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238 One eye hath glanc'd; nor did thy wonders When all the sons of God together sang dart,
The morning stars in choral concert rang; That beavenly truth, the simplest Christian read, And as they journey'd in their golden spheres, Of a first cause, conviction to his heart; Drop't their young splendours on the birth of Varead that truth, though legibly impress'd years ; Ou thy bright aspect, as within his breast; --He view'd it, as the deep unfathom'd realm, The Atheisi reads not-he by science led, Where the pale moon delay'd her silvery helm Mounts to the skies on telescopic wing; When bid, at pious Joshua's command, Attends each planet through its wondrous ring; For Israel's faith o'er Ajalon to stand ; And bounds its orb-marks its eccentric course, He view'd it, as the citadel of light; Spans its dimensions-calculates its force- The lofty portal of the realms of sight; Proclaims its stay-predicts its sare return, The ceiling of the palace of the blest, While nations tremble to behold it burn. The glitt'ring contines of celestial rest; - But strange to tell ! from this stupendous The blazon of munificence sublime, height
The glorious transcript of coeval time ! He sinks, and planges to the depths of night!
END OF THE VILLAGER'S LAY. The skill that led him through this woudrous maze,
To Pour'd on philosophy, oh! immortal blaze;
Mr. R. M. H.
As a memorial of many
Delightful Rural Rambles ;
And as an acknowledgment of gratitude,
for the From that warm source into his darken'd soul He felt no hallow'd enianation roll,
Social, Intellectual, and Religious, He saw no Power, that with almighty will
Daring several years
Affectionate Friend and Gemm'd night's blue concave with transcend
Worthy Man; ent skill, But knowing much-still less, as more he saw,
The foregoing Juvenile Poem
Is Inscribed by Knew be the uthor of great nature's law;
THE AUTHOR. And though with him the circling spheres he
Jan. 18, 1821. trod, He spurn'd-believ'd not-knew not-prais'd not God.
EPIGRAM-From Martiala Fair azare vaalt when winter's northern blast
I YIELD to love, bat Nisa wishes more; A glist'ring robe of snows around had cast;
I must not love alone, but must adore; In the keen clearness of the frosty night,
But, Nisa, the event will fully prove
That if I worship thee, I cease to love.
From her cheek has fled the glowing hue,
And her eyes have lost their heav'nly blue,
And her lips so late of ruby red, Through summer's charms, or winter's stormy Pale and inanimate, tell her dead : wrath :
The ringlets roll on her breast of snow, Unknowing he to mark the comet's track,
Which erst with rapture was wont to glow, Resolve its orbit, and announce it back : For Galileo's tube ne'er met his eye,
But never again will heave the sigh,
Nor glow with generous sympathy. Nor Newton's spirit led him through the sky, To the grave she's borne by weeping friends, Nor in those regions drunk at learning's spring, And the bursting sigh each bosom rends; Dar'd flutter vainly on presumption's wing.
Her spirit freed from its mortal clay, --Fair azure vault! simplicity's dear child,
To elysian shades swift wings its way. View'd stars as stars, that spangled o'er thy wild;
J. R. And when the comet's awful splendour blaz'd, As such he view'd it, and serenely gaz'd; Knowing the Power whence first its course EDWARD AND MATILDA, begun,
A Poem, in Two Cantos.
BY T. N.
Canto the First.
Dwelt cheerful Edward and his charming bride, Flash'd new-born light in its created hour, His dear Matilda, all his joy and pride; Wben day, emerging from eternal night, And the fair mistress of his heart's desire, Felt the great fiat. Let there pow be light!” | With equal love, returned his ardent fire.
240 Scaroe had gay sol in golden chariot driv'n Til an old rain, open'd to his sight, T'wice round the earth, through the blue vault That added to the terror of the night; of heav'n,
Vast fragments of a pond'rous size around, Since first they dwelt in this their snug retreat, Bestrew'd its base, and scatter'd o'er the Far from the pomp and splendour of the great;
A light that issued through the broken wall, And undeserving of so great a style
And at that moment heard a suppliant call, Struck with the beauty of Matilda fair, “Oh! spare me, spare me,” cried a fault'ring His only thought was how he could ensnare sound And captivate the charms of one so bright, “Oh! spare me, spare me," echo whisper'd Who stood so tempting in his hateful sight. round. Alas the time, in an unguarded hour,
Then swift as lightning through the court he Betrayed by grandeur and apparent pow'r,
flies, The lost Matilda gives up every tie,
And to a pond'rous door his strength applies, And yields the victim of his treachery; That yields admittance to his pow'rful arm, To foreign climes he bastens with bis prize, It's creaking hinges sound a dire alarm. And all his black desires be gratifies;
Then straight he enters, and explores the place, Nor gives reflection time; no moment's stay; His bosom charg'd, he hastes with quicken'd But swift as light, he bears his prize away.
