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TRIBUTES TO THE MEMORY OF He aas waked into life ---doubt and hope are no


He has look'd on eternity's pages;
All is awfully true that was fancy before,

And fate lifts the curtain of ages.
LINES ON THE DEATH OF LORD There is one who will ask of his talents their


And judge without error his merits : He sleeps in the land of his earliest dream, Then he who was first in the orders of men, In the scene of his brightest story;

May be last in the kingdom of spirits ! The language that kindled his patriot flame Shrewsbury, May 18, 1824. C.A.HULBERT. Has chanted the dirge of his glory!

Literary Chronicle. And the sons of the heroes of ancient days, O'er the grave of their brother are mourning;

LINES ON THE DEATH OF LORD For he came to their succour, he came for their praise,

BYRON. Like the might of their fathers returning.

LET Britain's muse, in deepest gloom array'd, Oh, his was a spirit, great, gloomy, and dread, Now seek the shore where cold in death is laid

Where Hector and Homer were blended; Her proudest boast---the bard whom fate de. For the cloud of the grave round his brightness sign'd was spread,

With Shakspeare's self to share the human When the flash of his thunder descended.

To stand the foremost on the roll of fame, He haunted the patriot's earliest tomb,

And dignify his country by his name.
And sung like an orphan his sadness ;

Alas! while yet the force of genius tird,
For vainly he look'd o'er the vallies of gloom,
For the heirs of that freedom and gladness!

While purest zeal to noblest deeds aspir'd--

While hope still promis'd fruits of glorious toil He has hallow'd their cause, it has hallow'd his From

patriot conquests on a classic

soil... name,

Has Byron sunk i e'en at the very hour Their fame is embalm'd with his glory; When manhood's prime discloses all its pow'r. E'en the Turk, while he bleeds on his pages Not Britain only shall his fate deplore, with sbame,

But ev'ry land where genius loves to soar ; Immortally lives in their story.

Where souls can feel the full impassion'd glow

Of strains that from the fount of feeling flow. But Britain must mourn with a deeper distress

Yet most of all shall one fair region mourn, And silent and lonely her weeping;

And grace with tears his lone distinctive urn; For who can reply with a soothing address,

That region where immortal heroes woke Like the song of the bard that is sleeping?

A patriot race to break the tyrant's yoke..., Oh, then, let the light of his pages be sought. Where freemen bade proud Persia's legions Let her breathe in his language her sorrow;

trace She cannot be wrung with one anguishing At ev'ry step their ruin and disgrace ; thought,

Where poesy first tun'd the “living lyre,” But there she its language may borro n. To charm the fancy and the soul inspire ;

Where first she led within her sacred shrine The course of his spirit was awfully high,

Maeonides in ecstacy divine, Among the dread regions of thunder;

And taught the world to wonder at his lay, It flash'd through the deep and it ilamed

While raptur'd Greece confess'd the poet's sway. through the sky,--

Ah! yes, that land shall feel in bitter woe It burst every trammel asunder!

So unexpected, so severe a blow; He looked on the world,---it was splendour or And in her conflict with the Moslem host, gloom,

Bewail her greatest, best supporter lost. All midnight or noon, in his mirror:--

A noble impulse urg'd his ardent soul--He search'd heaven and earth, and he rent An impulse which no dangers cou'd control, every tomb,

The cause of Greece to succour and sustain, For the stories of rapture and terror.

To free her from the Saracen's domain,

To crush the crescent, and erect instead Yet think not the soft harp of passion unstrung,

Fair freedom's standard, wheresoe'er he led. In sympathy, sadness, or pleasure ;

But wayward fortune will’d an adverse doom, Like the syren he wept---like the syren he sung,

And now consigns him to an early tomb; With a magical sweetness of nieasure.

Yet shall the laurel, mingled with the bay, The gloom and the tempest would pass from Bloom o'er his grave till time's remotest day. the sphere,

Who shall presume to criticise, or scan, And the landscape bloom lovely and tender; The faults or failings of so great a man? His genius would beam in the dew of a tear, The eye may trace the phases of the moon--Or rise from the ocean in splendour.

What eye can dare the solar disk at noon ?

Morning Herald. But he rests in the chilly embraces of death,

And his soul to its home is taken ; The angel has hush'd the wild strain of his ON READING THE DEATH OF LORD breath,

BYRON. And who shall its slumbers awaken!

Who can refrain a dewy tear to shed,

To see great Byron 'midst the silent dead ? Thus far thrills the harp with a pensive regret, In Grecian bands he took a manly part, Asit tells of its master departed;

And when he died, they cried,---Give us hui But dark with despair for the spirit that's set,

heart, Is the land of the crss broken-hearted!

