THE ROSE'S PETITION.

TO MISS-----.

(From MSS.unpublished, of the late Peter Pindar.)

A beauteous maid, to pluck my stem forbear,

And let me reign the mistress of the grove.
How hard to place me near that breast, more fair
Than ever yet hath left the hand of love.

Where now I flourish, I can boast a fame,
But midst thy bosom, who will mark the flow'r?
There shall I vanquish'd hang the head with shame,
And lose of pleasing all the envied power.

Though queen of all those flowers that bloom around,
How small, alas! the sphere in which I shine.
Behold those vales my little empire bound!
But lo! a wondering universe is thine.

SONNET.

(From the same.)

AGAIN the blushful May returns
And gilds with smiling suns the grove ;
Again amid the varied lay,
The linnets pour the soul of love.

Thy triumph, gentle May, I hail,
O'er winter's blast and chilling snow.
May song unceasing charm thy shade:
Thy breeze with sweets forever blow.
Yet what 10 him thy zephyr's wing.
Tho' all the fragrant East it bears-
Or what to him the golden hour,
Who counts the moments by his tears?

When hope forsakes the love-torn heart,
Away the faithless pleasures fly;
And midst its silence nought is heard
But sorrow's solitary sigh.

INVOCATION TO SLEEP.
(From the same.)

O SLEEP, thy gentle hand in vain
Would lull the storm that rends my breast:
Night hears my slumb❜ring voice complain.
And spectres mark my soul unblest.

With grief I haunt, from hill to hill,
The fair, the cruel flying maid:
Now by the rivulet's plaintive rill,
And now amid the lonely shade.

Unhappy thus I pour my tears:

With hopeless heart her charms pursue :
Thus even in dreams she false appears,
And morning proves the vision true.

HYMN.

(From Milman's Fall of Jerusalem,

EVEN thus amid thy pride and luxury,
Oh Earth! shall that last coming burst on thee,
That secret coming of the Son of Man.
When all the cherub-thronging clouds shall shine,
Irradiate with his bright advancing sign:

When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away: Still to the noontide of that nightless day,

Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain
Along the busy mart and crowded street,
The buyer and the seller still shall meet,

And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain :
Still to the pouring out the Cup of Woe;
Till Earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro,
And mountains molten by his burning feet,
And Heaven his presence own, all red with furnars
heat.

The hundred-gated Cities then,
The towers and temples nam'd of men
Eternal, and the thrones of Kings;
The gilded summer palaces,

The courtly bowers of love and ease,
Where still the bird of pleasure sings,
Ask ye the destiny of them?
Go gaze on fallen Jerusalem!

Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll,

Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurï'é, 'The skies are shrivelled like a burning scroll,

And the vast common doom ensepulchres the well. Oh! who shall then survive?

Oh! who shall stand and live?

When all that hath been, is no more:

When for the round earth hung in air,
With all its constellations fair

In the sky's azure canopy;

When for the breathing earth, and sparkling sea,
Is but a fiery deluge without shore,
Heaving along the abyss profound and dark,
A fiery deluge, and without an ark.

Lord of all power, when thou art there alone
On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne,
That in its high meridian noon

Needs not the perish'd sun nor moon:
When thou art there in thy presiding state,

Wide-sceptred Monarch o'er the realm of doom: When from the sea depths, from Earth's darkest womb,

The dead of all the ages round thee wait:
And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn
Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire:
Faithful and true! thou wilt save thine own!

The saints shall dwell within th' unharming fire, Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm, Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side.

So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic bride,
Sit on the stormy gulf a haleyon bird of calm.
Yes, 'mid yon angry and destroying signs,
O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines,
We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam,
Almighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem !

On th

ME

TIVE LINES.

the late venerable President of the Royal Academy.

ELL belov'd and honour'd West!-farewell,

Benignant being! whose indulgent smile
And gentle bearings, linger on my heart,
With such a sweet attraction, I forget,
In this yet early hour, all other claims
Of sorrow for thy loss. Thou wert a man,
In whom the elements so kindly blent,
That genius, whose all potent fires too oft
Consume the milder qualities of mind,
In lighting up its prouder attributes,
Attemper'd thine alone with lucid beams,
And flung their radiance with no niggard band,
Thro' every path of life--dear were the hours
Thy social converse gave, and rich the stores
Accumulated long, which talent, taste,
Investigation deep, and thought profound,
Findt reasured in thy mind. Age had not chill'd
Thy genuine sensibility, nor care,

That upas of the soul, impair'd its powers:

Still could'st thou mourn the fluttering dove's* distress,

Which struck thy heart in boyhood's ardent hour,
(And on thy latest canvas claims a sigh.)
And still with eye new lit, and quiv'ring lip,
Could'st dwell upon thy mother's rapturous kiss,

• When Mr. West was very young he had attained great skill in the use of the bow and arrow, and was one day upfortunately successful in bringing down a dove, at which he aimed, rather in the thoughtlessness of play than design. The mournings of its widowed mate made an impression on his mind which was never erased, and occasioned him frequently to introduce the dove in his pictures. The simplicity and feeling he displayed in relating this and many other inci dents of his early life, will never be forgotten by those who heard them; for cold indeed must be the heart which did not sympathise with sensibility so unaffectand so closely allied to the highest energies of in

ct.

