Sad Zephyr skims the garden round,
And o'er his fav'rites grieves,
And faintly sighs with plaintive sound
'Mong scathed flowers and leaves;
Tir'd bees unwonted distance roam,
And bring but half their lading home.

While Nature burns throughout her frame,
And vapours taint the air,

Can Man alone exemption claim
From ills, all else must share?
Ah, No! he feels her ev'ry pain,
Link'd in the universal chain.

-But soft!-the welcome show'rs arrive,
-How drinks thè gladden'd soil!-

-How the flow'rs breathe-the plants revive,
How the gay pastures smile!

And Man reviving with the earth,

Inhales new health, new joy, new birth!

But ah! in vain, for such whose pow'rs
In lingering pain decay,.

In vain kind Heav'n its pity show'rs,
And freshen'd breezes play;
In vain the grateful earth replies,

And breathes her incense to the skies.

They may not trace the silver stream,
Along its winding way,

Nor wander at the setting beam,

To hail declining day;

For Ev'ning's sighs borne on the breeze,
So sweet to Health, were Death to these !-

ODE

ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL ROMANA.

BY PROFESSOR RICHARDSON.

İ.

Lo! in that isle, girt by the Scandian wave,
Romana, with his bold Iberians, brave
Their Gallic foe. Behold them bare

Their manly bosoms! "We will die," they swear, "Will shield and save our native land, or die."The patriot oath was heard, and register'd on high.

II.

That day, in presence of th' Almighty mind,
With holy awe, the Genius of mankind,
Rang'd in the radiant courts of Heaven

With those to whom the gracious charge was given
Of other splendid orbs, with ardent gaze,

Kenn'd, as it roll'd afar, his own fair planet blaze.

III.

And upward as th' unusual radiance flow'd,
The conscious rapture of his bosom glow'd,
While shouts of many nations came,

And loud and clear amid the vast acclaim,
The recent blazon of th' Iberian race
Rose thro' the starry spheres of intermediate space.

IV.

The solemn oath was register'd on high!
And rising, thro' Iberia's troubled sky,

By flame-man'd coursers drawn, behold
Romana wafted in a car of gold!

Whose corruscations bright as they ascend, With lightning's flashing wide from Heaven's high portal blend.

V.

And lo! while loose his raven tresses fly,
With the dark lustre of an eagle eye,

Thy Genius, by th' unfolded gate,

With helm and spear, Iberia! deigns to wait,

And greet the stranger.-But,

66

return," he says,

"Nor yet a while enjoy thy meed of full-earn'd praise.

VI.

"While other warriors in the marshal'd field,
"With patriot zeal, and virtuous ire impell'd,
"Hurl their loud vengeance on the foe,
"Till the red flood-gates of the battle flow;
"Be thine a loftier holier task! descend,

"Inspire, and with their spirits, let thy spirit blend.

VII.

"Go, reinforce them if their fires relent, "Chill'd by disaster, or unduly spent

"In rash atchievement. Go, impart "The wisdom of thine own sagacious heart; "And deeply let these truths their minds impress, "No sloth can win, no rashness shall controul, "But wise, and manly perseverance, sole,

"With th' aid of Heaven, shall earn, and ratify suc cess,"

VIII.

Nor shall the Cimbrian isle no fame obtain,
That saw Romana rouse the wrath of Spain.
Tho' cold beneath a northern clime,

Veil'd with gray mists, and hoar with frosty rime,
With scant and transient grace thy fields display
The chearful bloom of summer's fair array,
Yet, Funen, shall thy little island claim

Distinction, henceforth class'd with lands of antient

"I saw," the future traveller will relate,

"Ween, Tycho's isle that crowns the Baltic strait, "And Hamlet's famous Elsinore,

"Hafnia's fair city, Zealand's verdant shore, "Contrasted with the mountainous array

"That Swedeland's rocks, in gloomy pomp, display, "And Funen, dear to freedom, where a band "Of patriots vow'd to die, or free their native land.”

TO A BEAUTIFUL BEGGAR *: (Supposed to have been written by a Clerk to a Magistrate.)

FROM THE SPANISH OF CERVANTES.

Go, beautiful beggar, depart from this door,
Here charity dwells not; 'tis shut on the poor.
The wretched, with age and with sickness decay'd,
Scarcely pick up a crumb when the dogs have been fed.
But thy youth and thy health, thro' thy rags as they
smile,

Pronounce thee unwilling yet able to toil.

Thy youth and thy health that with rapture I see, Through thy rags and thy dirt, as they beam upon

me

Those lips asking kisses, those love-darting eyes-
Ah! how will they speak to the old and the wise?—
I am young, and tho' cold and insensible thought,
I feel I can pity, by loveliness taught:

But what are my feelings, my pity, my love!
Oh! pardon a language you may not approve―

* These verses were intended for insertion in a translation of Cervantes's novel of the Gitanilla. The girl is supposed to read them to a party of young men (before whom she appeared with the company of gypsies, to which she belonged) as a specimen of what productions her charms had given rise to. One of the young men, out of jealousy, snatches them out of her hands before she comes to the end.