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• upon you,' faid Eden, tenderly, The probabilities are as you say, but with astonishment. She is my • but we muit not yield to them

daughter,' exclaimed the stranger. ' rafhly.' • Has not that occurred to you? 6 A servant now announced to • But no! I must not say fo: them the arrival of Mrs. Alwin. • Alas! I may be mistaken. Yet Her father was one of the persons • I, on leaving England, took the to whom Clement, who was his

name of Fitzalleyn ; left my kinsman, and not knowing that he • daughter an infant; was never was the father of Mrs. Alwin, had • heard of! Her mother dead !' addressed himself for information. So saying, he fell back on the seat, He sent by his daughter, who flew and found relief in a flood of tears. on the wings of friendship, the very The state of Eden's feelings defies joyful intelligence, which Eden and words and description. His afto- his honoured benefactor had alnishment, however, some transient ready, the one with eagerness, and doubts, and some fears soon rebuk- the other with caution, ventured in ed by his hopes, and his hopes fome degree to anticipate. themselves, were instantly absorbed the joy of Clement, while he bleirin all the ravishment of expecta- ed his affectionate child, was mintion. The dear object of his faith- gled with fad remembrance, and ful and most tender regard must be with the tender recollection of her the child of his earliest friend, of amiable mother. Time, however, his deliverer, of his protector ! She and the confolation he now receivwas now to feel herself on that foot- ed, restored him to becoming coming of equality, which, in the ex- posure ; beams of the gentleti feretreme, and somewhat blameable nity thone on his hcary locks ; foi delicacy of her sentiments, she held his children continued virtuous; essential to the ease and confidence and were rewarded with as much of mutual love. If any obligation enjoyment as virtue can here exremained, he was to be the person pect. obliged. He assured his friend " Whatsoever opinion may be • that it must be fo; and as far as formed of the preceding story,

youth could resemble age, that which is founded on facs, and • his daughter resembled him; and whatsoever sentiments it may tend ' urged him therefore to give im- to excite, I persuade myself that • mediate intimation to his dear one reflection in particular will * Matilda.' --- Matilda was the arife unsuggested in the breafts of • name of my child,' said Clement, my philanthropical friends; for now recovered from agitation, and they will reflect with pleasure, that in a tone of acquiefcing compla- the indulgence of a philanthropicency. ' But ftill there may be cal temper, and the performance of • fome mistake; and the confe- benevolent actions, may produce ef

quences of difappointment in a fects fo beneficial, as io mock cal• matter fo intimately interesting culation; and in ways beyond the " to us both, and to your dear Matil- reach of conjecture ; and at times

da, might be unspeakably fatal. when expectation is dead."

POETRY.

Ops for the New YEAR.

By Henry James Pye, Ese. PoET LAUREAT,

I.

'ER the vex'a bofom of the deep,

When ruthing wild with frantic haste,
The winds with angry pinions sweep

The surface of the wat'ry waste,
Though the firm veflel proudly brave
The inroad of the giant wave,
Through the bold seaman's firmer soul
View unappall'd the billowy mountains roll,

Yet ftill along the murky 1ky

Anxious he throws th' enquiring eye,
If haply through the gloom that round him low'rs
Shoot one refulgent ray, prelude of happier hours.

II.

So Albion, round her rocky coast,
While loud the rage of battle roars,
Derides Invasion's haughty boast,
Safe in her wave-encircled shores,

Still 1afer in her dauntless band,
Lords of her seas or guardians of her land,

Whofe patriot zeal, whose bold emprize,
Rise as the storms of danger rise;
Yet, temp'ring Glory's ardent flame

With gentle Mercy's milder claim,
She bends from scenes of blood th'averted eye,
And coạrts the siniles of Peace 'mid shouts of victory.

III.

She courts in vain ! - The ruthless foe,
Deep drench'd in blood, yet thirsting still for more,

Deaf to the shrieks of agonizing woe,
Views with rapacious eye cach neighb'ring shore.

Mine be th eternal sway, aloud he cries,
Where'er my sword prevails, my conqu’ring banner flies.

IV. Genius

IV.

Genius of Albion, hear!
Grasp the strong fhield, and shake th' avenging spear.

By wreaths thy hardy sons of yore
From Gallia's crest vi&torious tore ;
By Edward's lily blazon'd fhield;
By Agincourt's high-trophied field;

By raih Iberia's naval pride,
Whelm'd by Eliza’s barks beneath the stormy tide;

Call forth thy warrior race again,
Breathing to ancient mood the soul-inspiring strain;

“ To arms! your enfigns straight display!
Now set the battle in array !

The oracle for war declares,
Success depends upon our hearts and spears,
Britons, strike home! revenge your country's wrongs ;
Fight, and record yourselves in Druid fongs!"

ELEGY written in a CHURCH-YARD in SOUTH WALES.

