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Thy Scaligers—for what was “Doge the Great,” By having Muscovites for friends or foes. “Can Grande,”(1) (which I venture lo translate, Proceed, thou namesake of great Philip's son! To these sublimer pugs? Thy poet too,

La Harpe, thine Aristotle, beckons on; Catullus, whose old laurels yield to new ;(2) And that which Scythia was to him of yore l'bine amphitheatre, where Romans sate;

Find with thy Scythians on Iberia's shore. And Dante's exile shelter'd by thy gate;

Yet think upon, thou somewhat aged youth, Thy good old man, whose world was all within Thy predecessor on the banks of Pruth; Thy wall, nor knew the country held him in: (3) Thou hast to aid thee, should his lot be thine, Would thal the royal guests it girds about Many an old woman, but no Catherine.(5) Were so far like, as never lo get out!

Spain, too, hath rocks, and rivers, and defilesAy, shout! inscribe! rear monuments of shame, The bear may rush into the lion's loils. To tell Oppression that the world is lame!

Fatal to Goths are Xeres' sunny fielıls; (6) Crowd to the theatre with loyal rage,

Think'st thou to thee Napoleon's victor yields ? The comedy is not upon the stage;

Better reclaim thy deserts, turn thy swords The show is rich in ribandry and stars,

To ploughshares, shaveand wash thy Bashkir hordes, Then gaze upon it through thy dungeon bars; Redeem thy realms from slavery and the knout, Clap thy permitted palms, kind Italy,

Than follow headlong in the falal route, For thus much still thy feller'd hands are free! To infest the clime whose skies and laws are pure X.

With thy foul legions. Spain wants no manure: Resplendent sight! Behold the coxcomb Czar, (4) Her soil is fertile, but she feeds no foe; The autocrat of waltzes and of war!

Her vultures, too, were gorged not long ago;

And wouldst thou furnish them with fresher prey ? As eager for a plaudit as a realm,

Alas! thou wilt not conquer, but purvey.
And just as fil for flirting as the helm;
A Calmuck beauty with a Cossack wit,

I am Diogenes, though Russ and Hun

Stand between mine and many a myriad's sun; And generous spirit, when 'l is not frost-bit;

But were I not Diogenes, l’d wander Now half dissolving to a liberal thaw,

Rather a worm than such an Alexander ! But harden'd back whene'er the morning's raw;

Be slaves who will, the cynic shall be free; With no objection to true liberty,

His tub hath tougher walls than Sinopè: Except that it would make the nations free.

Still will he hold his lantern up lo scan
How well the imperial dandy prates of peace !

The face of Monarchs for an “honest man."
How fain, if Greeks would be his slaves, free Greece!
How nobly gave he back the Poles their Diet,

Then told pugnacious Poland to be quiet!

And what doth Gaul, the all-prolific land How kindly would he send the mild Ukraine, Of ne plus ultra ultras and their band With all her pleasant pulks, to lecture Spain! Of mercenaries ? and her noisy chambers How royally show off in proud Madrid

And tribune, which each orator first clambers His goodly person from the South long hid! Before he finds a voice, and when it is found, A blessing cheaply purchased, the world knows, Hears “the lie" echo for his answer round ?

granite, to give to my daughter and my nieces. The gothic monuments of the Scaliger princes pleased me, but a poor virtuoso am I.'" B. Letters, Nov. 1816.

(1) Cane I. Della Scala, surnamed the Great, died in 13:29; ho was the protector of Danle, who celebrated him as “il Gran Lombardo."-E.

(2) “Verona bas been distinguished as the cradle of many illustrious men. There is one still living :

"Per cui la fama in te cbiara risuona

Egregia, eccelsa, alma l'erona, – I mean Ippolito Piodemonte, a poet who has caught a portion of that sun whose selling beams yet gild the horizon of Ilaly. His rural pieces, for their chaste style of colouring, their repose, and their keeping, may be said to be, in poetry, what the landscapes of Clande Lorraine are in picture.” Rose.-E.

