Soft as the gossamer in summer shades Extends its twinkling line from spray to spray, Gently as sleep the weary lids invades, So soft, so gently pleasure mines her way: But whither will the smiling fiend betray, Ah, let the knights approaching days declare! Though everie bloome and flowre of buxom May Bestrew her path, to deserts cold and bare The mazy path betrays the giddy wight unware.

"Ah!" says the wizard, "what may now availe
His manlie sense that fairest blossoms bore,
His temper gentle as the whispering gale,
His native goodnesse, and his vertuous lore!
Now through his veins, all uninflamd before,
Th' enchanted cup of dissipation hight

Has shedd, with subtil stealth, through everie pore, Its giddy poison, brewd with magicke might, Each budd of gentle worth and better thought to blight.

"So the Canadian, traind in drery wastes
To chase the foming bore and fallow deer,
At first the traders beverage shylie tastes ;
But soon with headlong rage, unfelt whyleare,
Inflamd he lusts for the delirious cheer:
So bursts the boy disdainful of restrent,
Headlong attonce into the wylde career
Of jollitie, with all his mind unbent,

And dull and yrksome hangs the day in sports unspent.

"Now fly the wassal seasons wingd with glee, Each day affords a floode of roring joy;

The springs green months ycharmd with cocking flee,

The jolly horce-race summers grand employ, His harvest sports the foxe and hare destroy; But the substantial comforts of the bowl Are thine, O Winter! thine to fire the boy With Englands cause, and swell his mightie soul, Till dizzy with his peres about the flore he rowl.

"Now round his dores ynaild on cloggs of wood Hang many a badgers snout and foxes tail, The which had he through many a hedge persewd, Through marsh, through meer, dyke, ditch, and [pale;

delve and dale;

To hear his hair-breadth scapes would make you
Which well the groome hight Patrick can relate,
Whileas on holidays he quaffs his ale;
And not one circumstance will he forgett,
So keen the braggard chorle is on his hunting sett.

"Now on the turf the knight with sparkling eyes
Beholds the springing racers sweep the ground;
Now lightlie by the post the foremost flies,
And thondring on, the rattling hoofs rebound;
The coursers groan, the cracking whips resound:
And gliding with the gale they rush along
Right to the stand. The knight stares wildly round,
And, rising on his sell, his jocund tongue
Is heard above the noise of all the noisie throng.

"While thus the knight persewd the shaddow joy,
As youthful spirits thoughtlesse led the way,
Her gilden baits, ah, gilded to decoy!
Kathrin did eve and morn before him lay,
Watchfull to please, and ever kindlie gay;
Till, like a thing bewitchd, the carelesse wight
Resigns himself to her capricious sway :
Then soon, perdie,was never charme-bound spright
In necromancers thrall in halfe such pitteous plight.

"Her end accomplishd, and her hopes at stay,
What need her now, she recks, one smyle bestow;
Each care to please were trouble thrown away,
And thriftlesse waste, with many maxims moe,
As, What were she the better did she so?
She conns, and freely sues her native bent;
Yet still can she to guard his thralldom know,
Though grimd with snuff in tawdrie gown she went,
Though peevish were her spleen and rude her
jolliment.

"As when the linnett hails the balmie morne,
And roving through the trees his mattin sings,
Lively with joy, till on a lucklesse thorne
He lights, where to his feet the birdlime elings;
Then all in vain he flapps his gaudie wings;
The more he flutters still the more foredone :
So fares it with the knight: each morning brings
His deeper thrall; ne can he brawling shun,
For Kathrin was his thorne and birdlime both
in one.

"Or, when atop the hoary western hill
The ruddie sunne appears to rest his chin,
When not a breeze disturbs the murmuring rill,!
And mildlie warm the falling dewes begin,
The gamesome trout then shows her silverie skin,
As wantonly beneath the wave she glides,
Watching the buzzing flies, that never blin, [sides,
Then, dropt with pearle and golde, displays her
While she with frequent leape the ruffled streame
divides.

