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ter an absence of seven months, it through foul play, persons having was discovered he never left Lon gone before to shut the gates, don, but bad married the daughter in order to oppose his progress; of an eminent soap-boiler, by and that the defendant bad paird which he netted 30001.This is a

over the money in properly, with case of ten thousand !

out the consent of all parties

concerned, which was a part of PugilisM.-Shaw, the Life the original agreement. A witGuardsman, who beat Painter atness called for the plaintiff proved, Hounslow, is expected to leave that he was not allowed to make town almost immediately with his bis way fairly, but that pero regiment, to show his courage in sons shut the gates in his way, another mode of figbting against which delayed him in opening the enemies of his country. The them; and also that a person rode pugilistic amateurs have lost some so close to him, that the horse sport by warlike appearances, as a trode on his heel.-On the other match between him and Oliver side, some witnesses were called to would have been made directly. shew that he failed from want of Oliver consented to fight, provided physical strength, and that he was he could receive the advice and obliged to go into an apothecary's training of the Gentleman who shop for relief on the way. It not, bronght him so fine into the ring bowever, appearing whether this in his combat with Painter. He was not occasioned by the improper seems to like Scots training, and treading on his heel by the horse, the Gentleman alluded to agreed the Jury, after some hesitation, to countenance his efforts.

found a verdict for the plaintiff for The late fight between Shelton his ten pounds. and Harmer was for 100 guineas..

PEDESTRIAN Fear.--Mr. Brooke, Tue following action to recover an officer in a Royal Regiment of money from a Stakeholder, was Horse Guards, undertook, for a tried at the last Maidstone Assizes: considerable wager, to go from -Petitt v. Phillips.--This was an Windsor to London on foot, and action against the defendant to re, return in ten hours. He started cover the sum of , 10l. which he from the barracks on Saturday held as stake bolder, in the event inorning, the 25th ult. at five of a foot race, which the plaintif o'clock, and returned to the same was to run from Gillingham churcbplace at twenty-five minutes past yard to Gravesend church-yard and two, having thirty-seven minutes to back, in three hours. The plain. spare. tiff was to make his way over the fields to Rochester, if he chose it, Wednesday, March 15, and from theuce on the turnpike Thomas Harris, was removed from road to Gravesend. In going over Reading, to the depot for his Ma. the fields, he was neither to be as- jesty's land service, Isle of Wight, sisted by any one opening the gates pursuant to bis sentence, he having for bim, nor to he obstructed by any been convicted of unlawfully carryone shutting them, but he was to ing a gun in the night time in take his chance. The plaintiff Haremoore Wood, Faringdon, claimed his money back again, on with intent to kill and destroy the ground that be lost his wager game.

POETRY.

ON

PO E TRY.

THE HIGH COURT OF DIANA.

EPILOGUE, To.a new Tragedy (written ly Mrs. Wilmot) and produced on Saturday, the 23d of April, at Diury-Lane Theatre, entitled " Ina."

WRITTEN BY THOS, MOORE, ESQ.

fire 1 sat,

LAST night, as lonely o'er my Thinking of cues, starts, exits, and

all that, And wondering much what little knavish

sprite Had put it first in women's heads to

write ;Sudden I saw-as in some witching

dreamA bright blue glory round my book-case

beam, From whose quick-opening folds of azure

light, Out flew a tiny Form, as small and

bright As Puck, the Fairy, when he pops his

head, Some sunny morning, from a violet “ Bless me!"-I starting cried~" what

Imp are you?” " A small He-devil, Ma'am-my name

BAS BLEU “ A bookish sprite, much giv'n to routs

and reading ; " 'Tis I who teach your spinster of high

breeding, “ The reigning taste in Chemistry and

caps, " The last new bounds of tuckers and of

maps,

" And when the waltz has twill her

giddy brain, “ With metaphysics twirl it back

again!"I view'd him, as he spoke-his hose were

blue, His wings-the covers of the last Re

view Cerulean, border'd with a jaundice hue, And tinsell'd gaily o'er, for evening

wear, Till the next quarter brings a new-fledg'd

pair. “ Inspir'd by me,(pursued this wag

gish Fairy) “ That best of wives and Sapphos, Lady

Mary, Votary alike of Crispin, and the Muse, “ Makes her own splay-foot epigrams

and shoes. “ For me the eyes of young Camilla

shine, “ And mingle Love's blue brilliancies

with mine; “ For me she sits apart, froni coxcombs

shrinking, “ Looks wise, the pretty soul! and thinks

she's thinking. " By my advice Miss Indigo attends “ Lectures on Memory, and assures her

friends “ Pon honour!-(mimicks)-nothing can

surpass the plan « Of that Professor-(trying to recollect)

pshaw! that Memory-man“ That-what's his name?--him I at

tended lately, « Pon honour, he improved my memory

greatly!” Here, curtseying low, I ask'd the bluelegg'd Sprite

What

bed ;

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her own,

What share he had in this oùr Play to Or sun crown the hill-top with gold, night?