(3) Claudian's famous old man of Verona, “qui suburbium nunquam egressus est.”—The Lalin verses are beautifully imitaby Cowley:

Happy tbe man who his wbole lise doth bound
Within the enclosure of his little ground:
Happy the man wbom lhe same humble price
(The bereditary cottage of his race,

From his first rising infancy has known,
And, by degrecs, sces gently bending down,
With natural propension, to that earth
Which both preserved bis life and gave him birth.
Him do false distant lights, by Fortune set,
Could ever into foolisb wanderings gel ;
No change of consuls marks to him the year :

The change of seasons is bis calendar," etc. etc.-L. (4) The emperor Alexander, who died in 1828.-E.

(5) The dexterity of Catherine extricated Peter (called the
Great by courtesy), when surrounded by the Mussulmans on the
banks of the river Pruth. See Barrow's Peler the Great, p. 220.
(6) “Eight thousand men had lo Asturias march'd

Beneath Count Julian's banner ; the remains
of that brave army which in Africa
So well against the Mussulman made bead,
Till sense of injuries insupportable,
And raging thirst of vengeance, overthrew
Their leader's noble spirit. To revenge
His quarrel, lwice that number left their bones,
Slain in uonatural batlle, on the field
Of Xercs, where the sceptre from the Goths
By righteous Heaven was rest."

Southey's Roderick.-E.

Our British Commons sometimes deign lo "hear!"" Arts-arms—and Gcorge—and glory—and the A Gallic senale hath more longue than ear;

islesEven Constant, their sole master of debate, And happy Britain, wealth, and Freedom's smilesMusi fight next day his speech to vindicate. White cliffs, lhat held invasion far aloofBut this costs lillle lo true Franks, who had rather Contented subjects, all alike tax-proof, Combat than listen, were it to their father. Proud Wellington, with eagle beak so curl', What is the simple standing of a shot,

That nose, the hook where he suspends the world!(3) To listening long, and interrupting not?

And Waterloo-and trade-and--(hush! not yet Though this was not the method of old Rome, A syllable of imposts or of debi)When Tully fulmined o’er each vocal dome; And ne'er (enough) lamented Castlerea;h, Demosthenes has sanction’d the transaction, Whose penknife slit a goose-quill l' other dayIn saying eloquence meant“Action, action!” And pilots who have weatherd cvery storm-(4) XII.

(But, no, not even for rhymc's sake, name Reform.)" But where's the monarch ? hath he dined ? or yet Methinks we need not sing them any more;

These are the themes thus sung so oft before,
Groans beneath indigestion's heavy debt ?

Found in so many volumes far and near,
Have revolutionary patés risen,
And turn'd the royal entrails to a prison ?

There's no occasion you should find them here. Have discontented movements stirr'd the troops ?

Yel something may remain perchance to chime Or have no movements follow'd trailorous soups ? With reason, and, what's strangerstill

, with rhyme. Have Carbonaro (1) cooks not carbonadoed

Even this thy Genius, Canning! may permit,

Who, bred a stalesman, still was born a wit,
Each course enough ? or doctors dire dissuaded
Repletion ? Ah! in thy dejected looks

And never, even in that dull House, couldst tame I read all France's Treason in her cooks!

To unleaveu’dl prose thine own poetic flame; Good classic Louis! is it, canst thou say,

Our last, our best, our only oralor, (5) Desirable to be the “Désiré ?

Even I can praise thee-Tories do no more: Why wouldst thou leave calm Hartwell's green Thy spirit less upholds them than it awes.

