On each side of the way you must keep to the

ANACREONTIC. right, And give those you meet the left hand.

“Love is but a gentle creature,

Innocent in ev'ry feature

Flora ! kiss the box!

Let his lips, my Flora, press thee,ON THE DEATH OF SIR JOHN MOORE.

Rose leaves only round them twine

Let his infant arms caress thee;
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,

Nestle there in Love's own shrine.
As his corpse to the rampart we hurried ;
Not a soldier discharg'd his farewell shot,

Flora! kiss the boy!
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

“See, his little hands implore thee! We buried him darkly, at dead of night,

Must he kneel in vain before thee? The sod with our bayonets turning,

Flora ! kiss the boy!” By the struggling moon-beams' misty light,

Sweetly smiling, faintly blushing, And the lantern dimly burning.

Flora turn'd to where he wood,

And, each infant terror hushing, No useless coffin inclos'd his breast,

Gave the boon for which he sud-
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him;

Flora kiss'd the boy!
But he lay like a warrior, taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.

Both few and short were the pray’rs we said,

DECEASED. And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

(Taken as if standing before a Glass.) But we stedfastly gaz'd on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

She looks within the mirror, and her form

Is from its dazzling crystal giv'n again,
We thought as we hollow'd his scanty bed,
And smooth'd down his narrow pillow,

In living beauty ;-yet a hue less warm
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er

Reddens the lip; the blue, pellucid vein

Wanders across a brow, where silent pain
his head,
And we far away on the billow.

Sheds paleness on its polish'd ivory.
The ruby of that cheek has felt the stain



shat Of lears that now'd unseen by huntan eye, His brow in vapour, and all the west

As from ker pillow rose her midnight pray'r--to Strews gold, (as 'twould welcome a kingly guest) die!

Ile looks like a god on his throne of clouds,

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And so she died-in early beauty died; Yet I know an eye as bright as this,
A violet by its first soft shower decay'd;

And a smile more soft, and lips of bliss,
Å Hush of radiance on life's changing tide,

Oh! lovelier far;
Just seen and lov’d, and lost in evening And an arm as white as the milk-white dove,

And a bosom all warin and rich with love,
A Foung, sweet star, just risen but lo fade;

And a heart-as the hearts of angels are!
And this fair image, smiling in sad bloom

Du her, so soon in quiet to be laid,
Looks like her Augel--drooping at the doom, --

Seat to prepare her for her calm and hallow'd

Ask'st thou, “How long my love shall stay,

“When all that's new is past?"

How long ?-Ah, Delia! can I say
By Samuel Rogers, Esq.

How long my life will last ?

Dry be that tear--be hush'd that sigh; (The following description of Infancy, from At least, I'll love thee till I die. GC this poem, is exquisilely beautiful.]

And does that thought affect thee too, Her, by her smile, how soon the stranger knows;

The thought of Damon's death! How soon by his the glad discov'ry shows!

That he who only lives for you, As to her lips she lists the lovely boy,

Must yield his faithful breath? What answering looks of sympathy and joy!

Hush'd be that sigh-be dry that tear;-He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word,

Nor let us lose our beaven here.
His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard,
And ever, ever to her lap he flies,

When rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise.
Lock'd in her arms, his arms across her flung,

O, fare thee well, departed Year, (That name most dear for ever on his tongue)

And still may thy successor, As with soft accents round her neck he clings,

Follow with gracious smiles each tear, And, check to cheek, her lulling song she sings,

As did his predecessor,
How bless'd to feel the beatings of his heart,
Breathe bis sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart:

Hist'ry thy cenotaph shall crown

With flow'rs that cannot perish; Watch o'er his slumbers, like the brooding dove,

Remembrance thy unblam'd renown, And, if she can, exhaust a mother's love!

With honest pride shall cherish.

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