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And cover'd in its folds the gates, the tombs ;
And all that but a moment since was clear,
And to my vision sensible, is wrapp'd
In that concealing mantle--Soft ! it clears,
And-ha!-it is the lonely midnight hour !
The realm of Death hath sent her subjects forth
To people this our upper world, and walk
In visible shape among us !--the thick mist
That hid their rising, hath retired, and left
Their shadowy forms unveild-how solemnly
They pace among the tombs—how hollow is
Their silent greeting !-some have in their hands
Branches of yew, and others garlands bear
Of funeral cypress—but I mark
No face among them that to me doth bring
Remembrance of the living. ---Music!-hark-
And some one hollowly doth strike upon
The ponderous iron gate !--It opens ! And
A spectral stranger comes the mirror'd form
Of a yet living man---They go to meet
And welcome to their sad and dreary land,
With shadowy courtesy and solemn smiles,
The silent visitant-they strew his path
With the death-garland-and-sure--they do sing
Their dirge-like welcome let me catch the words
They utter!


The wanderer is come homecome home

Unto his native soil
Finish'd his journies he will roam
No moreno more will toil.

He cometh to a place of rest

He cometh to his mother's breast.
Walter. Why hath my heart died at the shadowy song,
And my brow dew'd itself with drops of fear!
Mine eyes are fix'd with fascination's gaze
Upon the spectre of the living dead !
This way he comes towards a new made

And all the shadows follow-Now I shall
Behold the death-struck face-he turos—it is
O God! myself I see !--my form—it sinks
Into the new made grave and all the rest
Have vanish'd !-I am the condemn'd-I am
The murder'd of the year and I shall die
When life has open'd all her charms to make
Me cling with love unto her !--Cecily,
My parent roof-my native land-all-all
Now centre in yon little new-made grave
For that I must resign ye. O warm hearth,
And gentle kiss of love, I lose ye both
For the chill bed and cold and icy lip
Of the stern bride which fate has destined me
Oh, I must die

and from all things I love
Be torn away for ever-Cecily-
O parent roof, farewell!

[ He faints A Year after the preceding-Scene, the River's Bank-Evening:

Walter--Cecily enters to him.
Cecily. Well, Walter, I shall laugh at thee to-morrow.
Evening is come, of the last fated day
Of thy tremendous year.



And should I see
That morrow, Cecily, I shall laugh too;
But 'twill not dawn for me.

Now fie on thee!
If thou speak’st thus, I must of force believe,
Thou dost not wish thy spousals--that thy love
Hath, with thy sickness, died for Cecily.

Walter. Oh wrong me not--for if to-morrow's sun
Shall see me living man- -thou, Cecily,
Shalt be mine own for ever-Thou hast said,
I must have slept within the lonely porch,
And had a fearful dream-because you found
Me fainting in the church-yard, on a tomb,
And of the

new-made grave of which I raved
There was no trace, and for that I have been
Since then a suffering maniac, though now
Restored to thee and reason--may thy thought
Be true, dear Cecily ; but I have seen
Wild madmen lose their frenzy ere they die,
And speak in tones of wisdom, for that Death
Lent a large portion of his majesty
Unto his victim; and besides he chose
To claim him with the all of his possessions,
His senses fully perfect. Thou hast seen
The summer sun, upon the dying day,
Ere she did quite expire, shed a broad
And glorious light ! Hast thou not, Cecily ?
Then sink at once into his wat’ry bed,
Nor grapple with the night-e'en so, my love,
Will it now be with me I am the swan,
Singing mine own sad dirge--but do not weep
What is inevitablemy poor girl,
I would not dwell on this, would other thoughts
But come upon my mind.

Dear Walter, I
Have tidings may dismiss thy painful thoughts-
Philip, my generous brother, is return'd
To greet his friend, and give his sister's hand
Unto her own heart's chosen-Pray thee now,
Look on him cheerfully-for see, he comes.

Enter Philip
Philip. (10 himself.) Can this be Walter !-this worn, wasted form
The gallant soldier, full of life and health,
From whom but one short year hath roll'd its course
Since last I parted-Friend, I come to deck
Thy bridal day with flowers, and thy brow
With young Hope's gayest garland. -

Hope with me
Is young no longer. She is aged now,
And all the flowers, that form'd her bright-hued crown,
Are dead, good Philip, dead !No matter—thou
Mayest pluck them from this pale and death-bound brów,
To plant them on my grave ! Sweet Cecily,
The marriage garlands are prepared, they say.
Alive or dead, oh, let me wear them, dear !
Place one upon my breast, and one upon
My low and humble tomb. Now lead me to
Yon grassy bank, on which the moonlight plays
As softly, and as pale, as though it knew
A dying man would render up his spirit
Upon that tranquil spot.-

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Dear Philip, mark
The change on his pale visage-his wan cheek
Hath flush'd a healthy glow, and his sunk eye
Doth glisten with a bright and steady light,
Oh, how I joy to mark it—thou art now
Well,- art thou not, dearest Walter ?

