They have told me of sweet, purple hues of the west, (wide breast; of the wide tents that sparkle on ocean's They have told me of stars that are burning on high When the night is careering along the vast sky; But alas! there remains wheresoever I thee, Nor beauty, nor lustre, por brightness for me! But yet--to my lone, gloomy couch there is given A my to my heart that is kindled in heaven; It soothes this dark pach thro' this valley of tears, It enlivens my heart, and my sorrow it cheers, For it tells of a day when this night has past by, Where my spirit shall dwell in the fulness of joy! N. Y. 23 Sept. 1817. E. SIGNS OF LOVE, By Mrs. Barbauld. That boasts to love as well as me; I'll teach thee what it is to love It is to be all bathed in tears, To live upon a smile for years, To kneel, to languish, and implore, And still, tho' she disdain, adore: It is to do all this and think thy sufferings sweet. It is to gaze upon her eyes With eager joy and fond surprise, Yet tempered with such chaste and awful fear, As wretches feel, who wait their doom, Nor must one ruder thought presume, (ear. Though but in whispers breathed to meet her It is to hope, tho' hope were lost, Tho' Heav'n and Earth thy passion crost, Tho' she were bright as sainted Queens above, And thou the least and meanest swain It is to quench thy joy in tears, Tho' she were fonder and more true Than any nymphs old poets drew, Oh! never dream that thou hast loved. If any hopes thy bosom share But those which love has planted there; Or any cares but his thy breast enthral, Thou never yet his power hast known: Love sits on a despoue throne If, when the charming maid is gone, Thou dost not wish to be alone, To muse and cold thy languid arms, Nursing thy fancy in her charms, Now if thou art so lost a thing Here all thy tender sorrows bring, (dure, We'll prove whose patience longest shall en. We'll strive whose fancy shall be lost In dreams of fondest passions most, For if thou thus dost love, ob, never hope a cure. A Poetical Epistle to Lord Byron. against the noble wanderer, and has treated "hum with memorable and merited severity. We extract the following passage: Oh, 'tis an easy task, in verse to prate Of broken hearts, and bosoms desolate! And 'uis a thriving trade! iet Murray tell, What thou hast written and for bim-bow well, Would that each hungry wretch, dear Britain Could vend his misery, and impawn his groans, Could bring, like thee, his wretchedness for sale, Made up for use in pilgrimage and tale! And thus the Mendicant, protrudes to sight His mangled limb, our pity to excite; Lives on the real wounds acquird in wars, Or ferds and fattens on factitious scars. Oh, when thy muse prolific next supplies Her import vast, of marketable sighs, (spare, Somewhai, perchance, thy bounty then may For real sorrows and substantial care: Somen hat, self-exiled Misanthrope, for those Who have not found thus vendible their woes. To ask for country's sake were vain-and why? Her "shores can neither grieve nor glad thine eye."* Yet still proceed-still chant thy gloomy lays, Insult-retract-bespatter, and bepraise; Pour on the town in one continued tide, The dark o'erftowings of thy cynic pride; While every puling Miss the story greetsHugs to her breast these lordly, dear conceits. Her hours-her sorrows-and her tears resigns, To ruffian hordes, and wand'ring libertines, E'en the poor heart, unconscious of offence, Caught by a feeling-ardent and intenseHis finest, noblest sympathies affords To wandering libertines and ruffian hordles! Nor shall the muse one generous pang disdain, For powers perverted, or bestowed in vain And blush that he, around whose favoured head Her brightest halo, genius deigned to shed; That he-best gifted of the tunelul tbrong, With head and mind perversely warp'd to wrong; Should lend these powerful talents to impart The cheerless feelings of a sceptic's beart; A heart, in which no generous ire is seen Cold in its malice-causeless in its spleen: To trace the inoody workings of a mind, To heaven unjust, at variance with its kind: Yet though at every line a virtue bleedIndulge thy wayward humour-and proceed. What is this boast of “ shrouded thoughts," that dwell Withiring and dark within their secret cell? Where the “proud caution” of the struggling breast! Where is one bitter feeling unexpressed? When thou hast bar'd thy heart to every eye, Proclaim'd its heavings to the faintest sigh, The meanest reptile that has crossd thy path. Was crush'd beneath thy desolating wrathi: While gentler natures, and the softer mindHave bowed beneath a torture more