To perfect calm are softened.
See how the sea-bird floateth-
See how the cranes are parting—
Full-faced the sun is shining.
Now cleave the clouds asunder,
And dapple earth with shadows;
Now fields and flocks look fairest.
Now bursts the earth with plenty;
Now buds the fruitful olive.

IL LOVE AND THE BEE.

Young love once in the roses
A bee asleep among them
Espied not, and it stung him.
The sting was on his finger,
And loudly did he bellow.

Part running and part flying,
He sought the fair Cythera.

'O mother, I have perished,'

He cried,' and nought can save me;
'A little winged serpent
'Hath stung me in the finger-
'A bee, the rustics call it.'

She answered,' If the stinging 'Of this small insect pain thee,

'How much, think'st thou, do they bear, 'Whom thine own darts have smitten?

III. THE PRAISES OF THE ROSE.

While the spring is scattering garlands,
I will praise the rose of summer:
Come, my friends, and help me praise it.
"Tis a heavenly exhalation,

Filling mortals with rejoicing;
"Tis the darling of the Graces,

In the months when Love is blooming; "Tis the God of Love's own plaything.

"Tis, besides, the theme of Poets, "Tis the plant the muses honour:— Sweet it is to pluck it, even

When the thorns are thick around it;

Sweet it is to take and cherish

In the hand its gathered blossoms,
Calling out its sleeping fragrance.

Sweet it is in balls and banquets,

Sweet in sacrifice and triumph.

What without the rose can please us?

Rosy-fingered is the morning,

Rosy-armed the Nymphs and Graces,
Rosy-fair is Aphrodita,

In the songs of ancient poets.

Roses with his healing conserve
Mingles in the wise physician;
Roses strew we o'er the relics
Of the dear ones that have left us.
Time this flower alone can conquer;
For its blossoms, e'en when faded,
Part not with their first fresh odour.
Come, my friend, and I will tell you
Whence its birth. What time the ocean

Bore the youthful Aphrodita
Spray-besprinkled, from its surface,

And what time the warrior goddess
Sprung all armed, from the great Father,
Filling heaven with joy and wonder:
Then the earth, the first and fairest
Of her children, bore the roses.

For the blessed heavenly conclave
Sprinkled down rare drops of nectar,
And where'er the earth received them,
Thick and sweet, on thorny branches,
Sprung the roses, flowers of pleasaunce.

Thus far for fragmentary lore. Many and beautiful are the smaller poems of Grecian bards, strewed thick over many a page of ancient common-place-books and anthologies. To these we shall devote one chapter or more, hereafter.

Meantime, reader, if those precious relics of beauty have not gladdened thee, and made thy poetic heart leap within thee, let not the blame rest with these old songsters, who are thus feebly and ill represented :-judge not the statue by the chip that remains ;—no, nor blame our Miscellany itself, every page of which is filled for thy delight and profit; blame not these Chapters on Poetry and Poets, which first have attempted to unlock the treasures of ancient song to the heart of the English people, so that the mechanic and the cottager may see the beauty of which he knew not, and rejoice-but blame the inadequacy of the translator, and of the words which he was constrained to employ; and remember an ancient ditty of our own, itself not less beautiful than these lays of elder times, which says,

That 'violets plucked the sweetest showers
Can ne'er make grow again.'

N.B. Our next chapter will be On the Grecian Drama :- -Eschylus.

Sonnet.

TO THE EARLIEST VIOLET.

WHY dost thou not make haste, sweet violet?
I grow impatient of thy long delay,

And watch this sunny bank day after day,
Like some lone anxious maid, watching if yet
The bark comes o'er the main, which is to set
Her lover free upon his native shore;
So anxiously I watch;-not as of yore,
With that fair hand which I can ne'er forget
Clasped tenderly in mine;-I come alone,
And in much sorrow now, to seek for thee;
That form which made my life's sweet poetry,
Is from this world of disappointment gone,
And few things I can love are left to me;
Why dost thou then delay, O tardy one?
Sneinton.

SIDNEY GILES.

ON BEING PRESENTED BY A LADY WITH A BOUQUET OF WAY FLOWERS.

THIS blushing rose, whose beauteous tint

Is so divinely fair,

Bespeaks the perfect skill of her

Who formed a thing so rare.

For ev'ry part to nature true,
Like her attracts the eye,

And fills the admirer's ravish'd view
With charms which cannot die.

Nature's sweet rose will fade full soon
And leave no trace behind,
But this shall live in lasting bloom

In memory's tomb enshrin'd.

The primrose too shall live for aye,
Companion of the rose,

And tho' nor rose, nor primrose may
A fragrance sweet disclose,

Yet both in beauty strongly vie

With nature's form sublime,

Nor yield in aught save rich perfume
To hers in all their prime.