"On the greene banck a truant schoolboy stands;
Well has the urchin markt her merry play,
An ashen rod obeys his guilefull hands,
And leads the mimick fly across her way;
Askaunce, with wistly look and coy delay,
The hungrie trout the glitteraund treachor eyes,
Semblaunt of life, with speckled wings so gay;
Then, slylie nibbling, prudish from it flies,
Till with a bouncing start she bites the truthless
prize.

"Ah, then the younker gives the fatefull twitch; Struck with amaze she feels the hook ypight Deepe in her gills, and, plonging where the beech Shaddows the poole, she runs in dred affright; In vain the deepest rock, her late delight, In vain the sedgy nook for help she tries ; The laughing elfe now curbs, now aids her flight, The more entangled still the more she flies, And soon amid the grass the panting captive lies.

"Where now, ah pity! where that sprightly play, That wanton bounding, and exulting joy, That lately welcomd the retourning ray, When by the rivlett bancks, with blushes coy, April walkd forth-ah! never more to toy In purling streame, she pants, she gasps, and dies! Aye me! how like the fortune of the boy, His days of revel and his nights of noise [prize. Have left him now, involvd, his lemmans hapless

"See now the changes that attend her sway; The parke where rural elegance had placd Her sweet retreat, where cunning art did play Her happiest freaks, that nature undefacd Receivd new charms; ah, see, how foul disgracd Now lies thilke parke so sweetlie wylde afore! Each grove and bowery walke be now laid waste; The bowling-greene has lost its shaven flore, And snowd with washing suds now yawns beside the dore.

"All round the borders where the pansie blue, Crocus, and polyanthus speckld fine, And daffodils in fayre confusion grew Emong the rose-bush roots and eglantine; These now their place to cabbages resign, And tawdrie pease supply the lilly's stead; Rough artichokes now bristle where the vine Its purple clusters round the windows spread, And laisie coucumbers on dung recline the head.

"The fragrant orchard, once the summers pride,
Where oft, by moonshine, on the daisied greene,
In jovial daunce, or tripping side by side,
Pomona and her buxom nymphs were seene;
Or, where the clear canal stretchd out atweene,
Deffly their locks with blossomes would they brede
Or, resting by the primrose hillocks sheene,
Beneath the apple boughs and walnut shade,
They sung their loves the while the fruitage gaily
spread:

"The fragrant orchard at her dire command
In all the pride of blossome strewd the plain;
The hillocks gently rising through the land
Must now no trace of natures steps retain ;
The clear canal, the mirrour of the swain,
And bluish lake no more adorn the greene,
Two durty watering ponds alone remain;
And where the moss-floord filbert bowres had
beene,

Is now a turnip-field and cow-yarde nothing cleane.

"An auncient crone, yclepd by housewives Thrift, All this devisd for trim oeconomie ; But certes ever from her birth bereft Of elegance, ill fitts her title high: Coarse were her looks, yet smoothe her courtesie, Hoyden her shapes, but grave was her attyre, And ever fixt on trifles was her eye; And still she plodden round the kitchen fyre, To save the smallest crombe her pleasure and desyre.

Bow-bent with eld, her steps were soft and slow, Fast at her side a bounch of keys yhong, Dull care sat brooding on her jealous brow, Sagacious proverbs dropping from her tongue : Yet sparing though she beene her guests emong, Ought by herself that she mote gormondise, The foul curmudgeon would have that ere long, And hardly could her witt her gust suffice; Albee in varied stream, still was it covetise.

"Dear was the kindlie love which Kathrin bore
This crooked ronion, for in soothly guise
She was her genius and her counsellor :
Now cleanly milking-pails in careful wise
Bedeck each room, and much can she despise [ill:
The knights complaints, and thriftlesse judgment
Eke versd in sales, right wondrous cheap she buys,
Parlour and bedroom too her bargains fill;
Though uselesse, cheap they beene, and cheap she
purchasd still.

