Imagens das páginas

Said, -Here is madam Reason too,

Aveva per dispetto
And smiled with triumph in his heart.

D'anonnciarla negletto ;
E allor che il Nume vide
Dal lungo udire stanco ;
V'è la Region pur anco,

Dice; e fra sè poi ride.
Love, when he heard the ungrateful name, Quando quel nome ascolta
Pensive, abashed, his head let fall,

Pensoso abbassa i guardi, And said,—Too late the lady came;

Poi dice Amore: è tardi; "T is best she make another call.

Che passi un' altra volta.

LA BELLEZZA IN LIBERTA. Unthinking Beauty loud complains,

Gemeva la Bellezza That love has loaded her with chains ; D'Amor fra le catene avvinta e opOld Time, who sees her twist and writhe,

pressa ; Soon cuts her fetters with his scythe; Il Tempo le si appressa, Proud of her liberty and grace,

E colla falce le divide e spezza; The nymph Love meets and quick accosts; A lei, ch'esulta allor lieta e felice, Holding a niirror to her face,

Di nuovo Amor si accosta; Behold, he cries, what freedom costs. Le presenta uno specchio, e poi le


Guarda la libertà quanto ti costa. LOVE TURNED PAINTER.

AMORE PITTORE. One day, dear Sarah, with surprise,

Un dì sorpreso, o Fille, I marked young love in busy mood; Vidi Amor fanciulletto, His bandage stripped from off his eyes, Che, squarciata la benda alle pupille, Before a frame he painting stood :

Pingeva attento innanzi al cavalletto: But when I came a step more near

Ma quando mi appressai To view the youthful limner's art,

Al Pittore novello, Judge of my wonder and my fear;

Doppiamente sorpreso rimirai, His pencil was a pointed dart,

Che un dardo era il pennello, The canvass my poor naked heart ;

La tela era il mio core, Where, lo! thy lovely traits appear

E la tua imago dipingeva Amore.

C. C.



Where lives the Soul of song ?
Dwells it amid the city's festive halls ?
Where crowd the eager throng,
Or where the wanderer's silent footstep falls ?
Loves it the gay saloon,
Where wine and dances steal away the night,
And bright as summer noon
Burns round the pictured walls a blaze of light?
Seeks it the public square,
When victory hails the people's chosen son,
And loud applauses there
From lip to lip in emulous greetings run ?
Dwells it amid the host,
Who bear their crimson banners waying high ;
Whose first and only boast
Draws tears of anguish from the patriot's eye?

Follows it on the path,
Where the proud conqueror marches to his home,
And wearied of his wrath
Smiles as he steps beneath the imperial dome?
No-not in festive halls,
In crowded marts, nor in the gay saloon ;
Not in the forum falls,
Nor on the conquering host, the gracious boon:
But where blue mountains rise
Silent and calm amid the upper air,
And pure and cloudless skies
Bend o'er a world, that lies below as fair;

But where uncultured plains
Spread far and wide their beds of grass and flowers,
And heaven's bright pencil stains
Clear gems that roll away

in silent showers;
But in the depth of woods,
Where the slant sunbeam gilds the hoary trees,
And the soft voice of floods
Glides on the pinions of the evening breeze ;
But in the broken dell,
Where the cripsed ivy curls its tangled vines,
And the wild blossom's bell
Drops with the dew, that in its hollow shines;
But in the gulfy cave,
Where pours the cascade from the glacier's height,
And all its waters wave,
Like rainbows, in their luxury of light;
There dwells the Soul of song,
It flies not to the city's festive halls
But loves to steal along,
Where the lone wanderer's silent footstep falls.



Fui et nihil amplius.

The wars of Saladine are ended;
Half Asia's sons in bondage sleep;
And few are left that e'er offended,
And fewer still that do not weep.
No foe is left his sword to try on;
O’er the wide East he reigns alone,
For Guy is dead, and Cæur de Lion
Re-occupies his British throne.