retin'd That polished irony, whose art conceais Its sting, which but the victim sees and feels. Oh, to satiety bave we not read Of thy Jark sorrows, and thy " widow'd b* d.?" And thou hast nade iliy sport of others' pain, On wounded teelings gazd with cokl disilain; That unprovoked the random shatis or spleen, Debas'd ile high-and trampled on the meant Nor from envenumed words couldehy last strain, E'en in its burst of tenderness, refrain. Misguided spirit! yet in mercy spare, And, if thy heart be human-ob, forbear. . Cau mean suspicion, and unmanly wrong. Support thy fame, or dignity thy song? * ist Suanza; Childe Harold, d Canto. No--and round cradled innocence to prate, Ofthy drain'd blood' and 'duty taught by hate! "True taste and feeling must alike deny, Naturedisowns the unhallowed fullaby. Who crushed her fell destroyer's power And bade his seeptre fleeg Dispersed the vision gay, His hopeless way. The future minstrel sweeps the string; Upon the muse's wing. Or song has lost its power; Till tine's last hour! TYRO. TO THE DEPARTED YEAR. The following lines are from the peu of one of our favourite correspondents; and we are quite curtain that we shall perform an ac. ceptable service to our readers in rescuing them froin the alınost forgotten columns of à Commercial Advertiser. Farewell! thy pilgrimage is run, Thou'rt number'd with the ages past, And thou hast seen thy latest sun In death breathe forth his last: Hot seen thy ontspring fee: Eternity! Or more, or less, has rolled away, On that eveniful day, Salvation's tidings brought; And thou art not. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. LINES On revisiting Bristol, in Pennsylva nia: after a long absence. How grateful once was this refreshing breeze, When trifling cares disturbed my bosom's easeIl health forsook me if the world displeased, My body wasted--or my mind diseased-On these loved balıks I woo'd Hygeia's care, Nor breath'd in vain their health-inspiring air. Now, hateful memory's tormenting chains, Assure ine that eternal are my pains Nor Zephyrs soft--nor verdant walks can bring, Relief oblivious for the woes I singThy current boasts no Lethe to etface These lineaments affection's self dil trace.'Twas on thy banks, in sight of thee, sweet stream! 1 proved my all of bappiness a dreanAident, I loved- unwise my love I spoke, I reaped contempt--would that my heart had brokeMy tears still flow unheeded as thy wave, Nor e'er will cease but in the friendly grave. 4th Sept. 1917. FAREWELL! Born mid a nation's joyous note, We saw thee into being spring, Upon thy rapid wing; War dared no more destroy- Baptis'd in joy. Then rapine quenched his blazing brand, Then ceased the deadly notes to peal Along the ransomed land. Then industry his toil resumed, Her cauvass Commerce swelled; The olive v'er our regions bloomed, The cypress failed. Snatched from the witbering grasp of death, WI-re long convulsed Columbia lay; His destin'd sinking prey; Expelled the glooms that brooil, A golden floud. His censeless course forever on, Or distant realms unknown; May frame afar ia trophic skies, Or dart a cheerless ray, Hold on their way; That teli of uges that have been, Thy record shall be seen; Shall hallow thee for e'er, The barbinger. Shall consecrate thy memory, Farewell we oft have sigh'd! Yet, while the heart was beating, To hours of future meeting. Ah! never thought I, never, This heart was doom'd, and doom'd by chee To say,-farewell for ever! EPIGRAM In the following lines a very familiar anecdote receives all the charms of novelty from the felicity of the application. They were found in a blank leaf of Prior's poems. Prior. That Melville should acknowledge fairly, Or his own sovereign lady Mary. The puzzled knight his answer thus expressid, * In her own country each is handsomest." THE FUR TRADE, St. Louis, the capital of Missouri Territory is rapidly increasing in wealth and importance. The present population is estimated at 3000—There are in the town upwards of twenty-three commercial establishments, that do business on a pretty large scale; also, two banking institutions, with a capital of nearly one million of dollars. The following remarks are extracted from “ The Emigrant," a paper which has recently been established in St. Louis, by Mr. Sergeant Hall. The importance of this trade is questioned by none; but it has bitherto been conducted in such a manner, and on so small a scale, as to yield but little to the enterprize and hardihood of the individuals concerned. An attempt to form a large company, and invest an ample capital, has, we believe, been