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Can the most favoured son of song,

That ever waked the loftiest lyre,
Mingle amid the restless throng,
Yet keep undimmed the sacred fire ?

Ask him—the Priest of all the Nine!'
He left this vale—the world he sought-

She hailed him with her honied breath,
Till in her gilded fetters caught,
He found her paths were paths of death;

If Dryden fell—what hope were thine !
No! like the nightingale and flower,

In Neve's sequestered verdant glade,
Contented pass thy mortal hour,
In calm retirement's modest shade!

Enough for thee to sing unknowi,
If, like the bird, thy lay can spread,

A soothing influence o'er the mind,
Or, like the Power, in secret shed
A balm--the mourner's wounds to bind,

Thy proudest hope is then thine own!
Aldwincle Rectory, April 7th, 1826.

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Fair was thy thread of life, thou gentle maid,
But quickly by the envious sisters shorn;

Even as the rose-bud from its stem

Is cropped-to bloom no more !
And, like that floweret too—which though it fade,
Preserves a vestige of its former worth,

Is fragrant in decay,

And odorous in death;
So, though on earth thy form no more can wear
The wonted semblance of its winning grace,

Yet, shall thy virtues live,

And Time's rude hand defy.
Vanished are now thy flattering dreams of bliss ;
Alike insensible to joy or pain,

A dreamless sleep thou sleep'st

Thy bed—the cold, damp grave!
Well may we envy thee that peaceful rest,
Since ne'er again by human ills assailed,

Shall thy too yielding soul,
In fruitless sorrow pine!



How changed to me this glittering scene,

Since last I trod its winding maze;
Oh! why should sorrow intervene,

To blight the hopes of youthful days?
Amid this busy crowd I view,

No form, no face, I wish to see;
There's not in all this mirthful crew,

One eye-whose smile gives joy to me!


Those who have felt the icy chill,

That steals through all the trembling frame;
The throbbing pulse—the sick’ning thrill-

The bursting heart—the burning brain;
The listless apathy of mind,

The fever of the aching breast ;
The cold fixed brow, that looks resigned,

Yet only pines, and cannot rest.


The weary limbs, that taste not sleep,

But vainly turn, and court repose ;
The leaden eye, that cannot weep,

Whose sorrow freezes as it flows;
The total hopelessness of heart,

That fondly cherishes its grief;
And will not, from its anguish part-

That seeks not-wishes not relief.


Oh ! such alone can tell the pain,

The bosom feels, and ceases never ;
When Fate, unlinks the golden chain,

Which love had forg'd to last for ever!
No, other tie the soul can bind,

The world becomes a dreary void;
No future bliss can soothe the mind

That mourns o'er early hopes destroyed !

C. B. W.



The million flit as gay
As if created only like the fly,
That spreads his motley wings in the eye of noon,
To sport their season, and be seen no more.


The years which I passed in the nursery and the school-room are unworthy of mention, because a young lady's life can only be said to begin when she is introduced into society.

Mine did not commence until I was full seventeen; for I had left school a quarter of a year before I came out at the

Race Ball. If I live a hundred years, I shall never forget that night; it was the happiest of my life. For the first time, I had artificial flowers in my hair; and, though I have had handsomer dresses since, I don't believe I ever looked so well in them as I did that night in a plain book muslin over a white satin slip. The ball itself, too, was more delightful than any I have since attended; why, I never could make out, for none of my partners were very nice ones, and I did not perceive that any one admired me; to be sure, neither of these circumstances vexed me. Both frock and flowers have long since been worn out, but I keep them still, because they remind me how happy I was when they were new. When I first went into company, I was a little abashed at not being able to keep up a conversation with as much spirit as other young ladies, who, having had the advantage of finishing their education sooner, were acquainted with many things of which I was shamefully ignorant. By the end of my first winter I was, however, so much improved, that I could converse on any topic, in a manner that led no one to suspect I had been kept at school for more than seven years.

