Published by J. Robins and Co. London, June 30, 1824.

Spurn every vice, each little meanness shun,
Not Fortune's minion, but her noblest son.

Turn to the annals of a former day,

Bright are the deeds thine earlier sires display;
One, though a courtier, lived a man of worth,
And called, proud boast! the British drama forth.*
Another view, not less renowned for wit,
Alike for courts and camps, or senates, fit;
Bold in the field, and favoured by the Nine,
In every splendid part ordained to shine;
Far, far distinguished from the glittering throng,
The pride of princes, and the boast of song.†
Such were thy fathers: thus preserve their name,
Not heir to titles only, but to Fame.

The hour draws nigh, a few brief days will close,

To

me, this little scene of joys and woes;

Each knell of time now warns me to resign

Shades, where Hope, Peace, and Friendship, all were mine;
Hope, that could vary like the rainbow's hue,
And gild their pinions as the moments flew ;
Peace, that reflection never frowned away,
By dreams of ill, to cloud some future day;
Friendship, whose truth let childhood only tell-
Alas! they love not long, who love so well.
To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er
Scenes hailed, as exiles hail their native shore,
Receding, slowly, through the dark blue deep,
Beheld by eyes that mourn, yet cannot weep.

D-r-t, farewell! I will not ask one part
Of sad rememberance in so young a heart;

*Thomas S-k-lle, Lord B-k-st, created Earl of D- by James the First, was one of the earliest and brightest ornaments to the poetry of his country, and the first who produced a regular drama.'-ANDERSON's British Poets.

+ Charles S-k-lle, Earl of D-, esteemed the most accomplished man of his day, was alike distinguished in the voluptuous court of Charles II. and the gloomy one of William III. He behaved with great gallantry in the sea-fight with the Dutch, in 1665, on the day previous to which he composed his celebrated song His character has been drawn in the highest colours by Dryden, Pope, Prior and Congreve.-Vide ANDERSON's British Poets.

K

The coming morrow from thy youthful mind
Will sweep my name, nor leave a trace behind.
And yet, perhaps, in some maturer year,

Since chance has thrown us in the self-same sphere;
Since the same senate-nay, the same debate-
May one day claim our suffrage for the state;
We hence may meet, and pass each other by
With faint regard, or cold and distant eye.
For me, in future, neither friend nor foe,
A stranger to thyself, thy weal or woe,
With thee no more again I hope to trace
The recollection of our early race;
No more, as once, in social hours, rejoice,
Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known voice.
Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught

To veil those feelings which, perchance, it ought;
If these but let me cease the lengthened strain,
Oh! if these wishes are not breathed in vain,
The Guardian Seraph who directs thy fate
Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee great.

TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS.

ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL, WHEN DYING.

Animula! vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque, corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca?
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos.

TRANSLATION.

Ah! gentle, fleeting, wavering sprite,
Friend and associate of this clay!
To what unknown region borne,
Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight?
No more with wonted humour gay,
But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.