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Then the day!-oh! when radiance is AN EASTERN DAY.
purest of beam,
When the sky is all light, what a heaIn imitation of Thomas Moore, Esq.
ven does it seem! IF the heart ever loves to repose in the Like a calm, sunny islandless ocean dreams
above, Of Paradise, pictured in lowers and Hang the pure chrystal clouds of those beams
regions of love. If the glimpses of bliss, all delight, all Nor does Earth less enchantingly Elysian,
shine-at this hour E'er flashed on the soul in its loveliest The humming-bird shoots from the vision;
tree to the flower; If the spirit partakes of the light it And the beams, ever busy, illume as surveys,
he springs, Its essence compounded of roses and And betray all the topaz and gold of rays;
his wings; With a bonnd, such as Fancy must Whilst the falling of waters-green every where make
rising of hills, When its pulse to new beauties is And the soul-melting odours that sumsweetly awake,
mer distils, To the land let it fly, where true love. Combine all their beauties, and sweetly liness blesses
impart The heart that will haunt her, the A bliss to the eye, and a balm to the smile that caresses !
heart. "Tis the clime of the East ! Oh! how And the evening :-how beauteous bright to behold
when brilliancy dies All the mildness of morning now melt in a milder luxuriance o’er Easterly into gold !
skies, Each shadowy tint that the night left To behold the sweet pillow on which behind,
it reposes Now brightens, like Hope, on the fears in the west, tinged with lilies halfof mankind;
mingled with roses. And the daylight is hailed by the Like the soft shining maid that is lannightingale's hymn,
guidly stealing And the purple pomegranate looks All the ore of the heart, in th' endarkly and dim;
chantment of feeling; The camel, just roused, now awakes So the calmness of evening, more tenfrom the delis,
derly glows, Whilst Echo repeats his light tinkling Than the radiance of pomp that a dayof bells :
beam bestows, And the Jessamine odours that rise Oh, how lovely looks light' and its from the bowers,
shadows how tender, And the hues of new beauty, all glow- When fades into twilight this farewell ing in flowers,
of splendor ! All breathe, and all smile, as if they Like the music that fancy will oftenhad been born
times hear, To welcome, in bliss, the delights of In her dreams of delight, indistinctly the morn.
So the whispers of melody=far, far Snowy-neck'd Maid ! to thy couch I away,
Awake not! -awake not!-be genSeem to hymn with wild strains the
tle my tread! departure of day.
A world I would give to behold thee,
With the wreath of sweet roses that The gleams are now glancing from
blush 'round thy head. domes of Semars In the quick, twinkling motion that I will cut me a lock from the beautiful plays upon stars :
Which shade the wide arch of thine And the pilgrim his beads at this holy
ivory brow; hour counts,
I will breathe on thy warm cheek my In the cool cedar groves, where the
silent caresses, Hyaline founts
For who would awaken thy lovliness
now! Through beds of pure amber roll mellowly on,
I will gaze on the silky-lash'd eyelids In a sweet pensive murmur,
that cover daylight is gone;
The stars, which in innocence slum
ber beneath, And beauteously wild, with their front- And oh! let me tenderly kiss like a lets of pearls,
lover, From their bright mountain homes The lips that are tremblingly ope'd
as you breathe. come the Jessamere girls. Like the flower that till night all its
Snowy-neck'd Maiden! while thus I loveliness keeps,
lean o'er thee, And spreads its perfume, whilst each Thou seem'st as the bride of some
angel above, other one sleeps ;
And oh! if a spirit so pure could aSo the young Indian maids to the
dore thee, evening's gay duties,
Say not 'tis a crime that a mortal
should love. Spring forward at once in a line of
young beauties, And reveal, now and then, in the mirth of their dances,
Eyigram. The visions of love in the light of their glances ;
(From the New Monthly Magazine.) Whilst the timbre), and tabor, and nightingale's song,
ADDRESSED TO MISS EDGEWORTH. Join Echo's wild melody all the night long.
We every-day Bards may “Anony
mous” sign : That refuge-Miss Edgeworth-can
never be thine: ON A YOUNG LADY SLEEPING. Thy writings, where satire and moral
unite, Snowy-neck'd Maiden ! how still are Must bring forth the name of their au
thy slumbers, How sweet are the visions that steal
thor to light. o'er thy rest!
Good and bad join in telling the source Thou sleep'st like a bird, when war. of their birth,
bling numbers Have ceased, and its head hangs re.
The bad own their Edge and the good clined on its breast.
own their worth.
To the Editor of the Orford Enter. When Jove his vengeance hur”d on
Phrygia's shore, taining Miscelluny.
(Her tow'rs, her glory, and her race SIR,—I have selected the fol
no more!) lowing from my Scrap Book, and Revolving time now brought the desshall feel obliged by your insert
tin'd hour ing it in your Miscellany.
To god-built Ilion, and the Phrygian
Lo time fulfils the mandate of the Ten different modes of rendering skies,
into English verse the three first And sacred Troy in smoking ruin lies! lines of the 3rd book of the
To the Editor of the Oxford Entertere gentem,
taining Miseelluny. Immeritam visum superis, ceciditque
Perhaps some of your ingenious
Correspondents may feel disposed When Priam's line celestial vengeance found,
to satisfy my curiosity by answerAnd Troy's proud walls lay smoking ing the following Query, if you on the ground.
will allow it a place in your EnterWhen hostile gods o’erthrew the Phry- taining Miscellany; by doing gian state,
which, you will greatly oblige, And Priam's house submitted to its fate.