Though immediately on coming home I discontinued all my studies except music and dancing, I never worked half so hard whilst at Mrs. Le Grande's establishment. There was so much shopping to be done, so many calls to be made, and such continual alterations wanted in my dresses, in order to keep up with the fashion, and be at the same time economical, that, until I got into the way of it, I was almost fagged to death. In the course of time the novelty of this way of life wore off, and I began to grow tired of going over and over again to the same places, meeting the same people, hearing the same things, and, above all, of wearing the same dresses. There was no satisfaction either in living in a crowd of acquaintances,-and, as Captain B. beautifully expressed it, as we were promenading one evening at a brilliant assembly, I sighed for the intercourse of the heart.' He was an enchanting creature; drew, sung, danced, and made verses professionally well; always dressed three times a day, and had been slightly wounded at Waterloo. He introduced me to his sister; and, from that moment till he left to join his regiment abroad, she was my dearest, best, and most valued friend. After his departure a gradual shyness ensued, why, or how, I could never distinctly ascertain, but I do not think the fault was on my side. I was not much more fortunate in my next friendship. Matilda was a year younger than myself, but just my size; she was a sweet, natural, confiding creature, and for a long time we never had two opinions on any subject, or a thought that we did not share in common. We always dressed our heads alike, sat together at parties, wore each other's hair in a locket, and corresponded, though we lived in the same street. We were inseparables till she received an offer. I did not think it any thing to be proud of; but to be sure it was her first; and she was soon too much engrossed by wedding preparations to have any leisure for friendship. I was her bridesmaid, but we were never intimate afterwards. These disappointments gave me such an insight into the deceitfulness of the human heart, and the vanity of the world, that I determined to depend for the future on myself, and seek for happiness in intellectual resources. About that time I set up an Album. It was so splendidly bound that many persons thought it a sufficient gratification to look at the outside only. It is a very bad plan, however, to have Albums bound before they are filled; by the time mine had travelled to all my friends for contributions, the morocco and gilding were so tarnished that I had no pleasure in shewing the book. I was shockingly vexed, too, to see its white glossy pages so shamefully scrawled over; the poetry did not signify much, because no one read it; but every body observed the bad writing. I had nevertheless the pleasure of knowing that the book contained three gems; a sonnet, an elegy, and a serenade, all original; and the contribution of a young gentleman who was about to publish.

Amongst the important events of my life, I must not omit to mention à visit to London, and a journey to the Lakes. I name them together, because I scarcely know which was most delightful. I was enchanted with the Opera and Vauxhall, and so I was with the sublime solitudes of the North ; and if shopping all morning, and driving to two or more parties every evening, was real enjoyment, a moonlight sail on Windermere, with French horns and a cold collation, was truly agreeable. Both visits were highly beneficial, though, of course, in a different way. In London I gained a valuable insight into fashionable dress and deportment; while my rural excursion greatly enlarged my mind, and gave me that taste for the beauties of nature which I hope ever to preserve,

Soon after my return from London (solely with a view to my own instruction and amusement) I began to keep a kind of biographical diary, in which I regularly noted down engagements, observations on dress, good resolutions, &c. &c. I have found it very useful, on a birth-day or other stated period, to review these memorandums of the most interesting occurrences of the past year. I recommend all young ladies to follow my example; and, to put them in the way of keeping such a diary, I subjoin a copy of the last page of my own:

"To-day I am twenty-one ;-received a beautiful gold scent-box from my uncle, but begin to think it childish to mention my birth-day. According to my annual custom I have looked over my diary of the past year, and shall, as usual, sum up the principal occurrences from April 1, 1823, to April 1, 1824.

New Dresses. Three morning—two dinner-and four evening ones. Conquests. At the Y

Archery Meeting and at the 2- Institution for the Encouragement of the Arts. Offers. Useful Occupations. Kept up nine correspondences—learnt by heart all Moore's Melodies, and part of the Corsair—read every good novel-japanned a pair of hand screens -worked three flounces for a morning gown, and painted a trimming for a ball-frock, besides making a card pursè, and a pair of bead bracelets. Acquisitions. Set of mock pearl ornaments, scarcely - to be known from real ones-several new acquaintances, who merit the name of friends, all charming characters—the new set of quadrilles-many songs and the art of making artificial flowers. Parties. Number unknown-having neglected to set them down regularly; but reckoning all kinds, set, and friendly, certainly not fewer than four a week, besides company in the house. Every thing considered, I think I have no reason to be dissatisfied with the past year; if I have had much pleasure I have endeavoured to be industrious. Nevertheless, I mean to devote some attention to more serious pursuits; as I consider it the duty of every young woman, who is twentyone, to prepare herself, at all events, for the important office of a wife, and mistress of an establishment. I am determined to learn how to make all kinds of fancy confectionery; for nothing gives eclat to a party like an elegant supper-table. I shall take to mob-caps in a morning, and whenever I go out have a little knitting, or work of that kind in my reticule. I shall also read, with great attention, Gregory's Advice to his Daughters, particularly the part which speaks of the duties of the married life,-and, now and then, I purpose to look into a religious novel.”



The leopard's eye is full and bright,
And white are the tusks of the boar,
And yellow the sands when the orb of night
Shines lovely on the shore ;
But brighter still is Leila's eye,
And the pearl of her teeth more fair,
And the sands shine less to the gem of the sky
Than Leila's golden hair.
We climbed the mountain's lofty crest,
We gazed on the azure deep,
Smooth, smooth, said I, is the ocean's breast;
Oh, love me Leila, and mine shall rest
In as calm and as sweet a sleep.
Oh! to the thirsty soul 'tis dear
To meet in the wilds a spring ;
'Tis sweet when Mecca's echoes ring
On the way-worn pilgrim's ear;
But dearer, sweeter far to me,
O Leila, love, thy voice will be
That whispers I am thine for ever,
And, death itself shall part us never !


Translated from the Greek.
Go tell the Spartans, thou who passest by,
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie !

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