Condemn the unlucky curate to recite

Their Inst dramatic work by candle-light,

How would the preacher turn each rueful leaf,

Dull as his sermons, but not half so brief!

Yet, since 'tis promised at the rector's death,

He'll risk no living for a little breath.

Then spouts and foams, and cries at every line,

(The Lord forgive him!) "Bravo! grand! divine!"

Hoarse with those praises (which, by flattery fed,

Dependence barters for her bitter bread),

He strides and stamps along with creaking boot,

Till the floor echoes his emphatic foot;

Then sits again, then rolls his pious eye,

As when the dying vicar will not die!

Nor feels, forsooth, emotion at his heart;—

But all dissemblers overact their part.

Ye, who aspire to u build the lofty rhyme," (1)
Believe not all who laud your false "sublime;"
But if some friend shall hear your work, and say,
"Expunge that stanza, lop that line away,"
And, after fruitless efforts, you return
Without amendment, and he answers, aBurn!"
That instant throw your paper in the fire,
Ask not his thoughts, or follow his desire;
But (if true bard!) you scorn to condescend,
And will not alter what you can't defend,
If you will breed this bastard of your brains,(2)—
We'll have no words—I've only lost my pains.

Yet, if you only prize your favourite thought,
As critics kindly do, and authors ought;
If your cool friend annoy you now and then,
And cross whole pages with his plaguy pen;

■ SI Carolina condes,

Nunquam te fat]ant animi sub vulpe latentes.
Quiiitilie si quid recitares, "Corrige, sodes,
Hoc {aiebat) et hoc:" melius te posse negares.
Bis terque expertum frustra; delere jubebat,
Et male tornatos incudi redden versus.
Si defender© delictum, quam vertere, malles,
Nullum ultra verbura, ant operam insumebat inanem,
Quia sine rivali teque et turn solus a mares.

Vir bonus et prndeus versus reprehend?t inertes,
Culpa bit duros, inconitis allinrt atrum
Trans verso ealanio signum; anibilioaa recidet
Ornanienta: parum Claris lucem dare coget:

And men through life assume a part

For which nu talents they possess,
Yet wonder that, with all their art,

They meet no better with success.
Tls thus we see, through life's career.

So few excel In their profession;
Whereas, would each man but appear

In what's within his own possession,
We should not see such daily quacks

(For quacks there are in every art)
Attempting, by their strange attacks.

To meliorate the mind and heart.
Nor mean [ here the stage alone,

Where some deserve the applause they meet;
For quacks there nre, and they Well known

In either House who hold a seat.
Reform's the order of the day, I hear.

To which I cordially assent:
But then let this reform appear.

And every class of men cement.
For if yon but reform a few.

And others leave to their full bent,
I fear you will but litUe do.

And find your time and pains misspent.
Let each man to his post assign'd

By Nature, lake his part to act. And then Tew causes shall we find To call each man we meet—a quack." * For such every man is who either appears to be what he is not. or strives to be what he cannot.

No matter, throw your ornaments aside,—

Better let him than all the world deride.

Give light tu passages too much in shade,

Nor let a doubt obscure one verse you *ve made;

Your friend's "a Johnson," not to leave one word.

However trifling, which may seem absurd:

Such erring trifles lead to serious ills.

And furnish food for critics,(3) or their quills.

As the Scotch fiddle, with its touching tune.
Or the sad influence of the angry moon.
All men avoid bad writers' ready tongues,
As yawning waiters fly (4) Fitzscribble's (5) lungs;
Yet on he mouths—ten minutes—tedious each
As prelate's homily, or placeman's speech;
Long as the last years of a lingering lease,
When riot pauses until rents increase.
While such a minstrel, muttering fustian, strays
O'er hedge and ditch, through unfrequented ways,
If by some chance he walks into a well,
And shouts for succour with stentorian yell,
"A rope! help, Christians, as ye hope for grace!"
Nor woman, man, nor child will stir a pace;
For there his carcass he might freely fling,
From frenzy, or the humour of the thing.
Though this has happen'd to more bards than one;
I'll tell you Budgell's story,—and have done.