Nay, not so much ;-they hate thee, man! because abode, (2) Apician table, and Horatian ode,

The bounds will gather to their huntsman's hollo, To rule a people who will not be ruled,

And where he leads the duteous pack will follow And love much rather to be scourged than school'd? But not for love mistake their yelling cry; Ah! thine was not the temper or the taste

Their yelp for game is not a eulogy;

Less faithful far than the four-fooled pack,
For thrones; the table sees thee better placed:
A mild Epicurean, form'd, at best,

A dubious scent would lure the bipeds back. To be a kind host and as good a guest,

Thy saddle-girths are not yet quite secure,

Nor royal stallion's feet extremely sure; (6)
To talk of letters, and to know by heart
One half the poet's, all the gourmand's art;

The unwieldly old white horse is apt at last

To stumble, kick, and now and then stick fast A scholar always, now and then a wit,

With his great self and rider in the mud:
And gentle when digestion may permit :-

But what of that? the animal shows blood.
But not to govern lands enslaved or free;
The gout was martyrdom enough for thee.


Alas, the country! how shall tongue or pen
Shall noble Albion pass without a phrase

Bewail her now uncountry gentleinen ? From a bold Briton in her wonted praise ?

The last to bid the cry of warfare cease,

(1) According to Bolla, the Neapolitan republicans who, dur- as an improvvisatore or a versifier from a poet. Grey is great, ing the reign of King Joachim, fled to the recesses of the Abruzzi, but it is not oralory. Canning is sometimes very like one. and there formed a secret confederacy, were the first that as- Whitbread was the Demosthenes of bad Laste and vulgar vehesumed the designation, since familiar all over Ilaly, of "Car- mence, but strong, and English. Holland is impressive from bonari” (colliers).-E.

sense and sincerily. Burdelt is swect and silvery as Belial him (2) Hariwell, in Buckinghamshire--the residence of Louis Xvin. self, and, I think, the greatest favourite in Pandemonium." B during the latter years of the Emigration.-E.

Diary, 1821. (3) “Naso suspendit aduoco."- Horace.

(6) On the suicide of Lord Londonderry, in August, 1822, The Roman applies il 10 one who merely was imperious to his Mr. Canning, who had prepared to sail for India as Governoracquaintance.

General, was made Secretary of State for Foreign Afairs,-not (4) “The Pilol that weather’d the storm" is the burthen of a much, it was alleged, to the personal satisfaction of George the song, in honour of Pill, by Canning.-E.

Fourth, or of the high Tories in the cabinet. He lived to verify (5) "I have never heard any one who fulblled my idéal of an some of the predictions of the poel-10 abandon the foreign pooralor. Grallön would have been near it, but for bis harlequin licy of his predecessor-o break up the Tory party by a coalition delivery. Pitt I never heard-Fox but once; and then he struck with the Whigs—and to prepare the way for Reform in Parliame as a debater, which lo me seems as diferent from an orator ment.-E.

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The first to make a malady of peace.

And will they not repay the treasures lent? For what were all those country palriots born ? No : down with every thing and up with rent! To hunt, and vole, and raise the price of corn! Their good, ill, health, wealth, joy, or discontent, But corn, like every mortal thing, must fall, Being, end, aim, religion-rent, rent, rent! Kings, conquerors, and markets most of all. Thou sola'st thy birthright, Esau! for a mess; And must ye fall with every ear of grain ?

Thou shouldst have gotten more, or ealen less; Why would you trouble Bonaparte's reign? Now thou hast swill'd thy potlage, thy demands He was your great Triptolemus; his vices

Are idle : Israel says the bargain stands. Destroy’d but realms, and still maintain'd your Such, landlords ! was your appetite for war, He amplified to every lord's content (prices; And, gorged with blood, you grumble at a scar! The grand agrarian alchymy, hight rent.

What! would they spread their carthquake even Why did the lyrant stumble on the Tartars,

o'er cash? And lower wheat to such desponding quarters ? And when land crumbles, bid firm paper crash ? Why did you chain him on yon isle so lone ? So rent may rise, bid bank and nation fall, The man was worth much more upon his throne. And found on 'Change a Fundling Hospital? True, blood and treasure boundlessly were spilt; Lo, Mother Church, while all religion writhes, But what of that? the Gaul may bear the guilt; Like Niobe, weeps o'er her offspring, Tithes; But bread was high, the farmer paid his way, The prelates go 10– where the saints have gone, And acres lold upon the appointed day.