[From Poems by WILLIAM Mason, M. A. Vol. III.)

F

FROM fouthern Cambria's richly-varied clime,

Where grace and grandeur share an equal reign;
Where cliffs o'erhung with fhade, and hills sublime

Of mountain lineage sweep into the main ;
From bays, where commerce furls her wearied fails,

Proud to have dar'd the dangers of the deep,
And fioats at anchor'd ease inclos'd by vales,

To ocean's verge where stray the vent'rous sheep : From brilliant scenes like these I turn my eye }

And, lo! a folemn circle meets its view, Wall'd to protect inhum'd mortality,

And shaded close with poplar and with yew. Deep in that dell the humble fane appears,

Whence prayers if humble best to heaven aspire ; No tower embattled, no proud spire it rears,

A moss-grown croflet decks its lowly choir. And round that fane the sons of toil repose,

Who drove the plough-Ihare, or the fail who spread; With wives, with children, all in meafur'd rows,

Two whiten'd flint ftones mark the feet and head. While these between full many a fimple flow'r,

Panfy, and pink, with languid beauty smile;
The primrose opening at the twilight hour,

And velvet tufts of fragrant chamomile.
For, more intent the smell than fight to please,

Surviving love felects its vernal race;

Plants

Plants that with early perfume feed the breeze

May beft each dank and noxious vapour chafe.
The flaunting tulip, the carnation gay,

Turnfole, and piony, and all the train
That love to glitter in the noon-tide ray,

Ill suit the copse where death and filence reign.
Not but perchance, to deck some virgin's tomb,

Where violets sweet their twofold purple spread,
Some rose of maiden blush may faintly bloom,

Or with’ring hang its emblematic head.
These to renew, with more than annual care

That wakeful love with penfive step will go;
The hand that lifts the dibble shakes with fear

Left haply it difturb the friend below.
Vain fear! for never thall disturber come

Potent enough to wake such feep profound,
Till the dread herald to the day of doom

Pours from his trump the world diffolving found.
Vain fear | yet who that boasts a heart to feel,

An eye to pity, would that fear reprove ?
They only who are curst with breasts of feel

Can mock the foibles of surviving love.
Those foibles far beyond cold reafon's claim

Have power the focial charities to 1pread;
They feed, sweet tenderness! thy lambent flame,

Which, while it warms the heart, improves the head.
Its chemic aid a gradual heat applies

That from the dross of self each with refines,
Extracts the liberal spirit, bids it rise

Till with primæval purity it shines.
Take then, poor peasants, from the friend of Gray

His humbler praise; for Gray or fail'd to see,
Or saw unnotic'd, what had wak'd a lay

Rich in the pathos of true poefy.
Yes, had he pac'd this church-way path along,

Or lean'd like me againft this ivied wall,
How sadly sweet had flow'd his Dorian song,

Then sweetest when it flow'd at nature's call.
Like Tadmor's sting, his comprehensive mind

Each plant's peculiar character could seize;
And hence his moralizing * mule had join'd,

To all these flow'rs, a thousand fimilies.
But he alas ! in diftant village-grave

Has mix'd with dear maternal duft his own ; * This epithet is used to call to the reader's recollection a passage in Shakespear, defcriptive of a character to which in its best parts Mr, Gray's was not diflimilar. Duke Sen. But what said Jaques?

Did he not moralize this le?
Firf Lord. O yes, into a thousand Smilies.

As you like it, A&.2. Scene I.

Er'n now the pang, which parting friendship gare;

Thrills at my heart, and tells me he is gone.
Take then from me the pensive ftrain that flows

Congenial to this confecrated gloom;
Where all that meets my eye fome fymbol shows

Of grief, like mine, that lives beyond the tomb. Shows me that you, though doom'd the livelong year

For scanty food the toiling arm to ply,
Can smite your breasts, and find an inmate there

To heave, when mem'ry bids, the ready figh.
Still nurse that best of inmates, gentle swains !

Still act as heartfelt sympathy inspires; The taste, which birth from education gains,

Serves but to chill affection's native tires. To you more knowledge than what shields from vice

Were but a gift would multiply your cares; Of matter and of mind let reasoners nice

Dispute; be patience yours, presumption theirs. You know (what more can earthly science know?)

That all muft die; by revelation's ray Ilum'd, you trust the ashes placed below

These flow'ry tufts, shall rise again to day. What if you deem, by hoar tradition led,

To you perchance devolv'd from Druids old, That parted fouls at folemn seasons tread

The circles that their fhrines of clay enfold ? What if you deem they fome sad pleasure take

These poor memorials of your love to view, And scent the perfume for the planter's fake,

That breathes from vulgar rosemary and rue? Unfeeling Wit may scorn, and Pride may frown;

Yet Fancy, empress of the realms of song, Shall bless the decent mode, and Reason own

It may be right--for who can prove it wrong?

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