Budgell, a rogue and rhymester, for no good,
(Unless his case be much misunderstood)
When teased with creditors' continual claims,
".To die like Cato,B(6) leapt into the Thames!
And therefore be it lawful through the towu
For any bard to poison, hang, or drown.(7)

Arguct ambigue dictum: mutanda notabit;
Fiet Aristarchus: nec dicet, "Cur ego ami cum
Offend am in nugis."--HaB nugw seria ducent
In mala derisum semel exceptumque sinistrc

Ut mala quern scabies, aut morbus rrgius urget,
Ant fauaticus error, et iraeunda Diana;
Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntqtie poetam,
Qui sapiuat; ngitant pueri, incautique seqauntnr.

Hie dum sublimes versus ruetalur, et errat.
Si veluti merulis intentos dectdit aucepa
In puteum foveamve; licet " Suceurrite," longum
Clamet, "lo rives]" nou sit qui tollere curet.
Si quia curet oprm ferre, et demittere funrm;

(1) See Miltoa's f-ycida*.—L.E.

(2) "Bastard of your brains."— Minerva being the fint by Jupiter's head-piece, and a variety of equally unaccountable parturitions upon earth, such as Modoc, etc. etc etc

(*} u A crust for the critics."—Bayea, in the Rehearsal.

[i) And the "waiters" arc the only fortunate people who can "fly" from them; all the rest, viz. the sad subscribers to the "Literary Fund," being compelled, by courtesy, to sit out the recitation without a hope of exclaiming, "Sic" (that is, by choking Fitz. with bad wine, or worse poetry) "me servavit Apollo!"

(5) "FiUscribble," originally "Fitzgerald." (See p. 49. L. B.

(6) On his table were found these words: "What Cato did, and Addison approved, cannot be wrong-" Bot Addison did not "approve ;" and if he had, it would not have mended the matter. He had invited bis daughter on the same water-party; but Miss Budgell, by some accident, escaped this last paternal attention. Thus fell the sycophant of M Atticus," and the enemy of Pope!—[Eustace Bndgell. a friend and relative of Addison's, "leapt into the Thames* to escape a prosecution, on account of forging the will of Dr. Tindal; In which Eustace bad provided himself with a legacy of two thousand pounds- To (his Pope alludes :—

"Lei Budgell charge low Grub-slreet on my quill.
And write whatever be please—except my wiU."—L. E. j

(7) "We talked (says Boswell) of a man's drowning himWho saves the intended suicide receives

Small thanks from him who loathes the life he leaves;

And, sooth to say, mad poets must not lose

The giory of that death they freely choose.

Nor is it certain that some sorts of verse
Prick not the poet's conscience as a curse;
Dosed [1) with rile drams on Sunday he was found,
Or pot a child on consecrated ground!

Qsl tda an pendens hoc s* projecerit, atque
Serrari unlit? Dieam: Strulique port*
5*rrabo interitum. Dens immortal is haberi
Dtua cipit Einpedoeles, ardentem frigidas
taiBidt. Sit jus, licestque perire poetis:
umtsm qui arrvat, idem faeit oeeidenti.
Sec snael koc fecit; nee il retraetns erit, jam
»t homo, et

• I should never think it time to make ■■ay with myself-' 1 pot the case of Eustace Budget I, who Ku aeraied of forging a will, and sunk himself in the Tiaatts. before th* trial of its authenticity came on. 'Suppest, Sh*,' said I, * that a man is absolutely sure that, if he lira s few days longer, he shall he detected in a fraud, the "s^ocaee of which will he utter disgrace, and expulsion Irws warty?'—Joaasov. 'Then, Sir, let him go abroad to

And hence is haunted with a rhyming rage—

Fear'd like a bear just bursting from his cage.

If free, all fly his versifying fit,

Fatal at once to simpleton or wit.

But Aim, unhappy! whom be seizes,—him

He flays with recitation limb by limb;

Probes to the quick where'er he makes his breach.

And gorges like a lawyer or a leech.

Nec satis apparet, cor versus factitet: otram Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus, Objectos caves valuii si frangere clatbros, Indortum doctunique fagat recitator acerbas; Qaem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo, Non missnra cutera, nisi plena cruoris. hirudo.

a distant country; let him go to some place where he is not known. Don't let him go to the devil, where he is known.'" See Croker's Bosweli, vol. ii. pp. 229. 290. —L. E.

(I) If u dosed with," etc. be censured as low, I beg leave to refer to the original for something still lower; and if any reader will translate "Minxerit in patrios cineres," etc. into a decent couplet, 1 will insert said couplet In lieu of the present.