And proud pluralities subside to one; But where is now the goodly audit ale ?

Church, state, and faction wrestle in the dark, The purse-proud tenant, never known to fail ? Toss'd by the deluge in their common ark. The farm which never yet was left on hand ? Shorn of her bishops, banks, and dividends, The marsh reclaim'd to most improving land ? Another Babel soars—but Britain ends. The impatient hope of the expiring lease?

And why? to pamper the self-seeking wants,
The doubling rental ? What an evil's peace! And prop the hill of these agrarian ants.
in vain the prize excites the ploughman's skill, “Go to these ants, thou sluggard, and be wise;"
In vain the Commons pass their patriot bill; Admire their patience through each sacrifice,
The landed interest—(you may understand Till taught lo feel the lesson of their pride,
The phrase much better leaving out the land)- The price of taxes and of homicide;
The land self-interest groans from shore to shore, Admire their justice, which would fain deny
For fear that plenty should attain the poor. The debt of nalións :-pray who made it high?
Cp, up again, ye rents! exalt your notes,

Or else the ministry will lose their votes,
And patriotism, so delicately nice,

Or turn to sail between those shifting rocks, Her loaves will lower to the market price: The new Symplegades--the crushing Stocks,

For ah!“the loaves and fishes," once so high, Where Midas might again his wish behold
Are gone—their oven closed, their ocean dry, In real paper or imagined gold.
And nought remains of all the millions spent, That magic palace of Alcina shows
Excepting to grow moderate and content.

More wealth than Britain ever had to lose,
They who are not so had their turn-and turn Were all her atoms of unleaven'd ore,
About still flows from Fortune's equal urn; And all her pebbles from Pactolus’ shore.
Now let their virtue be its own reward,

There Fortune plays, while rumour holds the stake, And share the blessings which themselves prepared. And the world trembles to bid brokers break. See these inglorious Cincinnati swarm,

How rich is Britain! not indeed in mines, dictators of the farm;

Or peace or plenty, corn or oil, or wines; Their ploughshare was the sword in hireling hands, No land of Canaan, full of milk and honey, Their fields manured by gore of other lands;

Nor (save in paper shekels) ready money: Safe in their barns, these Sabine tillers sent But let us not to own the truth refuse, Their brethren out to battle-why? for rent!

Was ever Christian land so rich in Jews? Year after year they voted cent. per cent., (rent! Those parted with their teeth to good King John, Blood, sweat, and tear-wrung millions-why? for And now, ye kings! they kindly draw your own; They roar'd, they dined, they drank, they swore they all states, all things, all sovereigns they control,

(meant And waft a loan “from Indus to the pole.” To die for England—why then live?-for rent! The banker-broker-baron(1)—brethren, speed The

peace has made one general malcontent Of these high-market patriols; war was rent!

(1) The bead of the illustrious house of Montmorency bas Their love of country, millions all mis-spent,

usually been designated "le premier baron chrélien;" bis anHow reconcile? by reconciling rent !

cestor having, it is supposed, been the first noble convert to

Farmers of war,

To aid these bankrupt lyrants in their need. Alas! how could his cabinet thus err?
Nor these alone; Columbia fecis no less

Can peace be worth an ultra-minister?
Fresh speculations follow each success;

He falls indeed, perhaps to rise again, And philanthropic Israel deigns to drain

"Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain." (4) ller mild per-centage from exhausted Spain.

XVII. Not without Abraham's seed can Russia march; 'Tis gold, not steel, that rears the conqueror's arch. Enough of this—a sight more mournful woos Two Jews, a chosen people, can command The averted eye of the reluctant Muse. In every realm their scripture-promised land: The imperial daughter, the imperial bride, Two Jews keep down the Romans, and uphold The imperial victim-sacrifice to pride; The accursed Hun, more brutal than of old : The mother of the hero's hope, the boy, Two Jews—but not Samaritans-direct

The young Astyanax of modern l'roy; (5) The world, with all ihe spirit of their sect. The still pale shadow of the lofliest queen What is the happiness of earth to them ?