The crambling remnant of a winding stairs.
Soon he ascends, but ere yet at the top, WHILE through the cupola of lofty trees,
The noise of footsteps causes bim to stop, That bend submissive to the pressing breeze,
When a deep groan in awful cadence rung Bright Sol resplendent shot his ev'ning ray,
Through Edward's frame, but boldly on he And sweetly sunk the golden orb of day;
sprung. When mounting high 'midst pearly stars of When O! what horrors broke upon his sight,
Soon he ascended to the topmost height, night, The pallid moon appears as silver bright;
Through the dull glimm’ring of a lamp's pale The air serene; a universal calm;
A vile assassin o'er a female form,
His reeking dagger with her blood still warm;
Yet in bis hand he held the fatal blade,
That deadly bavock in her heart had made; To lull the sorrows of desponding care
Senseless she lay extended on the floor,
Drench'd in the deluge of her crimson gore. But soon the sky a different aspect wore : Black clouds contend, and winds begin to roar; With fury on the monster, Edward sprung, The nightingale's sweet harmony had ceas'd; And with bis sword his ruthless bosom stung: And the stern fury of the storm increas'd, Deep in his breast be strikes the well-plac d The dismal screech-owl now began her note wound, That rung discordant through her noisome Pierces his heart, and brings him to the ground: throat;
Then turns around opprest with woe and care, Still on Matilda Edward's mind was bent, Heaves up a sigh, and mourns the lifeless fair ; Which many a pang of recollection rent, Seizing her hand with sympathetic grace, When a loud shriek assail'd his wond'ring ear, Beholds the lost Matilda in her face. He grasp'd bis sword, and, adappall’d by fear, Rush'd on upmindful of the storm with speed,
A sudden shiv'ring strikes his manly forin, To whence be thought he heard the sound pro- His strength departs, his blood no more runs
ceed; Scarce had he enter'd at a gloomy wood,
His lips turn pale, his heart froze to its core, And scarcely knowing what he then pursu'd ;
He sinks! he falls ! and never rises more.
LINES ON A SKULL,
a Hermitage in Wales. The only means to guide his dreary way. Tired and fatigued, he turns to seek his cot
In this lone spot, oh friend or stranger!
Start not this human wreck to view,
Brought from the field of strife and danger,
The immortal field of Waterloo.
Whatever fierce contending nation
Birth to its silent owner gave, He throught from whence he heard the piteous It now is no consideration !
We all are equal in the grave. cry Could not be far, determin'd to descry; Mechanic toil, and proud ambition, A pray'r to heaven's all bounteous throne he Submit alike to fate's decree; sept,
And brought at length to this condition,Then grasp'd his sword, and boldly on he went, What this appears, thine soon must be.
241 Poetry-Elegy on the late Beilby Porteus. 242 Whether in fight to perish greatly,
How then in sable weeds thy sons array'd In fields of glory be thy lot,
Woald weep their folly, and their criines deOr in a palace rich and stately,
plore; Or stretch'd on straw, it matters not; Too late, alas, that fruitless tribute paid, For spite of every false suggestion,
Swells but his merits and thy guilt the more ! or wealth, or vanity, or pride,
Yet, grandeur, hear, when o'er the dark unknown Alas! the solemn dreadful question
At life's sure close ye stand in dread suspense, Is, how we liv'd ?-not, when we died? R. When pleasure, power, and vain parade are
With all the paltry joys of mortal sense. On a half-length Portrait of the Poet Cowper, imituted from the Latin of Then holy Truth, no longer spurn'd aside,
Shall dart her vivid soul-pervading light, Beauhausen.
While rousing conscience rends the veil of The hand that half of Cowper drew,
pride, Most prudent we may call;
And 'rob'd in thunder reassnmes her right. The Artist, when he painted, knew
With anguish wrung beneath her piercing frown, That none could paint the whole.
Should then a Porteus in your aid appear,
His counsels would ye spurn, his pray’rs dis. ELEGY
Or, as of late, repay him with a speer? ON THE LATE BEILBY PORTEUR,
Ah! no, your high-born souls, no longer proud, Lord Bishop of London.
Trembling would hear his pious accents Bow, Sar, letter'd Muse, thou whose high-soaring Who fear their God, and shun eternal woe.
And gladly join, though late, the vulgar crowd song, Wafts grateful incense to the shrine of pride, Then, ere that awful hour arrive, prepare, Must e'en to me the mighty theme belong, While yet ye may, while heav'n vouchsafes To sing how Porteus liv'a, how Portens died ?
And justice hurl you to eternal death.