In manhood's prime he clos'd his bold career, For, oh! that his tears with his song could Friend to the Muses, and to Freedom dear; cease,

0, may his NOBLE spirit hence be flown, That all was an halo of brightness;

T enjoy unvaried bliss, on earth unknown But, ah! he too little has courted that peace,

His brilliant genius, and his patriot toil, For he thought on his MAKER with lightness. Are priz'd in British and in Grecian soil

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And may his magnanimity and real

with Pitt ?' said I to him in a letter, (for Inspire each Greek with love of country's weal. I would an all-wise Deity implore

I had witnessed it ;) but it seems that he To aid the Greeks, though Byron be no more.

had forgotten it. You are mistaken, I Southampton Chronicle. J. D, B. think, (said he in reply ;) it must have

been with Rice-pudding Morgan, or Lord The fowowing Extract froin a Letter Jocelyn, or one of the Douglases, or

written by a School fellow of Lord By- George Raynsford, or Pryce (with whom ron, contains some interesting recol. I had two conflicts) or with Níoses lections of his early life :

Moore (the clod,) or with somebody else, “ I AM almost alarmed when I think how and not with Pitt; for with all the above

named, and other worthies of the fist, many years ago it is since I was sent, a little urchin, to improve my morals and had I an interchange of black eyes and accomplishments at Harrow School. There bloody noses, at various and sundry pewere then, in that commonwealth of leta riods. However, it may have happened,

for all that.” ters, about three hundred sturdy fellows who had roughed the accidents of a public school, and were for the most part LORD BYRON'S OPINION OF diligently pursuing the cause of cricket

THE DRAMA. and football, as a relief to the minor oc

“The characters in a play are never the cupations of the classics. Some of these characters of life. It is impossible that boys have since acquired some reputation they should be, for, after all, who will as men. There was, first, Lord Hard. assert that he is capable of judging exwicke's son (the late Lord Royston,) who actly, still less of drawing that of the was drowned, to the sorrow of his friends, nearest friend whom he sees daily. All who augured very highly of him. There characters on paper must be delineated was the late Duke of Dorset, (a delicate with much of the author's perceptions boy,) the present Duke of Devonshire, rather than the truth. Historical characand a host of Lords beside. Mr. Peel, ters are again doubly-distilled fiction,the now Under-secretary of State, (who the lie of the historian, and the lie of the even then excited great hope,) and his poet. The drama of every writer must secretary, the Hon. George Dawson, and be from his own imagination ; his own his brother Lionel; some of the Drurys, mind must be the glass of the telescope, who are now, I believe, masters there, and if that is dim or cracked, the objects Procter, who has since written verses un.

seen through it will be distorted accord. der another name, as you know; and ingly. But I am such a heretic upon above all the celebrated George Gordon, the English Drama, that I shall merely Lord Byron. I remember the first (Roy. bewilder without explaining my schism. ston) when he gained so much applause I look upon Congreve (whom you menby his recitation of the famous speech of tion) to have drawn comic characters suAntony ; and Dawson, a proud-spirited perior to the other you mention ;* and boy, who reminded me of his youth the that the charge against him of having other day, when he opposed the encroach too much wil, is like that against Pope ments of the clergy at Derry, and his of having too much harmony. There bold and smiling brother Lionel; and can never be too much of that which is Peel, clever and cynical, who made for Intellect, or of that which is Beauty." me a copy of Alcaics, by which I gained a prize, the last line of one stanza being

* Shakspeare.

Lit. Gaz. “ Deserit horrifici barathrum," which is all I remember of the matter.

THE VILLAGE MAIDEN. In regard to the last mentioned, and the most renowned of these Harrow boys, he,

(To the Editor of the Mirror.) though he was lame, was a great lover S1R,—The peculiar species of blank verse of sports, preferred hockey to Horace, which I now present you with, might relinquished even Helicon for duck warrant in its defence a greater share on puddle,' and gave up the best poet that time and paper than I can afford for it, ever wrote hard Latin for a game of cricket and as from your general selection I am on the common. He was not remark- well convinced, that as you neither think able (nor was he ever) for his learning; the presence of rhyme alone the soul of but he was always a clever, plain-spoken poetry, so neither will you, I trust, deny and undaunted boy. I have seen him fight the absence of it as excluding poetic ideas. by the hour like a Trojan, and stand up I may, at some future period, not improagainst the disadvantages of his lameness bably give you a short essay, with exam. with all the spirit of an ancient comba- ples, on the subject ; however, laying his kant. “Don't you remember your battle argument aside, I hope the novelty (and




novelty generally attracts) of it will prove THE RECLUSE OF SARNEN. an excuse for its insertion in the MIRROR, though I should feel sorry if it should SIR,Should the following narrative, give rise to any unfavourable “ reflec- founded on facts, suit the MIKROR, you tions.”_Yours, &c.

are welcome to insert it. ALPHEUS.

I am, Sır,

Your's respectfully, Tell me, fair maiden, whither art thou going ?

March 10, 1824.