Thal earth has yet to see, or e'er hath seen; A congress forms their“New Jerusalem,"

She flits amidst the phantoms of the hour, Where baronies and orders both invite

The theme of pity, and the wreck of power. Oh, holy Abraham! dost thou see the sight? Oh, cruel mockery! Could not Austria spare Thy followers mingling with these royal swine, A daughter? What did France's widow there? Who spit not on their Jewish gaberdine," Her fitter place was by St. Helen's wave, But honour them as portion of the show

Her only throne is in Napoleon's grave. (Where now, 0 pope! is thy forsaken toe? But, no,-she still must hold a pelly reign, Could it not favour Judah with some kicks?

Flank'd by her formidable chamberlain; Or has it ceased lo “kick against the pricks ?")

The martial Argus, whose not hundred eyes
On Shylock's shore behold them stand afresh, Must watch her through these paltry pageantries. (6)
To cut from nations' hearts their" pound of flesh.” | What though she share no more, and shared in vain,

A sway surpassing that of Charlemagne,

Which swept from Moscow to the southern seas!

Yet still she rules the pastoral realm of cheese, Strange sight this Congress! destined to unile Where Parma views the traveller resort All that's incongruous, all that's opposile. To nole the trappings of her mimic court. I speak not of the Sovereigns--they ’re alike, But she appears! Verona sees her shorn A common coin as ever mint could strike: Of all her beams—while nations gaze and mournBut those who sway the puppets, pull the strings, Ere yet her husband's ashes have had time Hare more of motley than their heavy kings. To chill in their inhospitable clime, Jews, authors, generals, charlatans, combine, (Ife'er those awful ashes can grow cold ;While Europe wonders al the vast design; But no,-their embers soon will burst the mould;) There Meiternich, power's foremost parasile, She comes !- the Andromache (but not Racine's, Cajoles; there Wellington forgets to fight; Nor Homer's.)-Lo! on Pyrrhus' arm she leans ! There Chateaubriand forms new books of mar- Yes! the right arm, yet red from Waterloo, tyrs; (1)

Which cut her lord's half-shatter'd sceptre through, And subtle Greeks (2) intrigue for stupid Tartars; Is offer'd and accepted ! Could a slave There Montmorency, the sworn foe to charters, (3) Do more ? or less ?-and he in his new grave! Turos a diplomatist of great éclat,

Her eye, her cheek, betray no inward strife, To furnish articles for the Debats;

And the ex-empress grows as ex a wife! Of war so certain-yel not quite so sure

So much for human ties in royal breasts ! As his dismissal in the Moniteur.

Why spare men's feelings, when their own are jests?

Christianity in France. Lord Byron perbaps alludes to the well-who was murdered, in September, 1831, by the brother and son known joke of Talleyrand, who meeting the Duke of Montmo- of a Majnole chief whom he had imprisoned.-E. rency at the same party with M. Rothschild, soon after the latter (3) The duke de Montmorenci-Laval.-E. had been ennobled by the Emperor of Austria, is said to have (4) From Pope's verses on Lord Peterborough :begged leave to present M. le premier baron juisto M. le premier baron chrétien.-E.

“ Aod he whose lighining picrced the Iberian lines,

Now formis my quincupi, and ouw ranks my vines, (1) Monsieur de Chateaubriand, who has not forgolten the

Orlames the genius of the stubborn plain, author in the minister, received a handsome compliment at Ve.

Almost as quichly as he cunqucr'd Spain."-E. rona from a literary sovereign: "Al! Monsieur C., are you related

(5) Napoleon François Charles Joseph, Duke of Reichstadt, lo that Chateaubriand who-who-who has written something?" died at the palace of Schonbrunn, July 22, 1832, having just aliecrit quelque chose!) Il is said that the author of Alala se- tained bis twenty-first year.-E. pented him for a moment of his legitimacy.