Mrs. Barton, who resides upon a farm No high eulogium swells the pompous strain, No lofty urn displays the labour'd wreath,
in the parish of Mansfield, had for Where tombs and statues throng the mould
some time observed one of her hens to 'ring fane.
be in a lingering state: the hen dying Ah! wherefore say to him alone denied ? a few days ago, curiosity prompted “ Slew he no victims at ambition's shrine?” Mrs. B. to examine into the cause of Or rais'd your hatred when to Heav'n he cried its death ; but in attempting to draw it, To blast' the warrior's impious design ?
she took hold of a substance which she Or tell, ye proad who bask in fortune's ray,
was unable to remove: one of her men Did he with truth, your noble ears defile, Drag anpolite your vices into day,
being present, immediately took his Nor soothe your greatness with a flatt'ring knife and opened the fowl, when, to sinile ?
their utter astonishment, they disThis silence hence, thrice bappy envied lot,
covered a large toad, which had grown Free from the slime of Adulation's tongue, fast to the side of the hen!! By Christians honour'd, by the wise forgot, By men neglected, and by angels sung! Long as throughout th' infinity of space
ARCHDEACON PALEY. Unnamber'd orbs in mazy circles roll, Long as our central Sun retains his place, In a stage coach, in which Paley was And pond'rous Earth revolves upon her pole, travelling from the North, was a petty Thy works,great man,shall live, shall still convey tradesman from a town near the ArchTheir healing influence to the tortur'd mind, deacon's residence, who gave himself While breathing marbles into dust decay,
airs, and expressed dissatisfaction at And float unheeded on the reckless wind.
the accommodations on the road. On Thy classic page with parest precept fraught, the arrival of the coach at a capital Thy holy zeal, and unaffected strain, Thy clear profandity of justest thought, inn, the passengers were shewn into a Convince the doubtfal and confound the vain! large, well-furnished room, where every Vagrateful world! thy loss could'st thou but thing was too good for the most fastiknow,
dious person to find the lcast fault. Or from the future tear its dark disguise, “ This is tolerably comfortable,” said To see how long the stream of time must flow,
the pompous passenger, “but after all Ere such another sun shall gild thy skies.
it is not like home.”—“Very unlike Westminster Abbey.
home, indeed, Sir,” said Paley.
DESTRUCTION OF THE CAXTON PRINT
ING-OFFICE BY PIRE.
243 Destruction of the Caxton Printing-office.
244 About three o'clock the roof fell in.
This event was announced by the mount(With an Engraring.)
ing fire, which rose to a tremendous On Tuesday, January 30th, 1821, a height above the building, carrying most dreadful fire broke out in the Cax- into the air flakes of burning paper, ton Printing-office, Liverpool, which, which whirled around in a most awful in a few hours, reduced this lofty and manner, and apparently setting the extensive pile of buildings to a heap of whole firmament in a blaze. The win. ruins.
dows at this time were wholly demoThe fire was first publicly discovered lished by the fire; so that the current about one o'clock in the morning; and of air which the apertures admitted, the alarm being given, some of the gave new vigour to the flames, and aug. people employed on the establishment, mented the conflagration. and who lived on and near the pre- The engines unhappily arrived too mises, were roused from their beds. late, either to extinguish the fire, or These immediately gave notice to to preserve any part of the bnilding, others who lived in the vicinity; and the devouring element having obtained all, with the utmost expedition, hast. such an ascendancy, as to bid defiance ened to the awful spot, to render all to all opposition. In the meanwhile, the assistance in their power in extin- | as the fire increased, the various floors guishing the flames. The engines were successively gave way, imparting in instantly called; but, unfortunately, their burning descent an additional stithey had been previously conducted to mulus to the flames, which seemed to another fire which had just happened triumph in their acquisition of new in the northern part of the town; so combustible matter. The spectacle, at that nearly an hour elapsed from the this time, was dreadfully sublime. The first discovery of the fire to the time of paper in the air appeared like balloons their arrival.
on fire; and a considerable part of the The fire first appeared in a small town was illuminated with the light apartment in the north-west end of the that the flames emitted. The burning composing-room. This apartment con- fragments were whirled in various ditained old type, and sundry stores of rections, covering the ground with the various kinds, together with waste memorials of desolation, to an extent proofs, and was only occasionally vi- of nearly two miles. sited. Here it is probable that it re- About four o'clock a large portion of mained a considerable time, preying the eastern wall fell in with a horrid upon such articles as lay within its crash; but this, instead of deadening range, until it had acquired strength the fire, gave a new momentary impulse to burst forth into one general blaze. to the flames, which, gathering round From this room the flames ascended to the materials, retained their wonted the rooms above, which were filled with vigour, and thus gained an opportunity books, sheets, and numbers; and in less of issuing from the sides, and pouring than an hour the upper stories exhi- the fiery inundation without any obbited an extended volume of flame. struction.
