Pursue the track thy ardent genius shows,
That like the sun illumines where it goes;
Travel the various map of Science o'er,
Record past wonders, and discover more;
Pour thy free spirit o'er the breathing page,
And wake the virtue of a careless age.
But O forgive, if touched with fond regret
Fancy recalls the scenes she can't forget,

Recalls the vacant smile, the social hours

Which charmed us once, for once those scenes were ours!

And while thy praises through wide realms extend,

We sit in shades, and mourn the absent friend.

So where the' impetuous river sweeps the plain,

Itself a sea, and rushes to the main;

While its firm banks repel conflicting tides,

And stately on its breast the vessel glides ;

Admiring much the shepherd stands to gaze,
Awe-struck, and mingling wonder with his praise :
Yet more he loves its winding path to trace

Through beds of flowers, and Nature's rural face,

While yet a stream the silent vale it cheered, By many a recollected scene endeared,

Where trembling first beneath the poplar shade

He tuned his pipe, to suit the wild cascade.

AN INVENTORY OF THE FURNITURE IN DR. PRIESTLEY'S STUDY.

A MAP of every country known,
With not a foot of land his own.

A list of folks that kicked a dust

On this poor globe, from Ptol. the First;

He hopes, indeed it is but fair,

Some day to get a corner there.

A group of all the British kings,

Fair emblem! on a packthread swings.

The Fathers, ranged in goodly row,

A decent, venerable show,

Writ a great while ago, they tell us,

And many an inch o'ertop their fellows.

A Juvenal to hunt for mottos ;

And Ovid's tales of nymphs and grottos.

The meek-robed lawyers, all in white;

Pure as the lamb,—at least, to sight.
A shelf of bottles, jar and phial,

By which the rogues he can defy all,—
All filled with lightning keen and genuine,
And many a little imp he'll pen you in;
Which, like Le Sage's sprite, let out,

Among the neighbours makes a rout;

Brings down the lightning on their houses,
And kills their geese, and frights their spouses.

A rare thermometer, by which

He settles, to the nicest pitch,

The just degrees of heat, to raise
Sermons, or politics, or plays.

Papers and books, a strange mixed olio,

From shilling touch to pompous folio;

Answer, remark, reply, rejoinder,

Fresh from the mint, all stamped and coined here;

Like new-made glass, set by to cool,

Before it bears the workman's tool.

A blotted proof-sheet, wet from Bowling. →
-“How can a man his anger hold in?"-
Forgotten rimes, and college themes,
Worm-eaten plans, and embryo schemes ;-
A mass of heterogeneous matter,

A chaos dark, nor land nor water;

New books, like new-born infants, stand,

Waiting the printer's clothing hand ;
Others, a motley ragged brood,

Their limbs unfashioned all, and rude,
Like Cadmus' half-formed men appear;
One rears a helm, one lifts a spear,
And feet were lopped and fingers torn
Before their fellow limbs were born;

A leg began to kick and sprawl
Before the head was seen at all,

Which quiet as a mushroom lay
Till crumbling hillocks gave it way;

Beesting of the