Lusiad, and author of the ballad Cumnor Hall); Armstrong; Dr. John Langhorne; Dr. Thomas Percy; Michael Bruce; the two Wartons; Dr. Blacklock (the blind poet); Glover, etc. The tragic dramatists are Moore, Home, Mason, Mallet, etc. A longer catalogue adorns the literature of comedy; of these Sheridan and the Colmans are the most distinguished names.]

REV. JAMES GRAHAME.
(1765-1811.)

JAMES GRAHAME exchanged the profession of a Scottish barrister for that of a curate in the Church of England. Amiable, modest, pious, and assiduous in his ecclesiastical ministrations, he was deeply regretted on his death in Scotland in 1811. His poetry consists of a drama, "Mary Queen of Scots ;" "The Sabbath," with which his name is chiefly associated; "The Birds of Scotland," "British Georgics," etc. writing is moulded on that of Cowper, full of Scottish associations, earnest and beautiful in spirit. It is, however, somewhat deficient in compactness and harmony of numbers.

THE SCOTTISH SABBATH SERVICE.

SOLEMN the knell, from yonder ancient pile,
Fills all the air, inspiring joyful awe :

Slowly the throng moves o'er the tomb paved ground;
The aged man, the bowed down, the blind

Led by the thoughtless boy, and he who breathes

With pain, and eyes the new-made grave well pleased;
These, mingled with the young, the gay, approach
The house of God; these spite of all their ills,
A glow of freshness feel; with silent praise
They enter in. A placid stillness reigns,
Until the man of God-worthy the name-
Arise and read the anointed Shepherd's lays.
His locks of snow, his brow serene,-his look
Of love, it speaks, “Ye are my children all;
The grey-haired man, leaning upon his staff,
As well as he, the giddy child, whose eye
Pursues the swallow flitting 'thwart the dome."
Loud swells the song: oh how that simple song,
Though rudely chaunted, how it melts the heart,
Commingling soul with soul in one full tide
Of praise, of thankfulness, of humble trust!
Next comes the unpremeditated prayer,
Breathed from the inmost heart, in accents low,
But earnest.-Alter'd is the tone; to man
Are now address'd the sacred speaker's words:
Instruction, admonition, comfort, peace,
Flow from his tongue: oh chief let comfort flow!
It is most wanted in this vale of tears:

His

THE SABBATH OF WAR.

Yes, make the widow's heart to sing for joy;
The stranger to discern the Almighty's shield
Held o'er his friendless head; the orphan child
Feel, 'mid his tears, "I have a father still."

THE SABBATH SERVICE OF THE SHEPHERD BOY.

In some lone glen, where every sound is lull'd
To slumber, save the tinkling of the rill,
Or bleat of lamb, or hovering falcon's cry,
Stretched on the sward, he reads of Jesse's son ;
Or sheds a tear o'er him to Egypt sold,

And wonders why he weeps; the volume closed,
With thyme-sprig laid between the leaves, he sings
The sacred lays, his weekly lesson, conn'd
With meikle care beneath the lowly roof,

Where humble lore is learn'd, while humble worth
Pines unrewarded in a thankless state.
Thus reading, hymning, all alone, unseen,
The shepherd boy the Sabbath holy keeps.

THE SABBATH OF WAR.

Of all the murderous trades by mortals plied,
'Tis war alone that never violates

The hallowed day by simulant respect,
By hypocritic rest: no, no, the work proceeds.
From sacred pinnacles are hung the flags

That give the sign to slip the leash for slaughter.1
The bells, whose knoll a holy calmness pour'd
Into the good man's breast, whose sound solaced
The sick, the poor, the old-perversion dire-

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Pealing with sulphurous tongue, speak death-fraught words:"
From morn to eve destruction revels frenzied,
Till, at the hour when peaceful vesper-chimes
Were wont to soothe the ear, the trumpet sounds
Pursuit and flight altern; and, for the song

Of larks, descending to their grass-bower'd homes,
The croak of flesh-gorged ravens, as they slake
Their thirst in hoof-prints filled with gore, disturbs
The stupor of the dying man: while Death
Triumphantly sails down the ensanguined stream,
On corses throned, and crown'd with shiver'd boughs,
That erst hung imaged in the crystal tide.3

1 "Church steeples are frequently used as signal posts." Slip the leash; comp.— "I see you stand, like greyhounds in the slips,

Straining upon the start."-Shakesp. Hen. v., Act iii. Sc. 3.

"Let slip the dogs of war."-Julius Cæsar, Act iii. Sc. 1..

2 Alluding to church bells melted for French cannon.

8 "After a heavy cannonade, the shivered branches of trees, and the corpses of

the killed, are seen floating together down the rivers."

Q

SCOTTISH SABBATH EVENING PICTURE.

Oh Scotland! much I love thy tranquil dales;
But most on Sabbath eve, when low the sun
Slants through the upland copse; 'tis my delight,
Wandering and stopping oft, to hear the song
Of kindred praise arise from humble roofs;
Or, when the simple service ends, to hear
The lifted latch, and mark the gray-hair'd man,
The father and the priest, walk forth alone
Into his garden plat, or little field,

To commune with his God in secret prayer,—
To bless the Lord that, in his downward years,
His children are about him: sweet, meantime,
The thrush, that sings upon the aged thorn,
Brings to his view the days of youthful years,
When that same aged thorn was but a bush.
Nor is the contrast between youth and age
To him a painful thought; he joys to think
His journey near a close-Heaven is his home,

SAMUEL ROGERS.

(1763-1855).

