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The reindeer's spoil, the ermine's treasure shares,
And feasts his famine on the fat of bears ;
Or, wrestling with the might of raging seas,
Where round the pole the eternal billows freeze,
Plucks from their jaws the stricken whale, in vain
Plunging down headlong through the whirling main;
-His wastes of ice are lovelier in his eye
Than all the flowery vales beneath the sky,
And dearer far than Cæsar's palace-dome,
His cavern-shelter, and his cottage-home.

O’er China's garden-fields and peopled floods;
In California's pathless world of woods;
Round Andes' heights, where Winter, from his throne,
Looks down in scorn upon the summer zone;
By the gay borders of Bermuda's isles,
Where Spring with everlasting verdure smiles,
On pure Madeira's vine-robed hills of health ;
In Java's swamps of pestilence and wealth:
Where Babel stood, where wolves and jackals drink,
Midst weeping willows, on Euphrates' brink;
On Carmel's crest; by Jordan's reverend stream,
Where Canaan's glories vanished like a dream;
Where Greece, a spectre, haunts her heroes' graves,
And Rome's vast ruins darken Tiber's waves;
Where broken-hearted Switzerland bewails
Her subject mountains and dishonoured vales;
Where Albion's rocks exult amidst the sea,
Around the beauteous isle of Liberty;

-Man, through all ages of revolving time,
Unchanging man, in every varying clime,
Deems his own land of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ;
His home the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

THE PATRIOT.
Swell, swell the shrill trumpet clear sounding afar,

Our sabres flash splendour around ;
For Freedom has summoned her sons to the war,

Nor Britain has shrunk from the sound.
Let plunder's vile thirst the invaders inflame;

Let slaves for their wages be bold;
Shall valour the harvest of avarice claim ?

Shall Britons be bartered for gold ?
No! free be our aid, independent our might,

Proud honour our guerdon alone :
Unbought be the hand that we raise in the fight,

And the sword that we brandish our own.
And all that we love to our thoughts shall succeed,

Their image each labour shall cheer;
For them we will conquer, for them we will bleed,

And our pay be a smile or a tear.
And oh! if returning triumphant we move,

Or sink on the land that we save-
Oh! blest by his country, his kindred, his love,

Ilow vast the reward of the brave !

THE PAINTER WHO PLEASED NOBODY

AND EVERY BODY.
Lest men suspect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.
The traveller leaping o'er those bounds,
The credit of his book confounds.
Who with his tongue hath armies routed,
Makes even his real courage doubted;
But flattery never seems absurd ;
The flattered always take your word :
Impossibilities seem just;
They take the strongest praise on trust.

Hyperboles, though ne'er so great,
Will still come short of self-conceit.

So very like a Painter drew,
That every eye the picture knew;
He hit complexion, feature, air,
So just, the life itself was there.
No flattery with his colours laid,
To bloom restored the faded maid ;
He gave each muscle all its strength ;
The mouth, the chin, the nose's length.
His honest pencil touched with truth,
And marked the date of age and youth.
He lost his friends, his practice failed ;
Truth should not always be revealed;
In dusty piles his pictures lay,
For no one sent the second pay.
Two bustos, fraught with every grace,
A Verus and Apollo's face,
He placed in view ; resolved to please,
Whoever sat, he drew from these,
From these corrected every feature,
And spirited each awkward creature.

All things were set; the hour was come, His palette ready o'er his thumb. My Iord appeared ; and seated right In proper attitude and light, The painter looked, he sketched the piece, Then dipt his pencil, talked of Greece, Of Titian's tints, of Guido's air; “ Those eyes, my Lord, the spirit there “ Might well a RAPHAEL's hand require, " To give them all the native fire; The features fraught with sense and wit, “ You'll grant are very hard to hit ; “But yet with patience you shall view “ As much as paint and art can do." “ Observe the work.” My Lord replied, “ 'Till now I thought my mouth was wide ; “ Besides, my nose is somewhat long; “ Dear Sir, for me, 'tis far too young."

“O! pardon me,” the artist cried,
“ In this, we painters must decide.
“The piece even common eyes must strike,
I warrant it extremely like.”

My Lord examined it a-new;
No looking glass seemed half so true.

A Lady came, with borrowed grace
He from his Venus formed her face.
Her lover praised the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart !
To every age some charm he lent!
Even Beauties were almost content.

Through all the town his art they praised ;
His custom grew, his price was raised.
Had he the real likeness shewn,
Would any man the picture own?
But when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.

INSTRUCTION SOUGHT FROM THE BEE.
Buzzing insect, busy creature,

I would know thy wondrous skill,
Thou dost roam o'er blooming nature,

And thy hive with honey fill.
Dost thou toil through every hour ?
Dost thou gain from every flower ?

Let me learn of thee.

Teach me, sweetest insect flying,

How like thee to choose the best ;
Phou that dost, thy tribe outvying,

Live to work, but die to rest :
When my time on earth shall end,
What may then my soul befriend?

Let me learn of thee.

Varied plants with mingled odours,

Nature oft presents below;
Some may please, yet some forebode us ;

Teach me these in truth to know.
Skill is thine t'extract the sweet
Patience thine, the toil to greet:

Let me learn of thee.
“ Man, arise! thy sun is shining;

Lose not time in sinful ease;
Prudence with thy zeal combining,

Ills escape and blessings seize.
Sweets may dwell with lowly flowers,
Poisons hide in fragrant bowers.

Stoop, and learn of me.
“ Flowers unnumbered make me wander,

One alone might thee avail :
See that Rose of SIARON yonder,

Try yon Lily of the Vale.
Sacred perfume there is found,
Ainple treasures there abound.

Haste, and learn of me.
“Man, be wise! thy days are fitting;

Health and strength, and means will end;
Strive to gain what's most befitting,

Peaceful then to rest descend.
Lo! a brighter day shall rise-
Scenes unfading greet thine eyes,
Verdant ’neath immortal skies.

Think, and learn of me."

THE INFLUENCE OF HOPE. At summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below,

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