"His tenants whilom been of thriftie kind,
Did like to sing and worken all the day,
At seedtime never were they left behind,
And at the harvest feast still first did play;
And ever at the terme their rents did pay,
For well they knew to guide their rural geer:
All in a row, yclad in homespun gray,

They marchd to church each Sunday of the year, Their imps yode on afore, the carles brought up the rear.

"Ah, happy days! but now no longer found: No more with social hospitable glee The village hearths at Christmas tide resound, No more the Whitsun gamboll may you see, Nor morrice daunce, nor May daye jollitie, When the blythe maydens foot the deawy green ; But now, in place, heart-sinking penurie And hopelesse care on every face is seen, As these the drery times of curfeu bell had been.

"For everie while, with thief-like lounging pace, And dark of look, a tawdrie villain came, Muttering some words with serious-meaning face, And on the church dore he would fix their name: Then, nolens volens, they must heed the same, And quight those fieldes their yeomen grandsires plowd

Eer since black Edwards days, when, crownd

with fame,

From Cressie field the knights old grandsire prowd Led home his yeomandrie, and each his glebe allowd.

"But now the orphan sees his harvest fielde Beneath the gripe of laws stern rapine fall, The friendlesse widow, from her hearth expelld, Withdraws to some poor hutt with earthen wall: And these, perdie, were Kathrins projects all; For, sooth to tell, grievd was the knight full sore Such sinful deeds to see: yet such his thrall, Though he had pledgd his troth, yet nathemore It mote he keep, except she willd the same before.

"Oh wondrous powre of womans wily art, What for thy witchcraft too secure may be ! Not Circes cup may so transform the heart, Or bend the will, fallacious powre, like thee; Lo manly sense, of princely dignitie, Witchd by thy spells, thy crowching slave is seen; Lo, high-browd honour bends the groveling knee, And every bravest virtue, sooth I ween, Seems like a blighted flowre of dank unlovely mien.

"Ne may grim Saracene, nor Tartar man, Such ruthless bondage on his slave impose, As Kathrin on the knight full deffly can: Ne may the knight escape, or cure his woes: As he who dreams he climbs some mountains brows, With painful struggling up the steep height strains, Anxious he pants and toils, but strength foregoes His feeble limbs, and not a step he gains; So toils the powerlesse knight beneath his servile chains.

"His lawyer now assumes the guardians place;
Learnd was thilk clerk in deeds, and passing slie;
Slow was his speeche, and solemn was his face
As that grave bird which Athens rankt so high ;
Pleased Dullness basking in his glossie eye,
The smyle would oft steal through his native phlegm;
And well he guards syr Martyns propertie,
Till not one peasant dares invade the game;
But certes, seven yeares rent was soon his own just
claim.

"Now mortgage follows mortgage; cold delay
Still yawns on everie long-depending case.
The knights gay bloome the while slid fast away;
Kathrin the while brought bantling imps apace;
While everie day renews his vile disgrace,
And straitens still the more his galling thrall:
See now what scenes his household hours debase,
And rise successive in his cheerlesse hall."

"See, while his friend entreats and urges still,
See, how with sidelong glaunce and haviour shy
He steals the look to read his lemmans will,
Watchful the dawn of an assent to spy.
Look as he will, yet will she not comply.
His friend with scorn beholds his awkward pain;
From him even pity turns her tear-dewd eye.
And hardlie can the bursting laugh restrain,
While manlie honour frowns on his unmanly stain.

"Let other scenes now rise," the wizard said:
He wavd his hand, and other scenes arose.
"See there," quoth he, “the knight supinely laid
Invokes the household houres of learnd repose:
An auncient song its manly joys bestows:
The melting passion of the nutt-brown mayde
Glides through his breast; his wandering fancy
Till into wildest reveries betrayd, [glows

He hears th' imagind faire, and wooes the lovely shade.

"Transported he repeats her constant vow,
How to the green wode shade, betide whateer,
She with her banishd love would fearlesse goe,
And sweet would be with him the hardest cheer.
'O,Heaven!' he sighs, 'what blessings dwell sincere
In love like this !'-But instant as he sighd,
Bursting into the room, loud in his ear
His lemman thonders, Ah ! fell dole betide
The girl that trusts in man before she bees his bride!