Now tired of war, with havock sated,
And rich with battle's glorious spoil ;
The ship of state with daggers freighted,
Its chief unfit for further toil.
He, knowing that his reign is over,
That death's cold hand is o'er him flung,
Calls to his tent the desert-rover,
And bids these warning words be sung.
“I Saladine, long Asia's wonder,
Lord of the land where Nilus flows;
Whose word went forth arrayed in thunder,
Who fed his crocodiles on foes;
Now being aged, my sinews failing,
And weakness creeping through my bones,
Leave these few words to conquerors sailing
O’er seas of blood to short-lived thrones.
“Of birth and parentage most lowly,
I came Noureddin's troops to lead ;
And ere I warred against the unholy,
I grasped the sceptre of his seed.
Ye know my deeds, by fame recorded,
My power and valour stand confessed,
But know, the realms o'er which I lorded
Like mountains lie upon my breast.
“Why came, ye'll ask, regret unto him?
Mourn hunters when they win the game ?
Why crept the chill of horror through him?
What grieved, since he had won him fame?
Ye 'll not talk thus, when ye are jaded
With toils of war, and youth has flown;
Ye 'll not ask why, when ye have waded
Through blood and carnage to a throne.
“ But ye will ask why the red torrent
At all rushed from the battle field;
And ye shall seek but find no warrant
For the stained cimiter and shield.
Nought shall the fame on which ye prided
Avail you in the dying hour;
Then could ye see your realms divided,
So ye were free from Eblis' power.
"Now wherefore does the soldier cherish
His thirst, unsated and uncloyed ?
Reckless he sees whole nations perish,
And none repeopling the void.
What gains he by his deeds of violence ?
By blossoms cropt like flowers by frost ?
A rood of land :

:-a little while hence He goes to count its awful cost.

[blocks in formation]

It was stated in a New York Paper a short time since that the Moon was nearer the Earth at the present time than it has been for 500 years previous. The following lines were suggested by the fact.

Mild Queen of light and loveliness,
I hail thy nearer smile; for thou
Dost love with thy chaste look to bless
The stricken heart;-and even now
While I am gazing on thy face,
I feel the cooling tears come stealing,
As if they knew thy light should chase
Away the shades of tearless feeling.
Why comest thou, with that sweet smile
Of eloquence, so near us now,
Gazing with thy calm look the while,
As if our world were pure as thou,
And thou did'st love to gaze and dwell
Upon our path, as we on thee?
Perhaps thou’rt sad, and there's a spell
Of soothing in our sympathy;
Or haply thou art come to bring
The weary ones of earth away,
And I should be with thee a-wing,
Unshrouded from these robes of clay.
Canst thou not send some minister
Of thy pavilion down, to lead
My spirit where thy chariots are,
When from its earthiness 't is freed ?
I long to stretch my flight away,
My pinion's plumage fades beneath
The dampness of this weight of clay-
’T would brighten at the touch of death;
And with the flood of hope and feeling
Which mingles in thy silver light
Pour'd on my soul, and thy revealing
To make my aery vesture bright,
Oh I would wing it up with thee
To the pure source of light and love,
And sweep my lyre eternally
To the sweet airs they sing above.



Westminster Review for April, 1825. The first article in this number treats of the “ Law of Libel and Liberty of the Press.” It contains much ingenious reasoning which our limits will not permit us to analyze, in support of the following positions, which the reviewers, in conclusion, consider as fully established :

" That the law of England, as delivered by its authorized interpreters, the judges, however earnestly the saine judges may occasionally disavow this doctrine, prohibits all unfavourable representation with respect to institutions, and with respect to the government and its acts: and, consequently, that if any freedom of discussion is permitted to exist, it is only because it cannot be repressed; the reason why it cannot be repressed, being, the dread of public opinion.”

The greater part of the reasoning of course relates to public libels. The following extract exhibits the opinion of the reviewers concerning private libels.

“ In most law books, if we look for a definition of libel, we find nothing but a fiction. Libel is punishable, we are there told, because it tends to provoke a breach of the peace. The person libelled, may, out of resentment, commit the crime of assault against his accuser; it is fit, therefore, that the law should extend its protecting shield over the libeller, and save him from the chance of a broken head, by inflictiug upon him a year's imprisonment. A tweak by the nose, according to this doctrine, should be more criminal than any libel, for it is certainly far more likely to provoke the species of retaliation alluded to. Miserable as this fiction is, it has served as a foundation to lawyers for building up the excellent law maxim, the greater the truth, the greater the libel.' A bad man, it is alleged, is more easily provoked than a good man! and a true accusation, being usually more cutting than a false one, exposes the accuser to a greater hazard of being knocked down!

« « One might almost as reasonably contend,' says Mr Mence, that it ought to be criminal in point of law for any person to carry money about him, lest it should tempt some scoundrel to pick his pocket or knock his brains out. The punishment in such a case, as the law now stands, would fall upon the thief, instead of the templer. And the peace would be at least as well secured, and the interests of morality much better consulted, in cases of alleged libel, by punishing not the man who exposes vice and holds it up to deserved infamy; but the man whose vicious conduct is exposed, and who to his crimes has added the farther crime of braving the disgrace, and committing violence upon the person who may justly and meritoriously have exposed him.'

“The reader may be curious to learn for what purpose this ludicrous fiction was invented. The purpose was to render libel a penal offence, instead of being merely a civil injury. Had it been classed among private offences, under the head of injuries to reputation, it would have been necessary to prove, in the first place, that an injury had really

« AnteriorContinuar »