The men, on entering the building, The men who managed the engines, hastened first to the press-room, in the on finding that all efforts to extinnorthern end of which they discovered guish the fire were unavailing, turned fire falling from the small room above, their attention to the adjacent buildin which it probably originated. They ings, pouring streams upon them, to then ascended the stairs, and attempted prevent a communication of the contito enter the composing-room, but this guous flames. Many of these were so was so completely filled with smoke close to the burning pile, that had the and fire, that they were compelled to re-walls near them fallen in that direction treat, without being able to secure some they must inevitably have been involved valuable manuscripts which lay on dif- in the common wreck. These walls, ferent frames, where they had been however, providentially stood, until the working on the preceding day. The fire had abated, and the wind being fire then communicated from room to favourable for the preservation of the room in its descent, until the whole contiguous cottages, not one of them building about three o'clock presented was set on fire. nothing but a bed of fire, or an im- The direction of the wind, during bodied flame.
the conflagration, was nearly south,
245 Destruction of the Caxton Printing-office. 246 though somewhat inclined to the west ; | cles, which had been deposited in a and, happily, it did not blow with any store room on the bottom floor, the men considerable degree of violence. Issu- rescued at the risk of their lives. In ing from any other quarter, the flames this room they continued while the must have been driven immediately on floors and roof above them successively some contiguous houses ; in which case gave way, and until the melted type their destruction would have been in- descending through the crevices of the evitable. But although it was suffi- chambers, dropped, like rain, upon ciently strong to carry the flame through their clothes, and the paper they were the broken wall on the eastern side of preserving. Being, thus compelled to the building, as no houses were on the retreat, the remaining mass of this vast opposite side of the street in that direc- property, amounting to an enormous tion, their energies were spent without sum, of which, at present, no accurate communicating with any other combus- estimate can be formed, was involved tible matter.
in the common destruction. The acThe light which the flames emitted count books, which were in a detached was so strong, as to resemble day; and building, have been preserved. The even to render the most diminutive ob- vestiges of this vast property still lie jects visible. The room in which a buried in the heaps of rubbish that man, living in Tranmere, slept, was involve the remains of Caxton Buildso illuminated, that he got up to dis- ings, which was one of the largest cover its source; and from its brilliancy publishing establishments in this kinghe was enabled distinctly to discern by dom, and perhaps in the world. his watch the hour of the night. The The
property rescued from the flames, place in which he lived, is in Cheshire, and taken from the contiguous buildon the opposite side of the harbour, ings which were thought to be in immiabout two miles distant from the con- nent danger, was partly carried into the fiagration.
houses of the neighbouring inhabitants, The heat also was too intense to be who readily opened their doors on this borne, except at a considerable dis- disastrous occasion, and partly piled in tance. Many panes of glass in houses the streets, protected by a guard of adjacent were broken with its excessive soldiers until a place of safety could be Fiolence; and from the upper parts of found, to secure it from the depredathe flaming ruins, the molten lead tions of any who might have mingled streamed around, and lodged in shin- with the vast crowds of people asseming spangles on the clothes of several bled to witness the catastrophe. who approached near the fire to rescue The fire continued burning during from its destructive power such articles the whole day, and on the ensuing as could be secured.
night occasionally blazed with renewed The flames continued to rage with violence. Both by night and by day undiminished violence from the moment the soldiers were continued, to guard they gained the ascendancy, until nearly the ruins, and to prevent the thoughtfive o'clock, when, having exhausted less from approaching too near to the the combustible matter which lay within hanging walls, until Thursday the 8th their reach, they gradually declined, of February. The fire, though appaand occasionally' became mixed with rently nearly smothered, still continues smoke that arose from a bed of fire to burn; and on the attempts that have distributed over the bottom of the build- been made to remove the rubbishi, the ing, surrounded by cracked and broken heat has been too intolerable to be fragments of walls, that only gave borne; and fire still begins to glow in variety to the forms of desolation.
many places as as the air is From this vast pile of buildings, filled admitted. with type, printing-presses, numbers, The occasion of this calamity, we books bound and in boards, together have no means of tracing in a decisive with stereotype, engravers' tools, cop- manner. The various rooms having perplate-presses, paper, and stores of been warmed with steam from a boiler various kinds connected with the ex- without the building, no fire was tensive trade carried on by Mr. Henry known to exist in the parts where it Fisher, the proprietor ; the only articles began. The men quitted their work of consequence that have been preserved about seven in the eveving, and left are, the copper-plates, and about a every thing secure; and about eight, a thousand rcanis of paper. These arti- man appointed for the purpose, went