TO JULIA.

Aн me! with what ardour I lov'd the delusion
Where Fancy mid scenes of futurity rov'd;
And the falter of language and blush of confusion
Betray'd the kind wishes of her whom I lov'd.

At length I possess'd the vain fugitive hour,

So wish'd for to close my pursuit and my care; Smiles of favour secede to the stern frown of power, She listen'd, disdain'd, and condemn'd to despair.

Farewell the sweet hope that still whisper'd to-morrow, To-morrow shall silence those doubtings and fears; With the winds thou shalt mingle the breath of thy

sorrow,

And lose in the stream of oblivion thy tears.

Farewell the sweet interest, enhancing our pleasure, And softening the cares we are destin'd to know! Farewell ye gay revels-ah! dear beyond measure, Though nought ye have left but remembrance and woe!

Unheeded the seasons distribute their power,

A stranger to life I exist but to mourn;
I feel not the biting of Winter's sharp hour,
And vainly the beauties of Nature return!

S.

SONG,

BY GEORGE CANNING, ESQ.

Ir hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep, The sky if no longer dark tempests deform; When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep? No-here's to the Pilot that weather'd the storm.

At the footstool of Power let Flattery fawn;
Let Faction her idols extol to the skies;
To Virtue, in humble retirement withdrawn,
Unblam'd may the accents of gratitude rise.

And shall not HIS memory to Britain be dear,
Whose example with envy all nations behold,
A statesman, unbiass'd by interest or fear,

By power uncorrupted, untainted by gold?

Who, when Terror and Doubt through the universe reign'd,

While Rapine and Treason their standards unfurl'd, The heart and the hopes of his Country maintain'd, And one kingdom preserv'd midst the wreck of the world.

Unheeding, unthankful, we bask in the blaze,

While the beams of the Sun in full majesty shine: When he sinks into twilight, with fondness we gaze, And mark the mild lustre that gilds his decline.

So PITT, when the course of thy greatness is o'er,
Thy talents, thy virtues, we fondly recall!
Now justly we prize thee, when lost we deplore;.
Admir'd in thy zenith, but lov'd in thy fall!

O! take, then-for dangers by wisdom repell'd,
For evils by courage and constancy brav'd—
O! take, for a Throne by thy counsels upheld,

The thanks of a people thy firmness has sav'd!

And Oh! if again the rude whirlwind should rise, The dawning of Peace should fresh darkness deform, The regrets of the good, and the fears of the wise, Shall turn to the Pilot that weather'd the storm!

FROM THE SPANISH OF LUPERCIO.

CONTENT with what I am, the sounding names
Of glory tempt not me; nor is there ought
In glittering grandeur that provokes one wish
Beyond my peaceful state. What tho' I boast
No trapping that the multitude adores
In common with the great; enough for me
That naked, like the mighty of the earth,
I came into the world, and that like them
I must descend into the grave, the house
For all appointed; for the space between,
What more of happiness have I to seek
Than that dear woman's love, whose truth I know,
And whose fond heart is satisfied with me?

T. Y.

ELINOR, THE CONVICT.

BY MR. DIMOND, JUN.

THE anchor weigh'd, the swelling sails were spread,
And England's parting shores fled fast from view,
When Elinor, the Convict, rais'd her head,

And breath'd her soul into a last adieu.

"Ye white cliffs of Albion, that fade on the skies,
How fair do ye seem to the outcast's dim eyes,
The sinful one, banish'd for ever!

The sands too, beneath you, look goldenly bright,
And precious seems each little grain to her sight,
Whose steps shall revisit them never!

"Ah! dear native country, though destin'd to part, Still long your pure scenes of delight in my heart, Yea! long will poor Elinor cherish;

Your remembrance shall make her day's bondage more
light,

In dreams shall restore her to freedom at night,
And only with life itself perish.

"Yes! lov'd land of freedom! the poor toiling slave,
Though sunder'd afar by the measureless wave,
Shall feel with your children connected!
And boast of her birth, as in days of fair fame,
Ere yet, for its sinfulness, Elinor's name
From the lists of the good was rejected.

"The land sinks apace, and the day-light decays,
Ah! how blest will be they, whom yon setting sun's

rays

Shall smile on in England to-morrow!

But, alas! for the convict! light will not restore
To her longing eyes her belov'd native shore,
She from fancy her England must borrow.

"Now faster and faster the flying coasts fade, Each instant fresh objects dissolve into shadeGaze!—Gaze!-O ye eyes that are banish'd. The town, with its buildings, the ships in the bay, The steeple, the light-house,-all, all melt away,And now the last headland has vanish'd!

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Strain, strain, balls of sight, your faint faculties strain,

And something of England still strive to retain!

No-tears gush and drown the endeavour!

Nay, throb not so wildly, thou poor, breaking heart— Home! kindred! and friends! soul and body now

part,

Farewell native country for ever!

VOL. II.