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Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, (2}

-Along Morea's hills tbe setting sun;

N 't. as in northern climes, obscurely bright,

But one unclouded blaze of living light;

O'er the hnsh'd deep the yellow beam he throws,

Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows;

Oa old .Egina's rock and Hydra's isle

The god of gladness sheds his parting smile;

O'er his own regions lingering loves to shine,

Tooogh there his altars are no more divine.

De*e*ading fast, the mountain-shadows kiss

Thy glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis!

Their azure arches through the long expanse,

More deeply purpled, meet his mellowing glance,

And teaderest tints, along their summits driven,

Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven;

131. darkly shaded from the land and deep,

Behind his Delphian rock, he sinks to sleep.

i I j This tierce philippic on Lord Elgin, whose collection of slaraisji marbles was ultimately purchased for the nation, k 1816, at the cost of thirty-five thousand pounds, was writtem at Athens, in March, 1811, and prepared for pubkotioa along with tbe Hints from Home?; but, like that etcire, sappressed by !^>rd Byron, from motives which the n*der will easily understand. It was first given to tbe j **rtd i» 1828. Few can wonder that Lord Byron's feelings I *ta«H have been powerfully excited by the spectacle of the '*->milfd Parthenon; but It is only due to Lord Elgin to keep n Blind, that, had those precious marbles remained, ! *vj awst, in all likelihood, have perished for ever amidst I anserahle scene* of violence which Athens has since j "Haeued; and that their presence in England has already, / kr saiicrsal admission, been of the most essential ad! to the fine arts of our own country. The political

On such an eve his palest beam he east
When, Athens! here thy wisest look'd his last.
How watch'd thy better sons his farewell ray,
That closied their murder'd sage's (3) latest day!
Not yet—not yet—Sol pauses on the hill,
The precious hour of parting lingers still;
But sad his light to agonising eyes,
And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes;
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seem'd to pour.
The land where Pho*bus never frown'd before;
But ere he sunk below Citheroo's head,
The cup of woe was quaff d—the spirit fled;
The sonl of him that scorn'd to fear or fly,
Who lived and died as none can live or dip.

But, In! from high Hymrttus to the plain.
The queen of night asserts her silent reign;(4)
No murky vapour, herald of the storm.
Hides her fair face, or girds her glowing form.

allnsions in this poem are not such as require much explanation. It contain* many lines which, it i* hoped, the author, on mature reflection, disapproved of—but is too vigorous a specimen of his iambics to be omitted in any collective edition of his works.—L. E.

(2) The splendid lines with which this satire opens, down to " As thus, within the walls of Pallas* fane," first appeared at the commencement of tbe third canto of the (tirsair. tbe author having, at that time, abandoned all notion of publishing the piece of which thry originally made part.—L. E.

(3) Socrates drank the hemlock a short time before sunset (the hour of execution), notwithstanding the entrrntirs of his disciples to wait till the sun went down.

(4) The twiKght in Greece is much shorter than in our own country; the days in winter are longer, but in summer of less duration.

With cornice glimmering as (he moonbeams play,
There the white column greets her grateful ray,
And bright around, with quivering beams beset,
Her emblem sparkles o*er the minaret:
The groves of olive scattered dark and wide,
Where meek Cephisns sheds his scanty tide,
The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque,
The gleaming turret of the gay kiosk,(1)
And sad and sombre 'mid the holy calm,
Near Theseus' fane, you solitary palm;(2)
AH, tinged with varied hues, arrest the eye;
And dull were his that pass'd them heedless by.(3)

Again the /Egean, heard no more afar,
Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;
Again his waves in milder tints unfold
Their long expanse of sapphire and of gold,
Mix'd with the shades of many a distant isle,
Thai frown, where gentler ocean deigns to smile.

As thus, within the walls of Pallas' fane,
I mark'd the beauties of the land and main,
Alone, and friendless, on the magic shore,
Whose arts and arms but live in poets' lore;
Oft as the matchless dome I turn'd to scan,
Sacred to gods, but not secure from man,
The past return'd, the present seem'd to cease,
And Glory knew no clime beyond her Greece 1

Hours roU'd along, and Dian's orb on high
Had gain'd the centre of her softest sky;
And yet unwearied still my footsteps trod
O'er the vain shrine of many a vanish'd god:
But chiefly, Pallas! thine; when Hecate's glare,
Check'd by thy columns, fell more sadly fair
O'er the chill marble, where the startling tread
Thrills the lone heart like echoes from the dead,

(1) The kiosk Is a Turkish summer-house. Cephisns' stream is indeed scanty, and Missus has no stream at all.