He

MR. ROGERS was brought up as a clerk in his father's banking-house in London, and afterwards inherited a large share of the business. soon, however, ceased to take an active part in the bank, and gave himself up to the study of literature and art. Mr. Rogers, during his long life, was always the judicious and generous patron of struggling genius. His larger works are, The Pleasures of Memory," ""Human Life," "Columbus," and "Italy." His writings are remarkable for elegance of diction, purity of taste, and beauty of sentiment. publications range from 1786 to 1822.

FROM PLEASURES OF MEMORY.

POWER OF THE CHARM OF EARLY ASSOCIATIONS.
ASK not if courts or camps dissolve the charm:
Say why Vespasian1 loved his Sabine farm?

Why great Navarre,2 when France and freedom bled,
Sought the lone limits of a forest shed?

His

1 "This emperor, according to Suetonius, constantly passed the summer in a small villa near Reate, where he was born, and to which he would never add any embellishment; ne quid scilicet oculorum consuetudini deperiret "-Suet. in Vit. Vesp., c. ii.— See Author's note, where many other examples will be found.

2 "Henry IV. of France made an excursion from his camp, during the siege of Laon, to dine at a house in the forest of Folambray, where he had often been regaled when a boy with fruit, milk, and new cheese."-Mém. de Sully.-Author's note.

FROM HUMAN LIFE.

When Diocletian's1 self-corrected mind
The imperial fasces of a world resign'd;
Say why we trace the labours of his spade
In calm Salona's philosophic shade?

Say, when contentious Charles' renounced a throne,
To muse with monks unletter'd and unknown,
What from his soul the parting tribute drew,
What claim'd the sorrows of a last adieu?
The still retreats that soothed his tranquil breast
Ere grandeur dazzled, and its cares oppress'd.

FROM HUMAN LIFE.

A MOTHER'S LOVE.

Her, by her smile, how soon the stranger knows ;3
How soon by his the glad discovery shows,
As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,

What answering looks of sympathy and joy!
He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word,
His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard.
And ever, ever to her lap he flies,

When rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise.
Lock'd in her arms, his arms across her flung
(That name most dear for ever on his tongue),
As with soft accents round her neck he clings,
And, cheek to cheek, her lulling song she sings:
How blest to feel the beatings of his heart,
Breathe his sweet breath, and bliss for bliss impart ;
Watch o'er his slumbers like the brooding dove,
And, if she can, exhaust a mother's love!

FROM COLUMBUS.

THE ANGEL TO COLUMBUS IN HIS DREAM.

The wind recalls thee; its still voice obey:
Millions await thy coming; hence, away!
To thee blest tidings of great joy consigned,
Another nature and a new mankind!

The vain to dream, the wise to doubt shall cease;
Young men be glad, and old depart in peace.
Hence! though assembling in the field of air,
Now, in a night of clouds, thy foes* prepare

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1 The Roman emperor Diocletian retired into his native province (Dalmatia), and there amused himself with building, planting, and gardening. His answer to Maxi mian is deservedly celebrated. "If," said he, "I could show him the cabbages which I have planted with my own hands at Salona he would no longer solicit me to return to a throne."-Author's note.

2 Charles V. after his abdication, on his way to his Spanish monastery, stopped at Ghent, his birth-place, to indulge the feelings described in the text.-See Robertson, Book xii. 3 Virg., Eclog. iv.

4 The evil spirits of the storm. The admiral's voyage home was so extremely tem

To rock the globe with elemental wars,
And dash the floods of ocean to the stars;
And bid the meek repine, the valiant weep,
And thee restore thy secret to the deep.

Not then to leave thee! to their vengeance cast
Thy heart their aliment, their dire repast!1

*

*

*

To other eyes shall Mexico unfold

*

Her feather'd tapestries and her roofs of gold:
To other eyes, from distant cliffs descried,
Shall the Pacific roll his ample tide;2
There destined soon rich argosies to ride:
Chains thy reward! beyond the Atlantic wave,
Hung in thy chamber, buried in thy grave !3
Thy reverend form to time and grief a prey;
A phantom wandering in the light of day!

What though thy grey hairs to the dust descend,
Their scent shall track thee, track thee to the end:
Thy sons reproach'd with their great father's fame ;*
And on his world inscribed another's name!
That world a prison-house, full of sights of woe,
Where groans burst forth, and tears in torrents flow ;
Those gardens of the sun, sacred to song,
By dogs of carnage, howling loud and long,
Swept, till the voyager in the desert air
Starts back to hear his alter'd accents there!

Not thine the olive but the sword to bring;

Not peace but war! yet from these shores shall spring
Peace without end; from these, with blood defiled,
Spread the pure spirit of thy Master mild!

Here in his train shall arts and arms attend;
Arts to adorn, and arms, but to defend.
Assembling here all nations shall be blest;
The sad be comforted; the weary rest;
Untouch'd shall drop the fetters from the slave ;
And He shall rule the world He died to save.

Hence, and rejoice. The glorious work is done;
A spark is thrown that shall eclipse the sun!
And, though bad men shall long thy course pursue,
As erst the ravening brood o'er chaos flew,

pestuous, that, in despair, he "committed his secret to the deep :" viz., an account of the discovery enclosed in a cask, in the hope that fortune might convey it to a civilized shore.

1 See Eschylus Eumenid., v. 246.-Columbus was doomed to much subsequent affliction.

2 Cortez was the discoverer and conqueror of Mexico; Balboa of the Pacific.-See Robertson's America.

3 See Robertson, Book ii.; and Washington Irving's Columbus.

4 "There go the sons of him who discovered these fatal countries."-History by Don Ferdinand, the son of Columbus.-Author's note.

The Florentine Amerigo Vespucci.-Robertson.

Bloodhounds were employed by the Spaniards in tracking the "rebel" Indians.