Sidor som bilder

707. THE STREAM OF LIFE. Life-bears | In park, in city, yea, in routs and balls, (wild us on like the stream of a mighty river. Our The hat was worn, and borne. Then folks grew boat, at first glides down the narrow channel, With curiosity,—and whispers rose, through the playful murmurings of the little and questions passed about-how one so trim brook, and the windings of its

grassy border. The trees shed their blossoms over our young

In coats, boots, pumps, gloves, trousers, could heads, the flowers, on the brink, seem to offer His caput-in a covering so vile. [ensconce themselves to our young hands; we are hap- A change came o'er the nature of my hatpy in hope, and we grasp. eagerly, at the Grease-spots appeared-but still in silence, on beauties around us; but the stream hurries on, and still our hands are empty.

I wore it-and then family, and friends Our course in youth, and manhood, is along Glared madly at each other. There was one, a wider, and deeper flood, and amid objects Who said—but hold—no matter what was said, more striking, and magnificent. We are ani- A time may come, when I-away--away-mated by the moving picture of enjoyment, Not till the season's ripe, can I reveal and industry, which passes before us; we thoughts that do lie too deep for common minds, are excited by some short-lived success, or Till then, the world sball not pluck out the heart depressed, and made miserable, by some equally short-lived disappointment. But our of this, my mystery. When I will—I will! energy, and our dependence are both in vain. The hat was now-greasy, and old, and tornThe stream bears us on, and our joys, and But torn-old--greasy--still I wore it on. our griefs, are alike, left behind us; we may A change came o'er the business of this hat. be shipwrecked, but we cannot anchor; our

and men,

and children, scowled on me; voyage may be hastened, but it cannot be delayed; whether rough or sinooth, the river My company was shunned—I was alone! hastens towards its home, till the roaring of None would associate with such a halthe ocean is in our ears, and the tossing of Friendship itself proved faithless, for a hat. the waves is beneath our keel; and the lands She, that I loved, within whose gentle breast lessen from our eyes, and the floods are lifted | I treasured up my heart, looked cold as death-up around us, and the earth loses sight of us, Love's fires went out-extinguished-by a hat. and we take our last leave of earth, and of its inhabitants; and of our further voyage, there of those, that knew me best, some turned aside, is no witness, but the Infinite and the Eternal. And scudded down dark lanes-one man did place

And do we still take so much anxious His finger on his nose's side, and jeeredthought for future days, when the days which Others, in horrid mockery, laughed outright; have gone by, have so strangely, and uniform-Yea, dogs, deceived by instinct's dubious ray, ly deceived us? Can we still so set our hearts on the creatures of God, when we find Fixing their swart glare on my ragged hat, by sad experience, the Creator only is perma

Mistook me for a beggar--and they barked. nent? Or, shall we not rather lay aside every Thus, women, men, friends, strangers, lover, weight, and every sin which doth most easily One thought pervaded all-it was iny hat. [dogs, beset us, and think of ourselves, henceforth, A change-it was the last-came o'er this hat. as wayfaring, persons only, who have no For lo! at length, the circling months went round, abiding inheritance, but in the hope of a better world, and to whom even that worla The period was accomplished—and one day would be worse than hopeless, if it were not This tattered, brown, old, greasy coverture, for our Lord Jesus Christ, and the interest we (Time had endeared its vileness,) was transferr'd have obtained in his mercies.

To the possession of a wandering son708. THE OLD HAT.

Of Israel's fated race--and friends once inore I had a hat-it was not all a hat

Greeted my digits, with the wonted squeeze : Part of the brim was gone,-yet still, I wore Once more I went my way-along-alongIt on, and people wondered, as I passed.

And plucked no wondering gaze-the hand of Some, turned to gaze-others, just cast an eye, With its annoying fier-men, and dogs, (scorn And soon withdrew it, as 'twere in contempt.

Once niore grew Juntess, jokeless, laughless, But still, my hat, although so fashionless,

growlless : In complement extern, had that within,

And last, not least of rescued blessings, loveSurpassing show-my head continued warm ; Love smiled on me again, when I assumed Being sheltered from the weather, spite of all A bran new beaver of the Andre mould; The want (as has been said,) of brim.

And then the laugh was mine, for then came out A change came o'er the color of my hat.

