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Elinor.

Miss De Camp Shenkin's daughter

Mrs. Bland Ghost of Llewellyn's mother Mrs. Gibbs.

The resistance of Llewellyn, Prince of North Wales, in the year 1276, to the power of Edward the Third, has afforded the ground-work of the plot, though there is in many respects a deviation from historical strictness. Llewellyn and the Lady Elinor de Montfort are contracted to each other, but he finds a rival in his brother David, who flies over to the enemy. When these rivals meet to terminate their conteft by the sword in an Abbey, the ghost of Lady Ap Griffith, the mother of Llewellyn and David appears, and effects a reconciliation! This is accomplished by a speech, though some think the ghost should have been filent. Of the merits of this piece it is difficult to determine. It was acted on Monday evening with several alterations, which rendered it more acceptable. Perhaps other alterations may be made, and thus the exceptionable parts wholly expunged. We shall therefore postpone our criticisms till the next month, when we hope to lay a favourable account of it before our Readers. With its fubject we are much pleafed ; valour in a good cause cannot fail of se. curing our admiration. Mr. Boaden is, we understand, the author of this piece. He is undoubtedly a man of ability, and when strenuous exertions are made to please, the Public should not be fastidious.

The music, composed and selected by Dr. Arne, abounds with exquisite passages, and the Irish' pipes, accompanied by the Welsh harp, produced some very pleasing sensations.

MAIDSTONE. Theatricals are here conducted with applaufe, by Mrs. BAKER's Company. Some Gentlemen of the town have occasionally engaged in the exhibitions of the evening. Several of them have performed their parts with spirit and ability,

THE

THE

PARNASSIAN GARLAND,

FOR JULY, 1798.

ODE TO KNOWLEDGE.

HA

AIL Knowledge! great ennobler of the mind;

All hail, thou dear refiner of the heart ! Sublimest gift of heav'n to human kind,

'Tis thine the choicest pleasures to impart. Sweet are thy paths, bestrew'd with many a flow'r,

And fraught with generous joy the facred flame; Thine, the rich blessings of the social hour,

And thine the charms the rugged breast to tame. As the thick vapours of the murky night

Recede when pierc'd by Sol's effulgent beam; And lovely nature ting'd with radiance bright,

Unfolds her matchlefs charms with grace supreme; E'en so, when mental shades the mind involve,

And error's mists obscure fair reafon's ray, 'Tis thine, celestial knowledge! to diffolve

The intellectual fogs—and light display! To pour philanthropy o'er every breast,

To join mankind in friendship's bond is thine ; To bid discordant passions sink to rest,

Such the sweet impulse of thy ray benign!
Th’ instructive page thy chaste delights unfold,

And charm our souls in sweetly varied lays;
'Tis there th' historic muse with pencil bold
Pourtrays the deeds atchiev'd in ancient days,
VOL, IV,

Bb

Of empires vast the chequer'd fate we trace,

And mark each cause portentous of their fall; Heroes and kings, a long illustrious race,

Proftrate behold! at death's all-potent call. 'Tis there we rove through Homer's lofty strains,

The virtue of th’ Athenian sage* admire ; There hail the bard+ sublime of Britain's plains,

Or glow enraptur'd with a Shakespeare's fire !
Great nature's stores to thy pervading ken,

In grand luxuriance, all expanded lie,
From fragile flowers that scent the lowly glen,

To the proud oak, majestic tow'ring high.
From Alpine hills bedeck'd with living snow,

To the dark caverns of the rocky steep; From regions where the fervid lightnings glow,

To the dead chambers of the hoary deep.-But not the sphere of earth's capacious plan,

Adventurous knowledge! bounds thy daring pow's, 'Tis thine, with glowing breast serene lo scan

The sparkling gems that grace the filent hour. Led by thine ardent ray, sublime we soar

Beyond the confines of this orb terrene, And with a Herschel's piercing gaze explore

The midnight grandeurs of the starry scene. With him we range the wide ethercal space,

And mark the planet's vaft ftupendous roll; Or burning comet's pathless orbit trace,

Whilft awe-struck rapture swells th' astonish'd toul ! Hail, then, bright knowledge and for ever hail

That sacred arıt by which thy blessings flow! In distant ages may thy power prevail,

In diftant climes thine heavenly ardours glow.

* Socrates.

+ Milton.

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O may no cloister'd cell thy gifts contine,

No rude barbarian thy mild reign destroy, But as the sun may'st thou unbounded shine,

And o’er each realm diffuse thy halcyon joy. Thy genuine influence waft from pole to pole, Far as the breezes fly-wide as the billows roll! Lynn, June 4, 1798.

ABRAHAM AYTON.

STANZAS,

TO MARIA LAMENTING.

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HEN night's sable curtain envelopes the skies,

And the sun's cheering beams are withdrawn, How dreary all nature! the traveller cries,

As in darkness he wanders forlorn,
But when all-refulgent, Aurora appears,

And Sol his bright radiance displays,
His heart glows with rapture, dispers’d are his fears,

And with transports the change he surveys !
Life's journey to this we may justly compare,

Joy and sorrow by turns intervene,
Whilst hope is the cordial that sweetens our care,

And the sunshine that brightens each scene.
Then if fortune, capricious, her smiles now refuse,

Yet cease, dear Maria, to mourn !
The day is approaching, perchance, when my muse

With gladness shall hail their return.
Let Hope, soothing goddess, be ever in view ;

Oh, banish the spectre Despair !
And forget not the hearts that are constant and true,
Are heaven's peculiar care!
Lynn, June 8, 1798.

A. AYTOS.

ODE TO THE ZEPHYR.

M"

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TILD spirit of the western gale,

Should now my simple strains prevail,
If now the muse my song inspire ;
O! from the lucid cloud-wrought sphere

Where thou art borne, propitious hear
The notes that wildly warble from my lyre.

Say, faireft of aerial forms,
From winter's dire impetuous forms,

Dost thou to heavenly mansions Aec;
Or hid'It where genii of the deep

Their courts, in awful silence, keep
In cavern'd depths beneath th' Atlantic fea:

For when the genial spring draws nigh
With playful mein, mirth-glancing eye,

Swift issuing from thy hiding place,
As wide the spreads her blooming store

Of floral sweets, thou hov'reft o'er,
Gazing enamour'd on her beauteous face.

The clouds fraught with the vernal show'r,
As marshall’d by thy magic pow'r,

Then fring'd with lucid gold, advance,
Ting'd with the bows refulgent dyes:

And pensile hills romantic rise,
Floating sublime o’er the cerule expanse.

The mimic tempest harmless raves ;
When urg'd by thee the briny waves,

Tumultuous murm'ring, lalh the strand;
And as the foaming billow swells,

It swift the seaman's bark impels,
Who hails with raptur'd eye his native land.

Beneath the scorching glare of day
As nature faints, thou speed'st thy way;

At eve, on airy pinions borne
All dripping with ethereal dew;
Again her charms revive anew,

And livelier tints th' enamell'd plains adorn.

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