formerly made, without success, on account of the smallness of the scale. The subject is now in agitation, but we fear too much time will be consumed in deliberation, and the great, the all-important advantages now within our grasp, will be taken from us. Should this be the case, property in this section of country must depreciate. Other settlements will be formed high up the Missouri, which will take from us one of the principal articles of our trade, and by consequence one of the principal sources of wealth. We do not hesitate to call this trade, conducted on the extensive scale now contemplated, an all important object, for in addition to the wealth to be accumulated from it, it is the only means of security from a vexatious and everlasting Indian warfare. To be satisfied of this, we need only recur to the events of the late In this direction, it was emphatically a war of traders, and so in the nature of things, it must ever be. Small companies, or many individuals with distinct and clashing interests, and beyond the control of government, embark in the fur trade, wherever they expect to collect most skins. A contest arises, and the Indians are easily persuaded to waylay and murder the traders from whom they receive least advantage. Added to this, the recent occurrences of the Hudson's Bay and N. W. companies should stimulate capitalists to provide for their safety and their interests in time. The king of England and lord Selkirk are largely concerned in the Hudson's Bay company. The latter, finding the N. W. company engaged in a lucrative fur trade, attacked and finally drove them from their posts, by force of arms. The law cannot reach him, and, if it could it would not be put in force. Arrangements are now making by these companies to extend their trade up the Missouri, to the richest hunting grounds: and when our traders resolve, as they will, at some distant day, to embrace the advantages now within their reach, they will have to fight their way into (for they never can fight through) a powerful band of British traders and Indians. The mortification we shall then feel, will not be abated by the recollection that these men are hunting on the lands of the United States. war. Our fur trade is at present carried on entirely by individuals or small parties. It extends on Kanses river to the Kanses town, on the La Plate to the Pawnee towns on the Missouri, to the mouth of White river, or perhaps to the first creek west of the mouth. From this inconsiderable traffic, in the worst part of the country, little profit can be derived. Whereas the grounds in the west, extending up to the White Chapped Mountains, and along Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin rivers, abound in furs. A large company might be formed which would cut off and exclude the British traders from our grounds by force if requisite, prevent them from tampering with the Indians and settle the dispute with Selkirk and the N. W. Company, in a summary way. Our frontier would thus be rendered secure; the savages, formerly employed to murder our citizens, would be attached to our interests, and the wealth now carried into Canada, might be forever secured to this and the neighbouring territories. Funds would not be wanting-If they could not be procured here, they might from the Eastward. This subject is certainly of vital interest. We shall hereafter call the attention of the citizens to its details, Remedy for deafne88. Put a table spoonful of bay-salt into nearly half a pint of cold spring water; and after it has steeped therein for twenty-four hours (now and then shaking the phial,) cause a small tea spoonful to be poured into the ear most affected, every night, when in bed, for seven or eight nights saccessively. T. H. The pipes of fire engines in France, are made of flax, woven like the wicks of the patent lamps: they swell after the water is introduced, so that none of the fluid can escape; they are more portable and less expensive than leather pipes, and can be woven without seams or joining. Arrangements are making at New Orleans to bring wholesome water into the city. The Commercial Press says, that the citizens of other states would be surprised to learn, that with the Mississippi river washing the very thresholds of their doors, they are now obliged to purchase water by the bucket measure." INDEX TO VOL. IV. EMBELLISHMENTS. 1. An engraved frontispiece, representing Haverstock Hill, the retreat of Sir Richard Steele. CONTENTS. A. B. C. or Boney's downfal, territories, soil of literature. Boothroyd's 347 9 52 ib. 372 59 40 |