Or moon strew with silver the plain, de Nay, there"-he cried" there I am Still onward my course will I hold, guiltless quite :

Till I meet my dear lost-one again. " What! choose à Heroinë from that Gothic time,

of Fortune, stand now but auspicious, á when no one waltz'd and none but Make love and a cottage my doom, monks could rhyme;

of treasure or pomp unambitious, de .When lovely Woman, all unschool'd

My prayer shall not farther presume. and wild,

Or sun crown the hill-top with gold, & Blush'd without art, and without cul.

Or moon strew with silver the plain, ture smild ;

Still onward my course will I hold, € Simple as flow'rs, while yet unėlass'd Till I meet my dear lost-one again,

they shone, “ Ere Science call'd their brilliant world

AIR-Mr. Sinclair. " Rang’d the wild, rosy things in learned orders,

Native Spain, adieu for ever! 6 And filled with Greek the garden's Lov'd and lovely, glorious Spain ! blushing borders ?

Mine are banish'd feet that never « No-no-your gentle Inas will not Dare to press thy turf again. do

Once these eyes illum'd with gladness, & To-morrow evening, when the lights While they scann'd thy beauties o'er, burn blue,

Now their orbs dissolve in sadness, * i'it come-(pointing downwards)--you Gazing now, to gaze no more.

understand till then, adieu !" Life and choice of change remain And has the Sprite been here? No Fare thee well, dear native Spain !

jests apart Howe'er man rules in science and in art, Native Spain! tħo' fate may banishi The sphere of woman's glories is the

And command me far to part; heart.

Never ean thy mem'ry vanish, And if our Muse have sketeh'd, with

From this glowing, grateful heart, pencil true,

Let an Indian solstice burn me, The wife the mother-firm, yet gentle Inward on my heart I'll turn me,

Let the snows of Norway chill, Whose soul, wrapp'd up in ties itself hath

There, my country! thou art still

Life and choice of change remainspun, Trembles, if touch'd in the remotest

Farë thee well, dear native Spain ! Who loves--yet dares e'en Love himself

SONG-Miss Matthews. disown, When Honour's broken shaft supports of nights fair as this, when the moon his throne;

shines bright, A such our Ina, she may scorn the evils, And each drop of dew is a bead of light, Dire as they are, of Critics and Blue Queen Mab, and her revelling Court, 'uis Devils...

said, Their morrices dance on the mush-room's

too

one:

head;

SONGS,
In the Comic Operd, of the “NOBLE

OUTLAW,”. Urought out this month at
Covent-Garden Theatre.

Each gallant young lordling of Elfin

land His lady-love leads by her tiny hand; The glow-worms in bushes hang lanterns'

gay,
And Aash round the ball-room a mimie

day.
To the water-fall's sound,

Round, round, and around,
Dance notable Mab, and her nimble

AIR-Miss Stephens
I'LL follow my love o'er the mountains,

Thro' valley, and dingle, and wood,
By the marge of soft murmuring foun-

tains, Near the brink of the thund'ring flood.

Court;

O! come by the moonlight, and share

the sport.

Yc

for me,

Ye Dons and ye Donnas' that idly sleep, " Ah! nay courteous Father! right 04. While delicate spirits their orgies keep,

ward I rove, Or, whether you loiter in hall or bower, : No rest but the grave, for the Pilgring Come forth, I adjure! by the moonligh;

of Love!" hour. This merry green-wood hath more charms

SONGS, Than couches of state with gilt canopy! 'Tis now the mad minute for prank and in the new Opera of “The UNINOWN play,

GUEST,” produced this month at DruryAll fairy-land wakes and keeps holiday!

Lane Theatre.
To the water-fall's sound,
Round, round, and around,

SONG-Miss Kelly.
Dance notable Mab, and her nimble WHEN fickle man for woman sighs,
Court;

And finds her heart consenting, O! come by the moonlight, and share Too soon he scorns the easy prize, the sport!

And leaves her to repenting ;

Then, vain are all her arts to please ;
AIR-Miss Stephens.

You feel no pity-Do you ?

But cry Good woman, cease to teazen Fenc'd round by brake, and lawn, and

" And here's my service to you." woud, The cottage of my father stood;

Then while my hand and choice are A decent plenty once his share,

free, And I was born a prosp'rous heir.

To man I'll make resistance; But ruthless war soon marr'd our lot, I'll teach you men my slaves to be, In ruin lies that native cot;

And keep your proper distance : That fire t00,—where shall sorrow end ? For while I lead you in my chain, Ah! who will prove his Orphan's friend? You feel no triumph-Do you?

Just now, good Sir, you plead in rain,
Now reft of father, fortune, home,

And so my service to you.
An outcast thro' the world I roam,
On stranger's bounty doom'd to live,
And beg those alms I once could give.