The secret of this strangeness,-'twas a BET. That, which was black, grew brown, and then What are riches, empire, pow'r, men stared

But larger means to gratify the will ? With both their eyes (they stared with one before); The steps on which we tread, to rise and reach The wonder now, was twofold-and it seemed Our wish; and that obtain'd, down with the scafStrange, that things so torn, and old, should still folding

[served their end, Be worn, by one who might-but let that pass! Or sceptres, crowns, and thrones; they have I had my reasons, which might be revealed, And are, like lumber, to be left and scorn'd. But, for some counter reasons far more strong, Honor and virtue-are the boons we claim; Which tied iny tongue to silence. Time passed on. Nought gives a zest to life, when they are fled; Green spring, and flowery summer-autumn Nought else, can fan aright the holy flame : brown,

And, should they perish, every hope is dead. And frosty winter came,-and went, and came

The man, who builds, and lacks wherewith to pay, And still, through all the seasons of two years, Provides a house from which to run away.

708. CHARACTER OF PITT. The secre

709. LOCHINVAR. tary-stood alone; modern degeneracy–had O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, not reached him. Original, and unaccom- Thro'all the wide border, his steed was the bestmodating, the features of his character-had the hardihood of antiquity. His august mind And save his good broadsword, he weapon had overawed majesty: and one of his sovereigns He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. [none, thought royalty--so impaired in his presence, So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, that he conspired to remove him, in order to There never was knight, like the young Lochinvar. be relieved from his superiority. .No state He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, sank him to the vulgar level of the great; He swam the Eske river, where ford there was to overbearing, persuasive, and impractic- But ere he alighted, at Netherby gate, (none. ave, his object-was England, his ambition The bride had consented, the gallant came late. was fame. Without dividing, he destroyed For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, party; without corrupting, he made a venal was to wed the fair Ellen, of brave Lochinvar. age unanimous.

France – sank beneath him. With one So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall, [all, hand, he smote the house of Bourbon, and 'Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers and wielded, with the other, the democracy of Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, England. The sight of his mind-was infi- For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word, nite; and his schemes were to affect, not “O come ye in peace, here, or come ye in war, England, and the present age only, but Europe, and posterity. Wonderful were the Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?” means, by which these schemes were accom-“I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; plished; always seasonable, always adequate, Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; the suggestions of an understanding, ani- And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, mated by ardor, and enlightened by prophecy. To tread but one measure, drink one cup of wine.

The ordinary feelings, which rende: life amiable, and indolent, were unknown to him. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, No domestic difficulty, no domestic weakness That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinreached him; but, aloof from the sordid oc- var." currences of life, and unsullied by its inter- The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, course, he came, occasionally, into our system, He quafî'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup. to counsel, and to decide. A character so she look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, exalted, so strenuous, so various, and so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age; and the With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye. Treasury trembled at the name of Pitt, thro' He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar; all her classes of venality. Corruption ima “Now tread we a measure,"said young Lochinvar. gined, indeed, that she had found defects in So stately his form, and so lovely her face, this statesman; and talked much of the ruin That never a hall such a galliard did grace; of his victories; but the history of his country, while her mother did fret, and her father did fume, and the calamities of the enemy, refuted her.

Nor were his political abilities—his only And the bridegroom—stood dangling his bonnet talents: his eloquence-was an era-in the

and plume,

[ter by far, senate; peculiar, and spontaneous, familiarly And the bride maidens whispered, “ T were betexpressing gigantic sentiments, and instinc- To have match'd our fair cousin, with young tive wisdom; not like the torrent of Demos

Lochinvar." thenes, or the splendid conflagration of Tully, it resembled sometimes the thunder, and One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, sometimes the music of the spheres. He did | When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger not, like Murray, conduct the understanding

stood near, through the painful subtlety of argumenta- So light to the croupe, the fair lady he swung, tion, nor was he, like Townshend, forever on So light to the saddle, before her he sprung, the rack of exertion; but, rather, lightened She's won, we are gone, over bank, bush, and upon the subject, and reached the point by flashings of the mind, which, like those of his


[young Lochinvar, eye, were felt, but could not be followed. They'll have swift steeds that follow," quoth

Upon the whole, there was something in There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Nether. this man, that could create, subvert, or re

by clan,

[they ran, form; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and break the bonds of slavery asunder, and to There was racing, and chasing on Cannobie Lea, rule the wilderness of free minds with un- But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. bounded authority. something that could So daring in love, and so gallant in war, [invar? establish, or overwhelm empires, and strike Have you e'er heard of gallant like young Locha blow in the world, which should resound throughout the universe. Grattan.