(2) This palm is without the present walls of Athens, not far from the Temple of Theseus, between which and the tree the wall intervenes. Upon the death of Lord Byron it wns proposed by Colonel Stmhope that he should be buried at Athens, in the Temple of Theseus; and the Chief, Odysseus, sent an express to Missolongbi to enforce this wish. The design, however, wan subsequently abandoned, and the Noble Poet's remains were removed to his country.—P. E.

{:\) M During our residence of ten weeks at Athens, there was not, 1 believe, a day of which we did not devote a part to the con temptation of the noble monuments of Grecian genius, that have outlived the ravages of time, nod the outrage of barbarous and antiquarian despoilers. The Temple of Theseus, which was within five minutes' walk of our lodgings, is the most perfect ancient edifice in the world. In this fabric, the most enduring stability, and n simplicity of design peculiarly striking, are united with the highest elegance and accuracy of workmanship; the characteristic of the Doric style, whose chaste beauty is not, in the opinion of the first artists, to be equalled by the graces of any of the other orders, A gentleman of Athens, of great taste and skill, assured us that, after a continued contemplation, of this temple, and the remains of the Parthenon, he could never again look with his accustomed satisfaction upon the Ionic and Corinthian ruins of Athens, much less upon the specimens of the more modern species of architecture to be seen in Italy." Hobhousc—L. E.

(i) "On the plaster wall, on the west side of the chapel, these words have bec-i very deeply cut;—



The mortar wall, yet fresh when we saw It, supplying the place of the statue now in !,ord Elgin's collection, serves

Long had I mused, and treasured every trace
The wreck of Greece recorded of Iter race,
When, lo! a giant form before me strode,
And Pallas hail'd me in her own abode!
Yes, 'twas Minerva's self; but, ah! how changed
Since o'er the Dardan field in arms she ranged!
Not such as erst, by her divine command,
Her form appear'd from Phidias* plastic hand:
Gone were the terrors of her awful brow,
Her idle aegis bore no Gorgon now;
Her helm was dinted, aud the broken lance
Seem'd weak and shaflless e'en to mortal glance;
The olive branch, which still she deign'd to clasp,
Shrunk from her touch, and wither'd in her grasp;
And, ah! though still the brightest of the sky,
Celestial tears bedimm'd her large blue eye;
Round the rent casque her owlet circled slow,
Aud mourn'd his mistress with a shriek of woe!

u Mortal!n—'twas thus she spake—a that blnsh of
Proclaims thee Briton, once a noble name: [shamr
First of the mighty, foremost of the free,
Now honoured less by all, and least by me:
Chief of thy foes shall Pallas still be found.
Seek'st thou the cause of loathing?—look around.
?Lo! here, despite of war and wasting fire,
I saw successive tyrannies expire.
*Scaped from the ravage of the Turk and Goth, [k]
Thy country sends a spoiler worse than both. (5)
Survey this vacant, violated fane;
Recount the relics torn that yet remain:
These Cecrops placed, this Pericles adorn*dT(6)
That Adrian rear'd when drooping Science mourn'il.
What more I owe let gratitude attest—
Know, Alaric and Elgin did the rest.
That all may learn from whence the plunderer cam*.
The insulted wall sustains his hated name: (7)

as a comment on this text. This eulogy of the Goths aflidr* to an unfounded story of a Greek historian, who rrlstf that Alaric, either terrified by two phantoms, one of Mi nerva herself, the other of Achilles, terrihle u when be strode towards the walls of Troy to his friends, or strcrt with a reverential respect, had spared the treasures, «wments, and people of the venerable city." Hobhoust.—L I (5) In the original MS.—

"Ah. Athens! scarry escaped from Turk, and Goth.
Hell tend* a paltry Scotchman worse than both."—LL

((i) This is spoken of the city in general, and not of uV Acropolis in particular. The temple of Jupiter Olympic by some supposed the I'nntheon, was finished by Hadrian; sixteen columns are standing, of the most beautiful msrhlr and architecture.