Nottingham, 1839.

E.

FLOATING REMEMBRANCES.

BY

THE OLD SAILOR.

No 5.

SOME of my readers may very naturally entertain a desire to know what became of Jein Collins -He was discharged from the frigate into the Cæsar, carrying the flag of Rear Admiral Sir James Saumarez; and I had a lingering recollection that he subsequently performed some gallant action, the nature of which, however, I could not recal to memory. A few days back, on looking over a naval periodical, published more than thirty years ago, I accidently stumbled on the following, which I give

verbatim.

"Anecdote of the Gallantry of a British Seaman. In the very spirited, though unsuccessful attack, on Admiral Linois' squadron, in the Bay of Algesiras, the 15th of July, 1801, the heavy fire the Cæsar had sustained had rendered every boat perfectly useless. Rear Admiral Sir J. Saumarez deeming it necessary to send some particular orders of great consequence (in the then state of the action, and the perilous situation of the Hannibal of seventy-four guns, Captain S. Ferris on shore, and very much exposed to a raking fire of shot and shells from Linois' squadron and the batteries at Algesiras, manned by French artillerymen, without her being able to bring a gun to bear) to the Venerable of seventyfour guns, Captain S. Hood, he went to the railing of the quarter deck and asked who could swim? A young seaman, named James Collins, of the admiral's barge's crew, immediately ran up the ladder, and answered, he could very well. He immediately stripped, took the orders in his mouth went over the side, and actually swam to the Venerable, then fifty yards off, delivered the orders to Captain S. Hood, took the answer in his mouth, and accomplished his return to the Cæsar in about forty-nine minutes, to the astonishment of every person on board. The sea was literally splashed with shot and shells during the time Collins was swimming to and from the Venerable. His name is deserving a place in the annals of British seamens' daring intrepidity in the hour of danger."

I have no doubt that this is the same Jem Collins-but what became of him afterwards, I do not know-though it is by no means improbable that he obtained a warrant as gunner or boatswain of one of his Majesty's ships. As for Dick Wills, he spent his last days in Greenwich.

I recollect an incident that occurred in the Barfleur 98 when under the command of the late Sir Joseph Yorke. The people of the Triumph

74 had been longer together than any ship's company in the service— they were nearly the whole of them able seamen, and she was quite a favourite in the fleet. Sir Joseph Yorke had also commanded this ship before he had the Barfleur, and whether knowing the character of the old Triumph, and being desirous of getting some of them in his new command (the 98 having been re-commissioned,) or whether it was the opinion of the admiralty that so many fine fellows were unnecessary in one ship, whilst the diffusion over many would be of the utmost advantage, perhaps the mutiny had some influence, but, whatever was the cause -the Triumph was paid off, and her crew by separate drafts of from twenty to a hundred were divided amongst the fleet-the Barfleur getting by far the largest portion. One of these latter was a quarter-master, named Bartlett--a Dane by birth, his native place being Copenhagen, but from early childhood he had served in the British navy.

Whilst lying at Spithead, Harry Bartlett received letters from Denmark stating that some property left by his family had fallen to him, and a handsome remittance had been forwarded to Portsmouth for present use. He obtained leave, went on shore, and returned flush with money; and as good fortune seldom comes single-handed, he exhibited a letter from an old commander, informing him that application had been made to procure him a boatswain's warrant. Harry was very much esteemed by his old shipmates, and he was not slack in sharing out his good fortune amongst them, whilst the news of his expected appointment was industriously circulated amongst the officers, and he was warmly congratulated on his prospects of promotion. Several days passed away, and at length down came an order for Bartlett to go on shore and take up his warrant for a sloop of war that was then round at Plymouth, to which place he was to make all haste to join. The order was shown to the first lieutenant-Harry was granted liberty for twenty-four hours-at the expiration of which time, he not only returned on board with his warrant, but he had shifted his sailor's jacket and trowsers for a full suit of long togs, and appeared in boatswain's uniform.

Bartlett presented his warrant to the first lieutenant, who ordered Harry's discharge to be made out, and the officers generally expressed their gratification at his success. At this moment, Sir Joseph Yorke came out of his cabin, and the new-made boatswain promptly uncovered his head, whilst in such august presence.

"Well, my man," said Sir Joseph, in his usual deliberative manner, "and so it has pleased the powers aloft to reward your deserts, and you are now a warrant officer."

"Yes, yer honor," returned Harry, who had not been long enough in uniform to change his mode of address, "they've made me a boasun, yer honor."

"It affords me pleasure to hear it, my man," rejoined Sir Joseph; “I wish I could see the principle more generally carried out.”