(6) Count Neipperg, chamberlain and second husband to Maria(2) Count Capo d'Istrias-afterwards President of Greece, Louisa, bad but one cye. The count died in 1831.-E.


While all the Common Council cry “Claymore!” But, tired of foreign fullies, I turn home,

To see proud Albyn's tartans as a belt And sketch the group—the picture's yet to come. Gird the gross sirloin of a city Celt,(1) My Muse 'gan weep, but, ere a tear was spilt, She burst into a laughter so extreme, She caught Sir William Curtis in a kilt!

That I awoke-and lo! it was no dream! While throng'd the chief of every Highland clan Here, reader, will we pause :-if there's no harm in To hail their brother, Vich lan Alderman!

This first-you'll have, perhaps, a second “CarGuildhall grows Gael, and echoes with Erse roar,


(1) George the Fourth is said to have been somewhat annoyed, King, if he did not think him well dressed. “Yes!" replied bis on entering the levee-room at Holyrood (Aug. 1822) in full Stuart Majesty, "only you bave no spoon in your hose.The devourer tarlan, lo see only one figure similarly attired (and of similar bulk) of turtle bad a fine engraving executed of himself in his Celtic

-that of Sir William Curtis. The city knight bad every thing attire.-E. complele-even the knife sluck in the garter. He asked the

The Island; (1.




The sail resumed its lately shadow'd white,

And the wind flutter'd with a freshening flight; The foundation of the following story will be The purpling ocean owns the coming sun, found partly in Lieutenant Bligh’s Narrative of But ere he break--a deed is to be done. the Mutiny and Seizure of the Bounty, in the

II. South Seus, in 1789; and partly in Mariner's

The gallant chief within his cabin slept, Account of the Tonga Islands. (2)

Secure in those by whom the watch was kept:

His dreams were of Old England's welcome shore,

Of toils rewarded, and of dangers o'er;
His name was added to the glorious roll

Of those who scarch the storm-surrounded Pole.

The worst was over, and the rest seem'd sure,(3)
And why should not his slumber be secure?

Alas! his deck was trod by unwilling feet,

And wilder hands would hold the vessel's sheet; The morning watch was come; the vessel lay Young hearts, which languish'd for some sunny isle, Her course, and gently made her liquid way; Where summer years and summer women smile; The cloven billow flash'd from off her prow Men without country, who, too long estrangeil, In furrows form'd by that majestic plough; Had found no nalive home, or found it changed, The waters with their world were all before; And, half uncivilised, preferr'd the cave Behind, the South Sea's many an islet shore. Of some soft savage to the uncertain waveThe quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane The gushing fruits that nature gave untilld; Dividing darkness from the dawning main; The wood without a path but where they willid; The dolphins, not unconscious of the day, The field o'er which promiscuous Plenty pour’d Swam high, as eager of the coming ray;

Her horn; the equal land without a lord; The stars from broader beams began to creep, The wish-which ages have not yet subdued And lift their shining eyelids from the deep; In man-to have no master save his mood;(4)

(1) The Ioland was written al Genoa early in the year 1823, and from which every young officer of the navy may derive vaand published in the June following.-E.

luable instruction.-E. (2) The hitherto scallered materials of the Eventful History (3) “A few hours before, my situation had been peculiarly of the Mutiny and Piratical Seizure of the Bounty, with Natlering : 1 had a ship in the most perfect order, stored with many important and most interesting additions, from the records every necessary, both for health and service; the object of the of the Admirally, and the family papers of Captain Heywood, voyage was attained, and two thirds of it now completed. The P. N., have lately been collected and arranged by Mr. Barrow, remaining part had every prospect of success."Bligh. in a little volume, to which the reader of the poem is referred (1) The women of Olaheite are handsome, mild, and cheerful

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