"And must some lemman of a whiffling song
Delight your fancy? she disdainful cries;
When straight her imps all brawling round her
throng,

And, bleard with teares, each for revenge applies:
Him chiefe in spleene the father means chastise,
But from his kindlie hand she saves him still;
Yet for no fault, anon, in furious wise
Yon yellow elfe she little spares to kill;

"See," quoth the wizard," how with foltering mien,
And discomposd, yon stranger he receives;
Lo, how with sulkie look, and moapt with spleen,
His frowning mistresse to his friend behaves;
In vain he nods, in vain his hand he waves,
Ne will she heed, ne will she sign obay;
Nor corner dark his awkward blushes saves,
Ne may the hearty laugh, ne features gay :
The hearty laugh, perdie, does but his pain
betray.

"A worthy wight his friend was ever known,
Some generous cause did still his lips inspire;
He begs the knight by friendships long agone
To shelter from his lawyers cruel ire

An auncient hinde, around whose cheerlesse fire Sat grief, and pale disease. The poor mans wrong Affects the knight: his inmost harts desire Gleams through his eyes; yet all confusd, and stung With inward pain, he looks, and silence guards his tongue.

born will.

NATHANIEL COTTON was a physician, who paid particular attention to the subject of mental disorders; and kept a receptacle for insane patients

at St. Albans. Cowper was for some time under his care.

DEAR Chloe, while the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Though singularity and pride

Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside,
Nor join the giddy dance.

From the gay world we'll oft retire
To our own family and fire,

Where love our hours employs ;
No noisy neighbour enters here,
No intermeddling stranger near,
To spoil our heartfelt joys.
If solid happiness we prize,
Within our breast this jewel lies,
And they are fools who roam;
The world hath nothing to bestow,
From our own selves our bliss must flow,

And that dear hut our home.

Of rest was Noah's dove bereft,
When with impatient wing she left

That safe retreat, the ark;
Giving her vain excursions o'er,
The disappointed bird once more
Explored the sacred bark.

Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers,
We, who improve his golden hours,

By sweet experience know,
That marriage, rightly understood,
Gives to the tender and the good
A paradise below.

Our babes shall richest comforts bring;
If tutor❜d right they'll prove a spring

Whence pleasures ever rise;

We'll form their minds with studious care,
To all that's manly, good, and fair,
And train them for the skies.

While they our wisest hours engage,
They'll joy our youth, support our age,
And crown our hoary hairs;
They'll grow in virtue every day,
And they our fondest loves repay,
And recompense our cares.

[*" Cotton's well-known stanzas entitled The Fireside, still hold and are likely to retain a place in popular selections."-SOUTHEY, Life of Cowper, vol. i. p. 148.

No borrow'd joys! they're all our own,
While to the world we live unknown,

Or by the world forgot :
Monarchs! we envy not your state,
We look with pity on the great,
And bless our humble lot.

Our portion is not large, indeed,
But then how little do we need,

For nature's calls are few!
In this the art of living lies,
To want no more than may suffice,
And make that little do.

We'll therefore relish with content,
Whate'er kind Providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our power;
For, if our stock be very small,
"Tis prudence to enjoy it all,

Nor lose the present hour.

To be resign'd when ills betide,
Patient when favours are denied,

And pleased with favours given ;
Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part,
This is that incense of the heart,

Whose fragrance smells to heaven. We'll ask no long protracted treat, Since winter-life is seldom sweet;

But when our feast is o'er, Grateful from table we'll arise, Nor grudge our sons, with envious eyes, The relics of our store.

Thus hand in hand through life we'll go ; Its checker'd paths of joy and woe

With cautious steps we'll tread; Quit its vain scenes without a tear, Without a trouble, or a fear,

Aud mingle with the dead.

While conscience like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,
And cheer our dying breath;
Shall, when all other comforts cease,
Like a kind angel whisper peace,

And smooth the bed of death.