When thy first powers burst on her gladden'd sense,
And hail'd her parent to a son of Fame.

Seldom alas! in a heart-hardening world,
So full of buffetings, so prone to lures
Of wild ambition, avarice, envy, strife,

Do such sweet nestlings of the youthful heart,
(Spring tinctur'd, soft humanities of life)
Retain their hallow'd forms-where cherish'd thus,
As in a home congenial, virtue dwells;

Arkl thus she dwelt with thee, lamented one.—
Powers like thine own shall paint the artist's fame,
Thy genius, talents, industry and toil;
Thy patient labour mounting to the goal
By steps of noble daring-trace with joy
Thy young imagination's flowery field,
Maturer judgment, and experience sage;
Thy power to charm the eye, to melt the heart,
Recall from Time's vast deep the vanish'd forms
Of patriots, heroes, martyrs, and e'en Him
Whom Deity enshrin'd-our suffering Lord.
The gifted bard exultingly may point
To dying Wolfe, to Scotland's Royal Hunt,
Calypso's mien majestick, Pharaoh's rage,
The den of dark Despair, the widow'd love

Of great Germanicus, proud India's pompous train,
Boyne's battled surge, great Edward's regal rites;
The mercies and the sacrifice of Him

Who is the king of kings ;-but not for me
Is such high task decreed.-I but presume
To drop with trembling hand and tearful eye,
A flowret from the wild heath's russet bed,
Upon the tomb of him rever'd in life,
And lov'd beyond the grave.

LONDON INTELLIGENCE.
June 1820.

"THE ABBOT," which is a sequel to the novel of the Monastery, has we understand, made considerable progress under the printer's hands. These celebrated novels are quite the rage at Paris at present. “The Heart of Mid-Lothian" has been translated into French, under the title of " Les Prisons d'Edinboro."

Mrs. Kean accompanies Mr. Kean to America---they sail early in September, with Mr. Price, the manager of the New York theatre. Mr. Kean intends to make a complete professional tour through the United States.

Mr. Barry Cornwall has published a new poem, in 3 parts, called MARCIAN COLONNA; with Dramatic Sketches, and other poems.

The second volume of Mr. Hogg's Jacobite Relics is in the press.

Rosamond, a Sequel to Early Lessons. By Miss Edgeworth. 2 vols.

The Prophecy of Dante, a poem, by Lord Byron.

Isabel, a tale, by Charles Lloyd.

Mr. Croly, the author of the noble poem of Paris, is about to publish a poem in the Spencer stanza, entitled The Angel of the World, founded on the celebrated stay of Haruth and Maruth, told by Mahomet, as a warning against the dangers of wine. The angel delegated to rule the earth, is tempted by a spirit sent to try his virtue, and is undone. The poem abounds in descriptions of the more splendid phenomena of earth and air in the east. The scene of the temptation is placed in view of Damascus, the rose and wonder of Asia.

IXTEEN years' residence in the country, has stored the author's mind with a fund of interesting intelligence; and we do not dislike the desultory form in which he has poured it out in this volume. The charm of variety is undoubtedly great; and when it is thrown over matter intrinsically good, he must be a sour critic indeed who can resist being highly pleased with the treat. For such we thank Mr. Jackson, to whom for this week we shall only become debtor for a few miscellaneous extracts from the division of lighter character, entitled "Fragments, Notes, and Anecdotes," and leaving the graver considerations of commerce, civilization, &c. to a future opportunity.

"The study of the language and customs of the Arabs is the best comment upon the Old Testament.-The language of the modern Jews is little to be regarded; their dispersion into various nations, having no fixed habitation, being wholly addicted to their own interest, their conformation to the respective customs of the various na

An Account of Timbuctoo and Housa, &c. By El Hage Abd Salam Shabeeny; with Notes, critical

. and explanatory. To which is added, Letters des

criptive of Travels through West and South Barbary, and across the Mountains of Atlas, &c. &c. By

James Grey Jackson.

2Y ATHENEUM VOL. 7.

tions through which they are dispersed; have caused them, in a great measure, to forget their ancient customs and original language, except what is preserved in the Bible and in the exercise of their religion. Whereas the Arabs have continued in the constant possession of their country many cen turies, and are so tenacious of their customs and habits, that they are, at this day, the same men they were three thousand years ago. Accordingly many of their customs, at this day, remind us of what happened among their ancestors in the days of Abraham."

"Timbuctoo coffee.-Coffee grows spontaneously in the vicinage of Timbuctoo, south of the Nile Elabeed. I sent a quantity to Mr. James Willis, formerly Consul for Senegambia: it was of a bitter taste, which is the general character of this grain before it is improved by cultivation."

"Sand Baths.-The Arabs bury the body erect in sand, up to the chin, as a remedy for several disorders, particularly syphilis."

"Moral Justice. The imperial army being encamped in Temsena, on the confines of Tedla, an Arab chieftain found that a friend of the emperor came into his keymu* at night, and

* Keyma is the name for an Arab's tent; they are made of goat's hair, and are black.