Yes, quite well,
Sorrow and pain have fled, -I am myself
And more-the very soul of death is in me-
I have been sad and suffering.-On the night
I heard the grave-song-its sad music struck

on my heart,--and gradually
It hath been withering since --now it is dead
Another spirit animates my frame,
And will till I am silent.-Now I go
Unto that moonlit spot-I would lay down
My burthen in her beam.-

Thou shalt repose
There, if thy fancy lead thee-lean on us,
We will support thee thither.-

Alone! and will in this last hour, I need
No human aid-start not-I can --for Death
Hath dealt most royally by me--for when
He touch'd me with his sceptre, he did wrap
Me in his robes of majesty, and round
My brow he placed his diadem, and bade
Me share his shadowy dignity and power,
And now I walk abroad in all his strength,
Reckless and terrible, and all I would,
I feel that I can do.

Nay, if thou hast
Nor pain, nor sorrow, then, my Walter, speak
Less sadly to thy Cecily—but I fear
This effort hath enfeebled thee!

No, no,
Upon this bank more clear the music comes
Which I did think to hear the distant song
Of many thousand voices,-now it swells
Stronger and nearer.-

Sure thy thoughts are wild !
There is no music!-

Yes, for me there is
It is the choral summons of the grave
The solemn song of Death! Ah, we know
The burthen-and I will not disobey
The Wanderer is come home!-

[ Dies.

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Our situation is no sinecure. The public in general, we know, imagine, from the great buoyancy of our spirits, that our time must be a continual sunshine holiday; but in that, as in many other matters, this highly respectable body is much deceived. We really have as mu labour on our hands as good Lord Sidmouth himself. The superintendence of the republic of letters is no ordinary charge, and the management of our literary subjects is a task which may indeed be “ dulcis inexpertis ;" but, in truth, as we feel, is a labour of great magnitude. Sometimes it has a depressing effect on our spirits ; so that perhaps at the time when we make the whole world laugh, we ourselves may be as melancholy as a gib-cat, or B**** C*******_the Euripides of Cockaigne. We feel a little appalled every now and then at looking over the immense number of books we are obliged to keep-no less than one hundred and sixteen --for the bare transaction of business. Indeed, one of our rooms has much more the appearance of a broker's office than of the greatest literary establishment in the empire.

One book, of course, is devoted to our Literary Correspondence, and from this we intended to have given ample extracts, but having only this solitary page left, we must defer it for the present, and in the mean time, beg to assure all our friends that they will hear from us very soon. We cannot, however, refrain from thanking Sir Scares Rue of Coventry for his vast bundle of small poetry. That the author is a man of genius and discrimination is evident from the following:

С OMMANDER of the faithful troops, whose hands
Hold the sharp pen, which ink-drops deep distain,
Round whose bright throne, the intellectual bands
I n never-ending circles love to train ;
S weet smiler on thy subject tribes--unless
To punish rebels rude should be thy will,
(0 n them full oft, and justly, I confess,
Punishment falls tremendous from thy quill.)
How wondrous 'tis to see a single mind
E xtend o’er earth its undisputed sway!
R esistance no where thought on-men inclined
Nowhere its despot power to disobey !
Ō h then! consider what on thee depends :
R ule gently, wisely, nothing like a Turk,
Trample down him who thy just rule offends;

H im who is good extol, and name him in thy work.* We read over those fine verses without at first perceiving that they composed an acrostic on our name. Henceforward we shall have a better opinion of acrostics. Indeed, we are inclined to think them something on a par with Sonnets,--the sense in the acrostic being steered by the beginning, and in the sonnet by the end of the lines. We are quite certain that Wordsworth would be a first-rate writer of acrostics, as he is so sublime a sonnetteer ; and Odoherty or Coleridge, who do not succeed well in sonnets, would, on the same principle, be no great hands at acrosticizing. C. N.


* i. e. Immortalise him.


