POETRY. THE BANKS Of The Dove. By MICHAEL THOMAS SADLER, Esq. M.P. (Written on leaving my nutive Village in early youth.) 1. ADIEU to the banks of the Dove! My happiest moments are flown; 2. Ye friends of my earliest youth, And shall ne'er be erased from my heart: But where shall I meet with such love? 3. Thou sweet little village farewell! I leave; and the banks of the Dove! 4. The hours of my childhood are past, As the waves of this beautiful stream; 5. But I go! for the Dove's crystal wave My mother is laid in her grave, Where yon hallow'd turret appears: Ye villagers think of the spot, For here in my birth place forgot, 6. Till then in the visions of night, And sweeten my woes while I weep BOSTON CHURCH. By JOHN CLARE, the Northamptonshire Peasant. MAJESTIC pile! thy rich and splendid tower And the proud sea claims as her rightful dower As dark oblivion's harvest of the storm;Yet waves may lash, and the loud hurricane Threaten thy cloud-capt dwelling, and deform The sky in glooms around thee:-all is vain; Empires may pass away, but thou'lt remain. Smiling in sunshine as the storm frowns by, Whose dreadful rage seem'd to thy quiet thrall As small birds' twitterings that beneath thee fly: Winds call aloud, and they may louder call; For deaf to danger's voice, sublime and grand Thou towerest in thy old majesty o'er all. Tempests, that break the tall mast like a wand, Howl their rage weary round thee, and no more mpression make, than summer winds that bow The little trembling weeds upon thy wall. Lightnings have play'd around thy brow of yore, And left no footmarks:-so it seemeth now, Time proudly spares thee till that doom is hurl'd That sears the ocean dry and wrecks the world. THE SONG OF THE NIGHT. By MRS. HEMANS. I come to thee, O Earth! Not one which glimmering lies. I come with every star: Making thy streams, that on their noon-day track Gave but the moss, the reed, the lily back, Mirrors of worlds afar. I come with peace: I shed Sleep through thy wood-walks o'er the honey-bee, The lark's triumphant voice, the fawn's young glee, The hyacinth's meek head. On my own heart I lay The weary babe, and sealing with a breath I come with mightier things! Who calls me silent ?—I have many tones- I waft them not alone From the deep organ of the forest shades, But in the human breast A thousand still small voices I awake, I bring them from the past: From true hearts broken; gentle spirits torn, From crush'd affections, which though long o'erborne, Make their tone heard at last. I bring them from the tomb : O'er the sad couch of late repentant love, I come with all my train ; Who calls me lonely ?-Hosts around me tread, Looks from departed eyes, These are my lightnings! fill'd with anguish vain, I that with soft control Shut the dim violet, hush the woodland song, I that shower dewy light Through slumbering leaves, bring storms-the tempest birth Of Memory, Thought, Remorse :-be holy Earth -I am the solemn Night. INDEX. [N.B. The figures with crotchets refer to the History.] ABERDEEN, earl of, his correspondence with the marquis of Barbacena, rela- Accidents: fire in a mine at Wanlock Head, 67; fall of a room at the 39 Adrianople, treaty of, between Turkey Aërostation, Mr. Green's ascent at Algiers, its quarrel with France, [172]; Antiquities: discovery of a grand man- 111 Arles, amphitheatre at, 33 ing Geo. Green, his fellow-appren- Cork: Leary and others, conspiracy to Exeter: Kezia Wescombe and Richard Lancaster: J. Latimer, murder of G. Lewes the King v. Philp, cruelty to a Leicester: Trimmer v. lord Hunting- Middlesex: H. Milbourne, falsely act- 44 Nottingham: J. Moore, stealing two Norwich John Stratford, poisoning Old Bailey Clements, &c. piracy, 68; Orford: S. Berry, stealing a pig, 44 Winchester: J. Stacey, murder, 320 loss of a travelling bag, 65; J. Mar- Army, French, return of the number of Baird, sir David, death of, 242 officers, 191 Arndt, Von, death of, 210 Arson, trial of Moses Jacobs for, 74 Aylesbury: W. Dowsett, burglary in Bankes, Mr. G., speech against the Ca- Barrup, Benj. trial for attempt to mur- Beechey, sir W., his plate stolen, and |