SONG-Mr. Philips.
On suppliant knees, each closing day,
With prayers I strive my debt to pay:

In vain may that bosom lost quiet de And still implore just Heaven to send

plore, A blessing on the Orphan's friend ! Which Hope has forsaken, to visit no

more!

For me no bright visions their sunshine ROMANCE-Mr. Sinclair.

impart, A Hermit who dwells in these solitudes, The dark gloom to ligheen, and cheer the cross'd me,

sad heart: As way-worn and faint, up the moun Tho' Hope for a moment a meteor may tain I press'd ;

glare, The aged man paus'd on his staff to ac The brighter the flash, the more dark the cost me,

despair. And proffer'd his Cell as my mansion

Yet Fame in the battle my deeds may of rest.

record, 46 Ah, nay, courteous Father ! right on When the trumpet to Glory the brave ward I rove,

shall invite ; No rest but the grave for the Pilgrim When the bright star of Vict'ry shall beata of Love !"

on my sword,

And illumine the banner that waves Yet tarry my Son, till the burning noon

in the fight. passes,

The cannons flash! the squadrons · • Let the boughs of my Lemon-tree

meet! i shelter thy head;

The vanquished foe is at my feet• The juice of ripe Muscadel flows in my Then Mercy bids me spare! glasses,

Charge, charge! we cry; in broken And rushes fresh pulled for Siesta are

ranks they fly, spread.

While shouts of triumph rend the air!

Sweet

Sweet Peace, succeeding now to War's ON THE VIRTUES OF A PIPE OF alarms,

TOBACCO. With laurel crowns the soldier's deeds in

arms: The trumpet sounds, the Warriors come,

WHAT a charming composer a Pipe is, While shouts proclaim their welcome

We smoke, and we puff away care,

We muse on whatever is pleasing, home, To Peace and Beauty's arms!

And grievances vanish in air.

Should Fortune be rather uncivil,
SONG-Mr. Braham.

And play you an ill-natured joke, Thc Knight was brave, the Maid was Take a Pipe and you think no more of it, fair,

'Tis smother's and lost in the smoke. Who roam'd the thicket wild

Should your wife be addicted to scolding, Her life, his arm had rescu'd there, You smoke, and you turn a deaf ear; Tho' she his foe-man's child.

With your pipe then you gravely turn He dar'd not own that fatal name

round Which might her hatred move,

Sayings-what is the matter my

dear? But urg'd in borrow'd guise his flame, And won that lady's love.

Should spleen or the vapours oppress Oh, Lady, list the Warrior's lay,

you, 'Tis a tale of times long pass d away.

And you'rė gloomy, you cannot tell

why,
In vain she sooth'd the secret strife If a glass of Barbadoes wont do,
His tortur'd bosom bore;

To the flask of Virginia apply.
He lov'd that Lady dear as life ;
But he lov'd honour more.

Parson Adums, when things were unto He left her, and in battle sought

ward, His plighted truth to prove ;

And did not succeed to his mind, There, to redeem his name he fought, Had always recourse to his Pipe, Or die for her and lore.

And never fail'd comfort to find. Oh, Lady, list the Warrior's lay, 'Tis a tale of times long pass'd away.

The English for hanging and drowning,

Are famous, both here and abroad;

But I'll answer for't never a smoker
AIR-Mrs. Dickons.

E'er look'd upon life as a load.
Ah me! Why should I heave a fond sigh?
Ah me! Why should a tear fill my eye? Then, heigh for a Pipe of Tobacco,
Never will

To that add a Tankard of Nappy ;
bid this bosom to bleed;
you

We laugh at all care and vexation,
Never in vain to your heart did I plead.
Hear me, then, hear me in sorrow im-

Quite easy, contented, and happy. plore, Tell me you pardon, and urge me no

STANZAS FROM THE PERSIAN. more. BALLAD--Master Barnet.

FAIR one! take this Rose and wreathe it The Woodman's life, tho' doom'd to toil, A brighter bloom will rest beneath it;

In thy braided hair;Is blest beyond what wealth can give;

Take this Rose, my Fair! And dear to him his native soil,

The flower, which late was scen to glow, That bids him independent live!

So lovely on that snowy brow, And if a care the morning knows,

Lov'd thy lip, and lightly shed That frowns upon his humble lot;

A dew'y leaf of rosy red, How sweet at eve the calm repose

To blush for ever there. That smiles upon the Woodman's cot!

Take thy Lily, Love! and twine it At early day he loves to hear

With thy waving hair ;The cheerful song that swells around; 'Twill gem the ringlets,-Why decline it? The sweetest music to his ear,

Take the flower, my Fair! To list the falling axe around;

And yet its leaflets, pure and pale, And tho' some care his labour knows, In beauty, on thy brow will fail;

Yet health and freedom are his lot; That brow attracts all eyes to thee, And sweet at eve the calm repose

And none will choose or chance to see, That smiles upon the Woodman's cot! The Lily fading there.

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