The good merchant wrongs not the buyer

in number, weight, or measure. These are Reward him for the noble deed, just Heaven! the landmarks of all trading, which must not For this one action, guard him, and distinguish him, be removed: for such cosenage were worse With signal mercies and with great deliverances;

than open felony. First, because they rob a Save him from wrong, adversity and shame:

man of his purse, and never bid hin stand, Let never-fading honor flourish round him,

Secondly, because highway thieves defy, but

these pretend, justice. Thirdly, as much as And consecrate his name ev'n to time's end :

lies in their power, they endeavor to mako Let him know nothing but good on earth, God accessory to their cosenage, deceiving, And everlasting blessedness hereafter.

by pretending his weights.


erty, and independence, was a work of as much Speech of Gen. W. H. Harrison, the ninth President, in the Con difficulty, as danger. But, to a mind like Kosci

gress of the United States, in the year 1818, on a motion to adopt usko’s, the difficulty, and danger of an enterprise some public testimony of respect for the memory of General -served as stimulants to the undertaking. Thaddeus Kosciusko,

The annals of those times--give us no detail

ed account of the progress of Kosciusko, in acThe public papers-have announced an event, complishing his great work, from the period of which is well calculated to excite the sympathy his return io America, to the adoption of the new

of every American bosom. Kosciusko, the constitution of Poland, in 1791.' This interval, martyr of Liberty, is no more! We are inform- however, of apparent inaction, was most usefully ed, that he died at Soleure, in France, some time employed to illumine the mental darkness, which in October last.

enveloped his countrymen. To stimulate the ig, In tracing the events--of this great man's life, norant and bigotted peasantry with the hope of we find in him, that consistency of conduct, which future emancipation—10 teach a proud, bui galis the more to be admired, as it is so rarely to be lant nobility, that true glory is only to be found, net with. He was not, at one time, the friend of in the paths and duties of patriotism ;-interests the mankind, and at another, the instrument of their most opposed, prejudices--the most stubborn, and oppression; but he preserved, throughout his habits-the most inveterate, were reconciled, diswhole carcer, those noble principles, which dis- sipated, and broken, by the ascendancy of his tinguished him in its commencement; which in- virtues and example. The storm, which he had fluenced him, at an early period of his life, to foreseen, and for which he had been preparing, leave his country-and his friends, and, in another at length burst upon Poland. A feeble and unhemisphere, to fight-for the rights--of humanity. popular government

bent before its fury, and Kosciusko was born, and educated, in Poland; submitted itself to the Russian yoke of the inva. (of a noble, and distinguished family,) a country, der. But the nation disdained to follow iis examwhere the distinctions in society are, perhaps, ple; in their extremity, every eye was turned on carried to greater lengths, than in any other. His ihe hero, who had already fought their battles, the Creator had, however, endowed him with a soul sage, who had enlightened them, and the patriot, capable of rising above the narrow prejudices who had set the example of personal sacrifices of a caste, and breaking the shackles, which a to accomplish the emancipation of the people. vicious education had imposed on his mind. Kosciusko-was unanimously appointed gener: When he was very young, he was informed, by alissimo of Poland, with unlimited powers, unul the voice of Fame, that ihe standard of liberty the enemy should be driven from the country. On had been erected in America—ihat an insulted his virtue, the nation reposed with the utmost conand oppressed people--had determined to be free, fidence; and it is some consolation to reflechy or perish---in the attempt. His ardent and gen- amidst the general depravity of mankind, that erous mind-caught, with enthusiasm, the holy two instances, in the same age, have occurred, flame, and from that moment he became the dovo- where powers of this kind were employed-sole. ted soldier of liberty. His rank in the American ly for the purposes for which they were given. It army--afforded him no opportunity--greatly to is not my intention, sir, to follow the Polish chief distinguish himself. But he was remarkable---throughout the career of victory, which, for a through his service, for all the qualities which considerable time, crowned his efforts. Guided adorn the human character. His heroic valor in by his talents, and led by his valor, his undiscipthe field, could only be equaled-by his modera- lined, ill-armed militia-charged, with effect, the tion and affability, in the walks of private life. veteran Russian and Prussian; the mailed cuiHe was idolized by the soldiers—for his bravery, rassiers of the great Frederic, for the first time, and beloved and respected by the officers, for the broke—and fled, before the lighter, and more apgoodness of his heart, and the great qualities of propriate cavalry of Poland. Hope filled the his mind.