A poem like this, which depends altogether upon its truthfulness, should have nothing to do with Chloe or with Hymen.]

Or this American poet I am sorry to be able to give the British reader no account. I believe

his personal history is as little known as his poetry on this side of the Atlantic.

MID countless warriors Irad's limbs were spread,
Even there distinguish'd from the vulgar dead :
Fair as the spring, and bright as rising day,
His snowy bosom open'd as he lay :
From the deep wound a little stream of blood
In silence fell, and on the javelin glow'd.
Grim Jabin, frowning o'er his hapless head,
Deep in his bosom plunged the cruel blade;
Foes even in death his vengeance ne'er forgave,
But hail'd their doom insatiate as the grave;
No worth, no bravery, could his rage disarm,
Nor smiling love could melt, nor beauty warm.

But now th' approaching clarions' dreadful sound
Denounces flight, and shakes the banner'd ground.
From clouded plains increasing thunders rise,
And drifted volumes roll along the skies;
At once the chief commands th' unnumber'd throng,
Like gathering tempests darkly pour'd along;
High on the winds, unfurl'd in purple pride,
The imperial standard cast the view aside;
A hero there sublimely seem'd to stand,
To point the conquest, and the flight command;
In arms of burnish'd gold the warrior shone,
And waved and brighten'd in the falling sun.

But now sublime, in crimson triumph borne,
The sacred standard mock'd th' etherial morn;
Wide on the winds its waving splendours flow'd,
And call'd the warriors from the distant wood.
Behind great Joshua, Hazor's sons to dare,
Pour the bold thousands to the western war;
Beyond Ai's wall the less'ning heathen train
In well-form'd squadrons cross the distant plain;
Part still in sight their shady files extend,
Part fill the wood, and part the hills ascend;
To cease from toil the prudent chief commands,
And balmy quiet soothes the wearied bands.

Half lost in mountain groves the sun's broad ray
Shower'd a full splendour round his evening way.
Slow Joshua strode the lovely youth to find,
Th' unwilling bands more slowly moved behind.
Soon as the matchless form arose to view,
O'er their sad faces shone the sorrowing dew:

Silent they stood; to speak the leader tried, But the choked accents on his palate died— His bleeding bosom beat.

"Ah! best and bravest of thy race," he said, And gently raised the pale reclining head, "Lost are thy matchless charms; thy glory gone, Gone is the glory which thy hand hath won. In vain on thee thy nation cast her eyes, In vain with joy beheld thy light arise, In vain she wish'd thy sceptre to obey."

Borne by six chiefs, in silence o'er the plain,
Fair Irad moved; before the mournful train
Great Joshua's arm sustain'd his sword and shield, |
Th' affected thousands length'ning through the field;
When, crown'd with flow'rs, the maidens at her side,
With gentle steps advanced great Caleb's pride;
Her snowy hand, inspired by restless love,
Of the lone wild-rose two rich wreaths inwove,
Fresh in her hands the flowers rejoiced to bloom,
And round the fair one shed a mild perfume.
O'er all the train her active glances roved,
She gazed, and gazing miss'd the youth she loved.
Some dire mischance her boding heart divined,
And thronging terrors fill'd her anxious mind.
As near the host her quick'ning footsteps drew,
The breathless hero met her trembling view!
From her chill'd hand the headlong roses fell,
And life's gay beauty bade her cheeks farewell,
And sunk to earth.

With anguish Caleb saw her faded charms,
And caught the favourite in his hast'ning arms.
Revived, with piercing voice that froze his soul,
She forced the big round tear unwish'd to roll:
By all his love besought him soon to lead
Where cruel friendship snatch'd the lovely dead.
In vain the chief his anguish strove to hide,
Sighs rent his breast and chill'd the vital tide.

To Joshua then, whose heart beside her mourn'd, With gaze of keen distress the charmer turn'd. "Oh! generous chief, to misery ever kind, Thou lovest my sire-support his sinking mind.