Sir, When heav'n o'erthrew old Priam's
Your well-wisher, perjur'd line, And llion's tow'rs—uprais'd by hands
A QUERIST. divine,
Oxford, When heav'n's dread Sire o'erwhelm'd
June 12, 1824. the Phrygian throne, And Troy tay prostrate, all her glo Query. Whether a contempt
of fame, or a desire to be spoken When Troy, by heav'n's high synod well of, generally characterisas was decreed
the man of sense ? To fall, and Priam's perjur'd race to
bleed. When Priam's house the price of sin TO A CORRESPONDENT.
had paid, And Ilion's glories in the dust were
We beg to acknowledge the receipt. laid.
of ACADEMICUS's Letter.
obliged to him for his encomiums and When Troy, abandon'd by celestial
shall be happy to receive his propow'rs,
mised favours. Laid in the dust her venerable tow'rs. No. 2, Vol. I. June 16, 1824,
[Printed aud Published by F. Trash, Oxford
unabated ardour by the people, MEMOIRS OF SHAKSPEARE.
and are still read with animation It seems to be a kind of respect by the scholar. They interest the due to the memory of excellent
old and the young, the gallery and men, especially of those whom the pit, the people and the critic. their wit and learning have made at their representation the appefamous, to deliver some account tite is never palled-expectation of themselves, as well as their never disappointed. The changes works, to posterity. For this
of fashion have not cast him into reason, how fond do we see some the shades; the variations of lanpeople of discovering any little
guage have not rendered him obpersonal story of the great men solete. of antiquity! their families, the
“Each change of many-colour'd life common accidents of their lives,
he drew, and even their shape, make, and Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd features, have been the subject of new; critical inquiries. How trifling Existence saw him spurn her bounded soever this curiosity may seem to
reign, be, it is certainly very natural; And panting time toild after him in
vain; and we are hardly satisfied with
His powerful strokes presiding truth an account of any remarkable
impress'd, person, till we have heard him And unresisted passion storm'd the described even to the very clothes
breast.” he wears.
As for what relates to William Shakspeare was the men of letters, the knowledge of son of Mr. John Shakspeare, and an author may sometimes conduce was born at Stratford-on-Avon, in to the better understanding his Warwickshire, in April, 1564. book ; and though the works of His father, who was a considerable Shakspeare may seem to many dealer in wool, had so large a not to want a comment, yet we family, ten children in all, that fancy some little account of this though he was his eldest son, he great man may not be thought could give him no better educa uninteresting.
tion than his own employment. If ever there was a man born He had bred him, it is true, for for immortality, it was William some time at a free school, where, Shakspeare. He was, indeed, it is probable, he acquired what “not for an age, but for all time." Latin he was master of : but, the The author of thirty-six plays, of narrowness of his circumstances, which not fewer than twenty-two and the want of his assistance at are still favourites with the age; home, forced his father to withhis dramas, after a lapse of two draw him from thence, and uncenturies, are still witnessed with happily prevented his further proa
ficiency in that language. It is fallen into ill company, and a. without controversy, that in his mongst them, some, that made a works we scarce find traces of frequent practice of deer-stealing, any thing that looks like an imi- engaged him more than once in tation of the ancients. Whether robbing a park that belonged to his ignorance of the ancients were Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlecote, a disadvantage to him or no, may near Stratford. For this he was admit of a dispute : for, though prosecuted by that gentleman, as the knowledge of them might have he thought, somewhat too severemade him more correct, yet, it is ly; and, in order to revenge that not improbable, but that the regu- ill usage, he made a ballad upon larity and deference for them, him. It is at this time, and upon which would have attended that this accident, that he is said to correctness, might have restrained have made his first acquaintance some of that fire, impetuosity, and in the playhouse. He was received even beautiful extravagance, which into the company then in being, we admire in Shakspeare. at first in a very mean rank, but
Upon his leaving school, he his admirable wit, and the natural seems to have given entirely into turn of it to the stage, soon disthat way of living which his fa- tinguished him, if not as an extrather proposed to him; and, in or- ordinary actor, yet as an excellent der to settle in the world after a writer. Whatever the particular family manner, he thought fit to times of his writing were, the marry while he was yet very people of his age, who began to young. His wife was the daugh- grow wonderfully fond of diversiter of one Hathaway, said to have ons of this kind, could not but be been a substantial yeoman in the highly pleased to see a genius neighbourhood of Stratford.
In arise amongst them of so pleasurathis kind of settlement he conti - ble, so rich a vein, and so plentinued for some time, till an extra- fully capable of furnishing their vagance that he was guilty of favourite entertainments. Besides forced him both out of his coun- the advantages of his wit, he was try, and that way of living which in himself a good-natured man, of he had taken up; and though it great sweetness in his manners, seemed at first to be a blemish and a most agreeable companion ; upon his good manners, and a so that it is no wonder, if, with misfortune to him, yet it happily so many good qualities, he made proved the occasion of exerting himself acquainted with the best one of the greatest geniuses that conversations of those times.
known in dramatic Queen Elizabeth had several of poetry. He had, by a misfortune his plays acted before her; and, common enough to young fellows, without doubt, gave him many