(7) It is stated by a late oriental traveller, that »fcn the wholesale spoliator visited Athens, be caused his o»» name, with that of his wife, to he inscribed on a pillar tt one of the principal temples. This inscription was executed in a very conspicuous manner, and deeply engraved in tit marble, at a very considerable elevation. Notwitbstanditu which precautions, some person (doubtless inspired by tt» Patron Goddess), has been at the pains to get himself raisei up to the requisite height, and has obliterated the nam* f the laird, but left that of the lady untouched. The trs vcller in question accompanied this story by a remark, tai it must have cost some labour and contrivance to jet s the place, and could only have been effected by mncb and determination.

(On the original M.S. is written:—

11 Asplcr quos Pnllas Scoto eoneedJt honor**,
Infra slat noititn —facta supraque. vide,
Scoto mi*er; quaIs nocnistl Palladia anil.
Infanduin fannus vlndicat ipsa Venus.
PyjrmMlion alatuam prospoiua arsisst rvftrttir;
Tu itatuam rapias. Scute, sed uxor abesl."—PE-j
For Elgin's fame thus grateful Pallas pleads,
Below, his name—above, behold his deeds !(1)
Be ever baiTd with eqaal honour here
The Gothic monarch and the Pictish peer:
Ant gave the first his right, the last had none,

{ Bat basely stole what less barbarians won.

| So when the lion quits his fell repast.
Next prowls the wolf, the filthy jackal last:

I Flesh, limbs, aod blood the former make their own,
The last poor brute securely gnaws the bone.

! Yet still the gods are just, and crimes are cross'd:

i See here what Elgin won, and what he lost!
Another name with his pollutes my shrine:
Behold where Dian's beams disdain to shine!
Seese retribution still might Pallas claim,"
When Venus half avenged Minerva's shame." (?.)

She ceased awhile, and thus I dared reply,
To soothe the vengeance kindling in her eye:
"Daughter of Jove! in Britain's injured name, _
A true-born Briton may the deed disclaim.
Frown not «n England; England owns him not:
Athena, no! thy plunderer was a Scot.
Ask>t thou the difference? From fairPhyle's towers
Survey Boeotia;—Caledonia's ours.
. And well I know within that bastard land (3)
! Hath Wisdom's goddess never held command;

A barren soil, where Nature's germs, confined ! To stern sterility, can stint the mind; j Whose thistle well betrays the niggard earth, Emblem of all to whom the land gives birth; Each genial influence nurtured to resist, • A land of meanness, sophistry, and mist, ! Each breeze from foggy mount and marshy plain ; Dilates with drivel every drizzly brain,

TU1, burst at length, each watery head o'erflows, I Foal as their soil, and frigid as their snows, i Tea thousand schemes of petulance and pride Despatch her scheming children far and wide: Some east, some west, some every where but north, In qae*t of lawless gain, they issue forth. And thus—accursed be the day and year!— She sent a Pict to play the felon here. Yet Caledonia claims some native worth, As dull Btt-otia gave a Pindar birth; So may her few, the letter'd and the brave, Bound to no clime, and victors of the grave,


(I) For Lord Byron'* detailed remarks on Lord Elgin's dealing with the Parthenon, sea note [A] to the second Canto at (Mide Harold, ante, p. 96-—P. E.

(S) His lordship's name, aod that of one who no longer bears h, are carved conspicuously on the Parthenon; above, in a part not far distant, are the torn remnants of the basso relievos, destroyed in a vain attempt to remove them.

(5) "Irish bastards," according to Sir Cullaghan O'BralUtauo

(4) In 1816, tfiirty-flve thousand pounds -were voted by Parliament for the purchase of the Elgin marbles-— L.E.

(5) Mr. West, on seeing the "Elgin Collection" (I suppose we shall hear of (he u Abersbaw"and "JackShephard" collection neit), declared himself " a mere tyro" in art.

(6) Poor Crib was sadly puzzled when the marbles were first exhibited at Elgin House: he asked if it was not "a "tone-shop?"—He was right; it is a shop.

I (7) "Alas! all the monuments of Roman magnificence, all the remains of Grecian taste, so dear to the artist, the kUtoriaa, the antiquary, all depend on the will of an arbitrary sovereign; and that will is influenced too often by in

, lerest or vanity, by a nephew or a sycophant. Is a new palace to be erected (at Rome) for an upstart family? the Oriiseun is stripped to furnish materials. Does a foreign

Slinl.e off the sordid dust of such a land,
And shine like children of a happier strand;
As once, of yore, in some obnoxious place,
Teu names (if found) had saved a wretched race."