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LONDON Cain, a Dramatic Poem, by Lord Byron, Mr Bolster, bookseller, Cork, is prepais in the press.

ring for publication a new edition of the On the 1st of January, 1822, will be History of the County of Kerry, by Dr published, a New Poem by the author of Smith; embellished with Views of the the Widow of Nain, &c. entitled, Irad and Lakes of Killarney, a new Map of the Adah ; a Tale of the Flood. To which will County, and other Engravings from de be added, Lyrical Poems, principally Sa- signs of the first British Artists. To be cred ; including Translations of several of handsomely printed in one volume octavo. the Psalms of David.

An Essay on the Difference between The Miscellaneous Works of the late Personal and Real Statutes, as connected Robert Willan, M.D. F.R.S. and F.A.S. with the Law of Nations. By J. Henry, comprising an Inquiry into the Antiquity Esq. Barrister. of the Small Pox, Measles, and Scarlet Fe- Ā Key, with Notes, to the Parsing ver ; Reports on the Diseases in London, Exercises contained in Lindley Murray's &c. &c. Edited by Ashby Smith, M.D. Grammar. By J. Harvey.

Licentiate of the Royal College of Physi- Shortly will be Published by subscripcians of London, &c. &c.

tion, The Elements of Anglo-Saxon Gram. Will be published in November, with mar, with Copious Philological Notes from the Almanacks, Time's Telescope for 1822; Horn Tooke, &c. Illustrating the Formaor a Complete Guide to the Almanack; tion and Structure of the English, as well containing an explanation of Saints' Days the Anglo-Saxon Language. A Precis on and Holidays ; with Illustrations of British Anglo-Saxon will be added, as an easy InHistory and Antiquities, Notices of Obso- troduction to reading that Language. By J. lete Rites and Customs, and Sketches of Bosworth, vicar of Little Horwood, Bucks. Comparative Chronology. This work will The History of Christ's Hospital, from also comprise an account of the Astrono- its foundation to the present time. With mical Occurrences in every month, with Memoirs of Eminent Men educated there, Remarks on the Phenomena of the Celestial by J. T. Wilson. Bodies; and a Naturalist's Diary, which The Rev. H. F.'Burder has in the Press, explains the various Appearances in the Mental Discipline, or Hints on the CultivaAnimal and Vegetable Kingdoms. An In- tion of Intellectual Habits, addressed partroduction will be prefixed on the Study of ticularly to Students in Theology, and Conchology, with a coloured plate of shells; young Preachers. and throughout the whole Work å variety A new edition of Arthur Young's Farof entertaining Anecdotes will be enter. mer's Calendar is Printing in 12mo, unspersed, enlivened by illustrative and deco- der the superintendance of John Middlerative Extracts from our first living Poets. ton, Esq. author of the Survey of Middle

Mr Jolliffe has prepared for the Press, sex, &c. many additional Letters, written during his A new edition of the Complete Works Tour in Palestine and the Holy Land, of Demosthenes, with the various Readwhich will shortly appear in a new edition ings, under the care of Professor Schaeffer, of his Letters, in 2 vols. 8vo.

is in the Press, and will appear early in the The History of Tuscany, by Pignotti, next year, in 6 vols. 8vo. interspersed with occasional Essays on the Early in the ensuing season will be progress of Italian Literature, has been Published, a Course of Lectures on Drawtranslated by Mr Browning, and will be ing, Painting, and Engraving, considered printed in the course of the

winter. as branches of elegant education, delivered Mr Buchanan, his Majesty's Consul at at the Royal and Russel Institutions. By New York, has made considerable Collec. William Craig. tions, during his successful Journies in The interesting Cathedral of Wells is Upper Canada, respecting the History of about to be elegantly and accurately Illusthe North American Indians, which, with trated. By Mr Britton. many other interesting materials and of- The Rev. Mark Wilks is preparing an ficial documents, will be shortly presented English edition of the old Cevennol. By to the public.

Rabaut St Etienne. A Treatise on the Law, Principles, and A small volume is in the Press, containUtility of the Insurance upon Lives. By ing eight Ballads on the Fictions of the Frederick Blayney.

Ancient Irish, and several Miscellaneous Shortly will be Published, a Voyage to Poems. By Richard Ryan, author of a Africa ; including a particular Narrative of Biographical Dictionary of the Worthies of an Embassy to one of the interior King- Ireland :-Also, by the same gentleman, a doms, in the year 1820. By William Catalogue of Works in various Languages, Hutton, late acting Consul for Ashantee, relative to the History, Antiquities, and and an officer in the African Company's Language of the Irish ; with Remarks, Service, in octavo, with maps 'and plates. Critical, and Biographical.

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