breasts of the patriots. After a long night, the Contributing greatly, by his exertions, to the es- dawn of an apparently glorious day-broke upon tablishment of the independence of America, he Poland. But to the discerning eye of Kosciusko, might have remained, and shared the blessings it the light which it shed-was of that sickly, and dispensed, under the protection of a chief, who portentous appearance, indicating a storm more loved and honored him, and in the bosom of a dreadful than that, which he had resisted. grateful and affectionate people. Kosciusko had, He prepared to meet it with firmness, but with however, other views. It is not known, that un- means entirely inadequate. To the advantages til the period I am speaking of, he had formed any of numbers, of tactics, of discipline, and inex. distinci idea-of what coulă, or indeed what ought haustible resources, the combined despots had seto be done--for his own country. But in the Rev. cured a faction—in the heart of Poland. And, if olutionary war, he drank, deeply, of the princi- that country-can boast of having produced its ples, which produced it. In his conversations Washington, it is disgraced also, by giving birth with the intelligent men of our country, he acqui. -to a second Arnold. The day at length came red new views of the science of government, and which was to decide the fate of a nation and a of the rights of man. He had seen, 100, that, to hero. Heaven, for wise purposes, permitted that be free, it was only necessary that a nation should it should be the last-of Polish liberiy. It was will it ; and to be happy, it was only necessary decided, indeed, before the battle commenced. that a nation should be free. And was it not pos- The traitor, Poniski, who covered, with a detachsible-10 procure these blessings for Poland! for ment, the advance of the Polish army, abandoned Poland, ihe country of his birth, which had a his position to the enemy, and retreated. claim to all his efforts, to all his services?

Kosciusko-was astonished, but not dismayed. That unhappy nation-groaned under a com- The disposition of his army would have done plication of evils, which has scarcely a parallel honor to Hannibal. The succeeding conflict was in history. The mass of people-were the ahject terrible. When the talents of the general-could slaves of the nobles; the nobles, torn into factions, no longer direct the mingled mass of combatants, were alternately the instruments, and the victims, the arm of the warrior was brought to the aid of of their powerful and ambitious neighbors. By his soldiers. He performed prodigies of valor. intrigue, corruption, and force, some of its fairest The fabled prowess of Ajaxin defending the provinces had been separated from the republic, Grecian ships-was realized by the Polish hero. and the people, like beasts, transferred to foreign Nor was he badly seconded by his troops. As despots, who were again watching for a favora- long as his voice could guide, or his example fire ble moment-for a second dismemberment. To their valor, they were irresistible. In this une regenerale a people—thus deba sed, to obtain for a qual contest-Kosciusko-was long seen, and fi. country-ihus circumstanced, the blessings of lib- 1 nally-lost-to their view.

"Hope-for a season, bade the world-farewell,

712. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell."

Under a spreading chestnut tree, He fell, covered with wounds, but still survived.

The village smithy stands; A Cossack would have pierced his breast, when The smith, a mighty man is he, an officer interposed. “Suffer him to execute his With large and sinewy hands ; purpose," said the bleeding hero; “I am the de

And the muscles of his brawny arms, voted soldier of my country, and will not survive its liberties.” The name of Kosciusko-struck

Are strong, as iron bands. to the heart of the 'Tartar, like that of Marius- His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; upon the Cimbrian warrior. The uplifted weap

His face--is like the tan; on-cropped-from his hand. Kosciusko-was conveyed to the dungeons of

His brow--is wet with honest sweat; Petersburgh; and, to the eternal disgrace of the

He earns--whate'er he can, Empress Catharine, she made him the object of And looks the whole world in the face, her vengeance, when he could no longer be the ob

For he owes not any man. ject of her fears. Her more generous son-restored him to liberty. The remainder of his life- Week out, week in, from morn till night, has been spent in virtuous retirement. Whilst in

You can hear his bellows blow; this situation, in France, an anecdote is related of

You hear him swing his heavy sledge, him, which strongly illustrates the command, which his virtues and his services had obtained

With measured beat and slow, over the minds of his countrymen.

Like a sexton, ringing the old kirk chimes, In the late invasion of France, some Polish re

When the evening sun is low. giments, in the service of Russia, passed through the village in which he lived. Some pillaging of

And children, coming home from school, the inhabitants brought Kosciusko from his col

Look in at the open door; tage. " When I was a Polish soldier,” said he, They love to see a flaming forge, addressing the plunderers, “ the property of the

And hear the bellows roar, peaceful citizen was respected."" And who art thou,” said an officer, “who addressest us with

And catch the burning sparks, that fly this tone of authority ?” “I am Kosciusko."