* Mortal !w the blue-eyed maid resumed, aonce more
Bear back my mandate to thy native shore.
Though fallen, alas! this vengeance yet is mine,
To turn my counsels far from lands like thine.
Hear then in silence Pallas* stern behest;
Hear and believe, for Time will tell the rest.

"First on the head of him who did this deed My curse shall light, on him and all his seed: Without one spark of intellectual fire, Be all the sons as senseless as the sire: If one with wit the parent brood disgrace, Believe him bastard of a brighter race: Still with his hireling artists let him prate, And Folly's praise repay for Wisdom's hate; Long of their patron's gusto let them tell, Whose noblest native gusto is—to sell: To sell, and make—may Shame record the day!— The state receiver of his pilfer'd prey. (4) Meantime, the flattering, feeble dotard West, Europe's worst dauber, and poor Britain's best, With palsied hand shall turn each model o'er, And own himself an infant of fourscore. (5) Be all the bruisers cull'd from all St. Giles*, That art and nature may compare their styles; While brawny brutes in stupid wonder stare, And marvel at his lordship's * stone-shop'(6) there. Round the tbrong'd gate shall sauntering coxcombs creep,

To lounge and lucubrate, to prate and peep;

While many a languid maid, with longing sigh,

On giant statues casts the curious eye;

The room with transient glance appears to skim,

Y'et marks the mighty back and length of limb;

Mourns o'er the difference of now and then;

Exclaims, * These Greeks indeed were proper men!*

Draws sly comparisons of these with /hose,

And envies Lai's all her Attic beaux.

When shall a modern maid have swains like these!

Alas! Sir Harry is no Hercules!

And last of all, amidst the gaping crew,

Some calm spectator, as he takes his view,(7)

minister wish to adorn the bleak walls of a northern castle witb antiques? the temples of Theseus or Minerva must be dismantled, and the works of Phidias or Praxiteles be torn from the shattered frieze. That a decrepit uncle, wrapped up in the religious duties of his age and station, should listen to the suggestions of an interested nephew, is nnturnl; and that an oriental despot should undervalue the masterpieces of Grecian art, is to be eipeeted—though in both cases the consequences of such weakness are much to be lamented; but that the minister of a nation, famed for its knowledge of the language, and its veneration for the monuments of ancient Greece, should have been the prompter and the instrument of these destructions, is almost incredible. Such rapacity is a crime against all ages and all generations: it deprives the past of the trophies of their genius and the title-deeds of tbeir fame; the present, of the strongest inducements to eiertion, the noblest exhibitions that curiosity can contemplate; the future, of the masterpieces of art, the models of imitation. To guard against the repetition of such depredations is the wish of every man of genius, the duty of every man in power, and the common interest of every civilized nation."—Eustace's Classical Tour through Italy. "This attempt to transplant the temple of Vesta from In silent indignation mix'd with grief,

Admires the plunder, but abhors the thief.(l)

Oh, loathed in life, nor pardon'd in the dust,

May hate pursue his sacrilegious lust!

Link'd with the fool that fired the Ephesian dome,

Shall vengeance follow far beyond the tomb,

And Eratostratus and Elgin shine

In many a branding page and burning line;

Alike reserved for aye to stand accursed,

Perchance the secoud blacker than the first.

aSo let him stand, through ages yet unborn,
Fix'd statue on the pedestal of Scorn;
Though not for him alone Revenge shall wait,
But fits thy country for her coming fate:
Hers were the deeds that taught her lawless son
To do what oft Britannia's self had done.
Look, to the Baltic—blazing from afar,
Your old ally yet mourns perfidious war.(2)
Not to such deeds did Pallas lend her aid,
Or break the compact which herself had made;
Far from such councils, from the faithless field
She fled—but left behind her Gorgon shield:
A fatal gift that tnrn'd your friends to stone,
And left lost Albion hated and alone.

u Look to the East, where Ganges' swarthy race
Shall shake your tyrant empire to its base;
Lo! there Rebellion rears her ghastly head,
And glares the Nemesis of native dead;
Till Indus rolls a deep purpureal flood,
And claims his long arrear of northern blood.
So may ye perish!—Pallas, wheu she gave
Your free-born rights, forbade ye lo enslave.

u Look on your Spain !—she clasps the hand she hates,

But coldly clasps, and thrusts you from her gates.
Bear witness, bright Barossa! thou canst tell
Whose were the sons that bravely fought and fell.
But Lusitania, kind and dear ally,
Can spare a few to fight, and sometimes fly.
Oh glorious field! by Famine fiercely won,
The Gaul retires for once, and all is done:
But when did Pallas teach, that one retreat
Retrieved three long olympiads of defeat?

