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instance of the effective manner in which our author, Homer-like, leaves it to the imagination to fill up

the void as to the whereabouts of the wife during the transaction, as well as to her ultimate destiny.

The admirable use of the spirited particles “and now” at the commencement of two successive paragraphs, and the conclusion of the same paragraphs by the reiterated professions of firm yet modest hope, cannot be passed by in silence :- Although some miserable persons have raised an objection against them on the plea of monotony and needless repetition. For our part, we would rather be the author of those few words, than gain the Newcastle Scholarship.

We have now only to regret that space precludes the possibility of our admitting a larger portion of the blaze of this stupendous luminary to the eyes of our dazzled readers at present. Let them prepare their smoked glasses against our next number.

[It is but fair to say that the following piece is from the pen of a former school-fellow, who has left about a year and a half. Henceforth we intend devoting a certain portion—not a very large one-to foreign contributions. The letter which accompanied the following was too complimentary to be passed over in silence.]

THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A SCENE IN

THE VALE OF LLANGOLLEN.

The moon was up, and o'er Llangollen's vale,
Beneath the canopy of heaven spread,
In solemn stillness crept; o'er hill and dale,
O'er all around, her holy influence shed,

And softly smiled, as from an opening cloud
The face of sleeping Nature she beheld,
In silence wrapt, as though within the shroud
Of death it lay, and there entranced was held.-

It is a sight of passing loveliness
At such a time to gaze on such a scene,
Alone and silent, as the loneliness
And silence there: and with the silver sheen
Of that fair orb to feel your soul can ring
In holy sympathy, which like a thing
Of life and love can steal within the heart,
And resting there a kindred rest impart.

So sleeping Nature pleased-so silent all —
I thought, I almost wished, she ne'er would wake :
But with the thought the distant waterfall
Came roaring on th' unwilling ear, and brake
The charm-as if some hideous dream were there
Intruding, where all else was holy peace;
As if some bitter thought, some secret care,
Still rankled in her bosom ill at ease.

I gazed, and could not tear myself away
From such excess of loveliness—my brain
With rapture whirled, and then the fitful play
Of Superstition o'er my senses came.
My mind from Nature unto Nature's God
Rose with emboldened flight-the ground I thought
Was holy, where my impious footsteps trod;
For sure, I deemed, Creation ne'er had wrought
So fair a work for sinful, erring, Man.

Still fierce, and fiercer still, the frenzy grew
Upon my brain. With wilder transport ran
Delirium, and still wilder pictures drew,
As to my aching eye the vault above

Revealed its inner glory; and on high
Upon the seat of Mercy and of Love
Enthroned, The Holy One, The Deity
Incomprehensible, The First and Last-
Before Whose dread and awful Majesty
A throng of Saints and Angels ever cast
Immortal crowns in blissful ecstacy ;
While Cherubim and Seraphim among
Hosannas loud and Hallelujahs rung.

Forgive, O God, that hideous sin—forgive
The brain bewildered, that presumed to pry
Into eternity, and dared decry
The God that mortal may not see, and live.
Remember, Lord, that in the very clay,
Wherewith from model of Divinity
Thy power creative fashioned Man, the ray
Of light, with wholesome capability
Of vision fraught, was not imprinted there
Alone ; but to assist the

eye,

and lend
A telescope to sight. Thy constant care
For Man, and providential goodness, deigned
A mind to add-a comprehensive soul,
Perfect in every part, and in the whole
Divine ; a faculty that might compare
Thy various works—a judgment to discern-
A genius to embody-all was there.
And though Imagination should not turn
To superstitious Phantasy, and burst
The bonds of Reason-yet unmoved the eye
Can never gaze on such a scene-it durst
Not unabashed behold the Deity
Reflected there, nor feel a transport high
Of mind and soul an impious ecstaoy.

9. 4. B.

THE HALCYON.

Oh whither art thou flying on thy brightly glancing wing,
That rivals with its glossy hue the fairest tints of spring ?
And wherefore leavest thou the earth, its calmness and its rest,
To skim with quivering pinions old Ocean's hoary breast ?

Where highest rise the angry crests of the foam-tossing waves,
Where in their depths the lightning its blazing arrows laves,
Where loudest roars the thunder and the wind, my fairy form
Is seen amidst the tumult, sole Empress of the storm.

Regardless of their threatening looks, 'neath which all mortals bow,
I fly along-they hurt me not-they cannot hurt me now;
For see, beneath my pinions bright the flashing waves subside,
The
angry

winds within their caves low-muttering abide.

The lightning flashes fainter yet, and now 'tis seen no more,
The thunder rolling distantly is heard along the shore,
And smiling through the murky clouds the Sun outpours his light,
And the subsiding billows ʼneath his beams are dancing bright.

The storm-tossed mariner is glad as o'er the crested wave
My form he sees—he knows it well — he knows its power to save,
For merrily through the waves his bark with lightning speed is

borne, And reaching soon the wished-for port, he hails the cloudless morn!

On the broad bosom of the sea, like crystal, clear and calm,
I build my nest, I rear my young, secure from care and harm,
And far in those green caverns, 'neath the unfathom'd ocean stream,
I seek my food and refuge from the noonday's scorching beam.

And when the Sun in western waves has dipped his fiery feet,
And the mild zephyr, whispering low, comes twilight cool to meet,
My pinions glancing bright once more o'er the calm sea will come,
And resting on the dewy earth I'll seek my own loved home.

E. G. E.

EVENING HYMN.

PATRI debitum honorem
Demus beneficiorum,
Luce nobis acceptorum.

Nos, supreme Regum Pater,
Tuum numen tueatur,
Velut pullos avis Mater.

Solve cuncti me peccati,
Die forte perpetrati;
Crucifixi causâ nati :

Requiescam dulciore,
Tui vicinique amore,
Quàm vel placido sopore.

Veræ degam pietatis
Vitam, tuis sub mandatis,
Quæ supremis servent fatis.

Tuâ fulta vi serena,
Somni vincta mens catena
Sopiatur absque pænâ.

Tuæ laudi gnaviorem
Me remittat post soporem
Virtus munerum tuorum.

Si sit nox insomni dura,
Requiescam sine curâ,
Visa fugiens impura.

Præsens esto, sitque stratum
Tuâ curâ ter beatum,
Nec timore perturbatum.

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