Living or dead.-When last we heard of him, He was in slavery among the Moors on the Barbary coast.-'Twas not a little That would bring down his spirit; and no doubt, Eefore it ended in his death, the Youth Was sadly crossed.-Poor Leonard! when we parted, He took me by the hand, and said to me, Leonard. If that day grown men ! Priest. Ay, Sir, that passed away: we took him to us; fle was the child of all the dale-he lived Three months with one, and six months with another; And wanted neither food, nor clothes, nor love: And many, many happy days were his. nt, whether blithe or sad, 'tis my belief is absent Brother still was at his heart. And, when he dwelt beneath our roof, we found A practice till this time unknown to him) That often, rising from his bed at night, He in his sleep would walk about, and sleeping He sought his brother Leonard.-You are moved! Forgive me, Sir: before I spoke to you, But this Youth, How did he die at last? Priest. One sweet May-morning, (It will be twelve years since when Spring returns) He had gone forth among the new-dropped lambs, With two or three companions, whom their course Of occupation led from height to height Upon its aëry summit crowned with heath," The loiterer, not unnoticed by his comrades, Lay stretched at ease; but, passing by the place On their return, they found that he was gone. No ill was feared; till one of them by chance Entering, when evening was far spent, the house Which at that time was James's home, there learned That nobody had seen him al! that day: The morning came, and still he was unheard of: The neighbours were alarmed, and to the brook Some hastened: some ran to the lake: ere noon They found him at the foot of that same rock Dead, and with mangled limbs. The third day after I buried him, poor Youth, and there he lies! Leonard. And that then is his grave!-Before his death You say that he saw many happy years? Leonard. And all went well with him? Priest. If he had one, the youth had twenty homes. less fortune, He talked about him with a cheerful love. Leonard. He could not come to an unhallowed end! Priest. Nay, God forbid !-You recollect I mentioned A habit which disquietude and grief He there had fallen asleep; that in his sleep Had walked, and from the summit had fallen headlong: And so no doubt he perished. When the Youth Fell, in his hand he must have grasp'd, we think, His shepherd's staff; for on that Pillar of rock It had been caught midway; and there for And Leonard, when they reached the church- As the Priest lifted up the latch, turned round,-- The Vicar did not hear the words: and now, That Leonard would partake his homely fare: The other thanked him with an earnest voice." THE But added, that, the evening being calm, He would pursue his journey. So they parted. It was not long ere Leonard reached a grove That overhung the road: he there stopped short, And, sitting down beneath the trees, reviewed And thoughts which had been his an hour before, He travelled back to Egremont: and thence, And adding, with a hope to be forgiven, That it was from the weakness of his heart He had not dared to tell him who he was. This done, he went on shipboard, and is now A Seaman, a grey-headed Mariner. 1800. II. ARTEGAL AND ELIDURE. (SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY OF MON- To fatal dissolution; and, I ween, And Albion's giants quelled, A brood whom no civility could melt, By brave Corineus aided, he subdued, And pleasure's sumptuous bowers; Whence all the fixed delights of house and home, Friendships that will not break, and love that cannot roam. O, happy Britain! region all too fair Hence, and how soon! that war of vengeance waged By Guendolen against her faithless lord; Had slain his paramour with ruthless sword: She flung her blameless child, So speaks the Chronicle, and tells of Lear Nor can the winds restore his simple gift. And he, recovering sense, upon her breast Which yet he brandishes for future war, star! What wonder, then, if in such ample field Now, gentle Muses, your assistance grant, That, wanting not wild grace, are from all mischief free! A KING more worthy of respect and love Than wise Gorbonian ruled not in his day; And grateful Britain prospered far above All neighbouring countries through his righteous sway; He poured rewards and honours on the good; The oppressor he withstood; And while he served the Gods with reverence due Fields smiled, and temples rose, and towns and cities grew. He died, whom Artegal succeeds-his son; From realm to realm the humbled Exile went, And, tired with slights his pride no more could brook, He towards his native country cast a longing How changed from him who, born to highest | Were this same spear, which in my hand I place, Had swayed the royal mace, Flattered and feared, despised yet deified, In Troynovant, his seat by silver Thames's side! From that wild region where the crownless King Lay in concealment with his scanty train, Supporting life by water from the spring, And such chance food as outlaws can obtain, Unto the few whom he esteems his friends A messenger he sends; And from their secret loyalty requires Shelter and daily bread,-the sum of his desires. While he the issue waits, at early morn Wandering by stealth abroad, he chanced to hear A startling outcry made by hound and horn, From which the tusky wild boar flies in fear : And, scouring toward him o'er the grassy plain, Behold the hunter train! He bids his little company advance grasp, The British sceptre, here would I to thee While thou art roving, wretched and forlorn, Thy couch the dewy earth, thy roof the forest thorn!" Then Artegal thus spake: "I only sought Full soon this generous purpose thou may'st rue, undo. Who, when a crown is fixed upon his head, With seeming unconcern and steady counte- Would balance claim with claim, and right with nance. The royal Elidure, who leads the chase, Hath checked his foaming courser :-can it be ! "It is the king, my brother!" and, by sound Of his own voice confirmed, he leaps upon the ground. right? But thou-I know not how inspired, how ledWouldst change the course of things in all men's sight! And this for one who cannot imitate For, if, by such strange sacrifice restored, Lifted in magnanimity above Long, strict, and tender was the embrace he Aught that my feeble nature could perform, gave, Feebly returned by daunted Artegal ;. The attendant lords withdrew; 'By heavenly Powers conducted, we have met; -O Brother! to my knowledge lost so long, But neither lost to love, nor to regret, Nor to my wishes lost-forgive the wrong, (Such it may seem) if I thy crown have borne, Thy royal mantle worn: I was their natural guardian; and 'tis just A while the astonished Artegal stood mute, Then, on the wide-spread wings This will I here avow, not dreading thy despite." At this blest moment led me, if I speak wreak! Or even conceive; surpassing me in love A shadow in a hated land, while all |