Like chaff--from a threshing-floor There was a magic in the word. It ran from

He goes, on Sunday, to the church, corps to corps, from heart to heart. The march was suspended. They gathered round him, and

And sits among his boys; gazed-with astonishment, and awe-upon the He hears the parson-pray and preach, mighty, ruin-he presented. “Could it, indeed, He hears his daughter's voice, be their hiero," whose fame was identified with

Singing-in the village choir, that of their country? A thousand interesting reflections burst upon their minds; they remember

And it makes his heart rejoice. ed his patriotism, his devotion to liberty, his tri- It sounds to him, like her mother's voice, umphs, and his glorious fall. Their iron hearts

Singing-in Paradise ! were softened, and the tear of sensibility trickled

He needs must think of her once more, down their weather-beaten faces. We can easily conceive, sir, what would be

How in the grave she lies; the feeling of the hero himself in such a scene. And with his hard--rough hand he wipes His great heart must have heaved with emotion

A tear from out his eyes. to find himself once more surrounded by the companions of his glory; and that he would have Toiling-rejoicing-sorrowingbeen upon the point of saying to them,

Onward--through life he goes: “ Behold your general, come once more

Each morning-sees some task begin, To lead you on to laureld victory,

Each evening-sees it close; To fame, to freedom."

Something attempted-something done, The delusion could have lasted but for a mo

Has earned a night's repose. ment. He was himself, alas! a miserable crip- Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, ple; and, for them! they were no longer the sol

For the lesson thou hast taught! diers of liberty, but the instruments of ambition

Thus-at the flaming forge of Life, and tyranny.

Overwhelmed with grief at the reflection, he would retire to his cottage, to mourn

Our fortunes must be wrought; afresh over the miseries of his country.

Thus, on its sounding anvil shaped, Such-was the man, sir, for whose memory I

Each burning deed, and thought. ask from an American congress, a slight tribute of respect. Not, sir, to perpetuate his fame, but There's a tear that falls when we parı our gratitude. His fame-will last as long as lib- From a friend whose loss we shall mourn; erty-remains upon the earth; as long as a vota: There's a tear that flows from the half-brok'n heart, ry—offers incense upon her altar, the name of

When we think he may never return-oh, never. Kosciusko-will be invoked. And if, by the common consent of the world, a temple shall be erect. 'Tis hard to be parted from those ed to those, who have rendered most service to With whom we forever could dwell, mankind--if the statue of our great countryman, But bitter, indeed, is the sorrow that flows [ever. Washington.-shall occupy the place of the Most Worthy,that of Kosciusco will be found by his

When, perhaps, we are saying farewell-forside, and the wreath of laurel--will be entwined | There's a tear that brightens the eye with the palm of virtue--to adorn his brow.

of the friend, when absence is o'er! Oh grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate There's a tear that flows not for sorrow,

but joy, First leaves the young heart-lone and desolate When we meet to be parted no more-oh, never! In the wide world, without that only tie

Then all that in absence we dread For which it lov'd-to live, or feared to die; Is past, and forgotten our pain; Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken For sweet is the tear we at such moments shed, Since the sad day—its master--chord was broken. When we behold the lov'd object again--forever. 713. LAY OF THE MADMAN.

Yet 'tis not always thus; sweet slumber steals « This is the foul fiend! He begins at curfew, and walks till Across my haggard mind, my weary sight; the first cock; he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye, and No more my brain-the iron pressure feels, makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor

Nor damned devils—howl the live-long night, creature of earth. Beware of the foul fiend !”—Shakspeare.

Visions of hope, and beauty-seem

To mingle-with my darker dream; Many a year-hath passed away,

They bear me back-to a long-lost day, Many a dark, and dismal year,

To the hours and joys of my boyhood's play, Since last I roam'd-in the light of day,

To the merry green, and the sportive scene, Or mingled my own with another's tear;

And the valley, the verdant hills between; Wo to the daughters-and sons of men- And a lovely form, with a bright blue eye, Wo to them all, when I roam again!

Flutters—my dazzled vision by; Here have I watch'd, in this dungeon cell, A tear starts up to my wither'd eye, Longer than Memory's tongue can tell;.

Gods! how I love to feel that tearHere have I shriek'd, in my wild despair,

Trickle my haggard visage o'er! When the damned fiends, from their prison came, The fountain of hope-is not yet dry! Sported and gambold, and mock'd me here, I feel, as I felt in days of yore, With their eyes of fire, and their tongues of flame; When I roam'd at large, in my native glen, Shouting forever, and aye—my name!