"Look last at home—-ye love not to look there —
On the grim smile of comfortless despair:
Your city saddens: loud though Revet howls,
Here Famine faints, and yonder Rapine prowls.
See all alike of more or less bereft;
No misers tremble when there's nothing left.
'Blest paper credit' (3) who shall dare to sing?
It clogs like lead Corruption's weary wing.
Yet Pallas pluck'd each premier by the ear,
Who gods and men alike disdain'd to hear;

Italy to England may, perhaps, do honour to the late Lord Bristol's patriotism or to his magnificence; but it cannot be considered as an indication of either taste or judgment."


(I) "That the Elgin marbles will contribute to the improvement of art in England cannot be doubted. They must certainly open the eyes of the British artists, and prove that the true and only road to simplicity and beauty is the study of nature. But, had we a right to diminish the interest of Athens for selfish motives, and prevent successive generalions of other nations from seeing those admirable sculp

But one, repentant o'er a bankrupt state,
On Pallas calls,—but calls, alas! too late:
Then raves for * *; to that Mentor bends,
Though he and Pallas never yet were friends.
Him senates hear, whom never yet they heard,
Contemptuous once, and now no less absurd.
So, once of yore, each reasonable frog
Swore faith and fealty to his sovereign 'log;'
Thus hail'd your rulers their patrician clod,
As Egypt chose an onion for a god.

"Now fare ye well! enjoy your little hour;
Go, grasp the shadow of your vanish'd power;
Gloss o'er the failure of each fondest scheme;
Your strength a name, your bloated wealth a dream.
Gone is that gold, the marvel of mankind,
And pirates barter all that's left behind.(4)
No more the hirelings, purchased near and far,
Crowd to the ranks of mercenary war.
The idle merchant on the useless quay
Droops o'er the bales no bark may bear away;
Or, back returning, sees rejected stores
Rot piecemeal on his own encumber'd shores:
The starved mechanic breaks his rusting loom,
And desperate mans him 'gainst the coming doom.
Then in the senate of your sinking state
Show me the man whose counsels may have weight
Vain is each voice where tones could once command;
E'en factions cease to charm a factious land:
Yet jarring sects convulse a sister isle,
And light with maddening hands the mutual pile.

"Tis done, 'tis past, since Pallas warns in vain; The Furies seize her abdicated reign: Wide o'er the realm they wave their kindling bracicLs And wring her vitals with their fiery hands. But one convulsive struggle still remains, And Gaul shall weep ere Albion wear her chains. The banner'd pomp of war, the glittering files, O'er whose gay trappings stern Bellona smiles; The brazen trump, the spirit-stirring drum, That bid the foe defiance ere they come; The hero bounding at his country's call, The glorious death that consecrates his fall, Swell the young heart with visionary charms, And bid it antedate the joys of arms. But know, a lesson you may yet be taught, With death alone are laurels cheaply bought: Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delight, His day of mercy is the day of fight. But when the field is fought, the battle won, Though drench'd with gore, his woes are but begun: His deeper deeds as yet ye know by name; The slaughter'd peasant and the ravish'd dame, The rilled mansion and the foe-reap'd field, I!! suit with souls at home, untaught to yield. Say with what eye, along the distant down, Would flying burghers mark the blazing town?

tures? The Temple of Minerva was spared as a beacon to the world, to direct it to the knowledge of parity of taste. What can we say to the disappointed traveller, who is now deprived of the rich gratification which would have compensated bis travel and his toil? It will be little consolation to him to say, he may find the sculpture of the Parthenon in England." //. //'. miliums.—L. B.

12) The affair of Copenhagen.—L. E.

I'i) "Blest paper credit 1 last and best supply.

That lends Corruption lighter wings to fly Pope.

(i) The Deal and Dover traffickers in specie.

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