Honor'd and lov'd-by the sons of men, And I strove in vain-to burst my chain, Till, madden'd to find my home defil'd, And longed to be free, as the winds, again, I grasp'd the knife, in my frenzy wild, That I might spring-in the wizard ring, And plunged the blade-in my sleeping child! And scatter them back-to their hellish den! Wo to the daughters-and sons of men

They called me mad—they left me here, Wo to them all, when I roam again!

To my burning thoughts, and the fiend's despair,

Never, ah! never to see again How long-I have been in this dungeon here, Earth, or sky, or sea, or plain; Little I know, and, nothing I care;

Never—to hear soft Vity's sighWhat to me--is the day, or night,

Never to gaze-on mortal eye; Surmer's heat, or autumn sere,

Doom'd-through life, if life it be, Spring-tide flowers, or winter's blight,

To helpless, hopeless misery; Pleasure's smile, or sorrow's tear?

Oh, if a single ray of light Time! what care I for thy flight,

Had pierced the gloom of this endless night; Joy! I spurn thee--with disdain;

If the cheerful tones of a single voice Nothing love 1-but this clanking chain;

Had made the depths of my heart rejoice; Once-I broke from its iron hold,

If a single thing had loved me here, Nothing I said, but silent, and bold,

I ne'er had crouch'd to these fiends' despair! Like the shepherd, that watches his gentle fold, Like the tiger, that crouches in mountain lair, They come again! They tear my brain! Hours upon hours, so watch'd I here;

They tumble, and dart through my every vein! Till one of the fiends, that had come to bring

Ho!' could I burst this clanking chain,
Herbs from the valley-and drink from the spring, Then might I spring in the hellish ring,
Stalk'd through my dungeon entrance in!

And scatter them back to their den again!
Ha ! how he shriek'd-to see me free
Ho! how he trembled, and knelt to me,

They seize my heart !--they choke my breath! He, who had mock'd me, many a day,

Death!-death! ah, welcome death !--R. M. C. And barred me out-from its cheerful ray,

It is a very poor, though common, preGods! how I shouted to see him pray!

tence to merit, to make it appear by the I wreath'd my hand-in the demon's hair,

faults of other men: a mean wit, or beauty, And chok'd his breath-in its mutter'd prayer, And danc'd I then, in wild delight,

may pass in a room, where the rest of the To see the trembling wretch's—fright.

company are allowed to have none: it is

something to sparkle among diamonds; but Gods! how I crush'd-his hated bones! 'Gainst the jagged wall, and the dungeon-stones; value worth the pretending.

to shine among pebbles, is neither credit nor And plungd my arm-adown his throat, And dragg'd to life-his beating heart,

BEST CURE FOR TROUBLE. And held it up, that I might gloat,

Ben Brisk-a philosopher was,
To see its quivering fibres start!

In the genuine sense of the word;
Ho! how I drank-of the purple flood,
Quaff’d-and quaff'd again, of blood,

And he held, that repining, whatever the cause,
Till my brain grew dark, and I knew no more, Was unmanly, and weak, and absurd.
Till I found myself on this dungeon floor,
Fetter'd, and held, by this iron chain;

When Mat Mope-was assaulted by Trouble, Ho! when I break its links again,

Though in morals--as pure as a vestal, Ha! when I break its links again,

He sigh'd, and exclaimed, “Life's a Bubble,”. Wo to the daughters and sons of men!

Then blew it away-with a pistol !
My frame is shrunk, and my soul is sad,
And devils mock, and call me mad;

Tom Tipple, when trouble intruded,
Many a dark-and fearful sight

And his fortune, and credit were sunk,
Haunts me here, in the gloom of night;

By a too common error deluded,
Mortal smile, or human tear
Never cheers, or soothes me here;

Drown'd Trouble, and made himself drunk The spider shrinks from my grasp away,

But Ben--had a way of his own,
Though he's known my form-for many a day;
The slimy toad, with his diamond eye,

When grievances--made im

uneasy ; Watches afar, but comes not nigh;

He bade the blue devils begone, The craven rat, with her filthy brood,

Braved Trouble, and made himself busy. Pilfers and gnaws-my scanty food: But when I strive to make her play,

When sorrow embitters our days, Snaps at my hands, and flees away ;

And poisons each source of enjoyment; Light of day-or ray of sun,

The surest specific, he says, Friend, or hope, I've none“I've none !

For Trouble, and Grief is- Employment




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