N. Why trip so fast o'er the dew-besprinkled mea

duw? Scarce yet the sun, in all his orient beauty,

TRAVELLING through the romantic Silvers the mountains.

country of Switzerland, I stopped one Grey breaks morn's twilight, herald of the day. evening at an ancient monastery of Capu.

chins, situated on the banks of the river Mists that have long since veiled in murky dark. Aa, in the valley of Sarnen, in the canton

of Underwald. Earth's fairest features, night's celestial curtains,

I was surprised to find the gates open, Draw from the vallies.

and the porter not appearing, I entered There, see him rise like wrestler from his slum the ancient walls, and wandered on till bers,

the sound of the solemn chanting of the Fresh and unwearied, all past toils forgetting,

brotherhood guided me to the chapel, Gaily prepared again to journey onward Thro' Heaven's blue ether.

where I arrived in time to witness the

funeral of one of the monks. After the Yet 'tis a slight unknown, unseen by many, But, oh! how rife with glory, pride, and gladness, mournful rites were closed, I introduced When first bright Phæbus from th' expanse of myself to the venerable superiors, who

welcomed me with cordial hospitality, and Slowly resurges !

gave me the following short history of the Glory, and, ah ! like Man's, not evanescent

monk, whose obsequies were celebrating Pride, for it was for man 'twas first created

when I arrived at the convent :--Gladness, for who the while he gazes on it, Feels aught but gladness ?

“He was an Englishman, about 30 years And thou, young maiden, fair in rural beauty,

of age, and had only taken the vows Careless and griefless, self-taught child of na a few months before his decease. After ture,

the usual noviciate, during which time, Dost thou not own a gem, all gems surpassing, by his courteous and obliging manners Yes---forthine is the bosom free from anguish--- and disposition, and his unaffected piety, Free from the cares o'er richer heads that he had gained the hearts of the whole hover-..

community. He was a child of misforFree from the grief that oft-times thorns the tune from his birth, at which period he pillow

lost his mother ; his father married again Prest by the titled :--

in a short time, and a son by this latter Oh! rtis net wealth that shields the heart from marriage soon took the precedence of him

silent, Secret forebodings---calms the brow of anger,

in his father's affections, and in every Banishes terror, deep despair, and anguish--- thing else. These unfortunate circum. Riches' sad offspring !

stances, as he advanced in years, caused Health flies far distant.--and can Wealth recall an increase of the melancholy tinge in her?

his disposition, which he inherited from Hope's rays deceive us---Wealth, alas ! how useless!

his mother, who was unhappy in her Friendship betrays us---Wealth, how more than marriage. When at the age of 18, he futile

received strong impressions in favour of All thine endeavours !

the Roman Catholic religion; and on his No---'tis that pure, that unperverted feeling, coming of age, he made known his intenGuileless and guiltless,---all to life a stranger, Life and its follies---then, farewell for ever

tions of renouncing the Protestant Faith, Earth's golden idol !

and becoming a priest of the Romish ALPHEUS. Church. In this, however, he was op

posed by his father, and the rest of his family, and after a great struggle was

obliged to give up his intentions, but by LINES

this opposition his mind became unhinged, On being cautioned against losing my heart and he ran into a course of extravagance at Covent Garden Theatre.

of conduct quite contrary to his former Thou bad'st me Cupid's shafts beware, deportment; and disappointments in other

Nor with fond eyes o'er beauty rove ;--- plans for future life succeeding rapidly I did---for Cupid smiled not there,

on each other, he at last left his country, But yet I fell a prey to.--Love.


unknown to his friends.

“ After wandering across the continent, with scarcely any support but that of cha

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rity, he found his way to Sarnen, and in who commanded in that quarter, but was
cerested the Holy Fathers so much in his soon released.
behalf as to be admitted into the fra.

ABOUT the beginning of August, when

the best fishing may generally be had in ANECDOTE OF GEORGE MOR. those rivers where the fish run from the LAND.

sea, I was staying at the pleasant village A MEMORABLE circumstance occurred to of in the Western Highlands of Morland during his retreat to Hackney,

Scotland, for the purpose of a few days' for in his retirement here he applied closely amusement. It is now many years since, to his profession, remained singularly but a circumstance which then occurred sober, and seemed about to recover that made a deep impression on me. composure and serenity of mind to which It had rained incessantly since my arhe had long been a stranger. All the rival; and it is no depreciation of the pictures sent from his easel while at beauties of the place, when I say I was Hackney are very carefully finished; his heartily tired of my quarters. The river drawings also evinced a minuteness of at was from bank to brae,* and quite unfit tention which was wanting in many others

for fishing; and the rain falling in torproduced under the pressure of immediate rents, would, had it been otherwise, have necessities. His works, in consequence

rendered it impossible. An idle fellow, of this great and obvious improvement,

who lived near the inn, was my only renow rose very highly in value ; and al source; but he was an expert angler, and though, through the craft of picture

that was a higher qualification, in the dealers, the artist himself derived from present instance, than if he had been a his paintings a small part only of the profound philosopher. I had again and price which they produced, still ”Morland again examined my tackle ; every knot received such sums of money in his ex

was tied, and every loop examined ; doubttreme privacy, as produced a suspicion ful pieces of gut rejected, and fresh ones that he was connected with a gang of substituted, with the same care and scru. coiners or forgers ! Information was ac- ple as if I meant to bob for whales. The cordingly communicated to the Bank of rain lashed the casements furiously; not England, and a party of officers were dis a creature moved in the dirty lane ; the patched to the harmless dwelling of poor fowls crowded for shelter to the out-houses, Morland, in order to secure the suspected and the cattle, occasionally lowing in their criminal. He had notice of their approach, stalls, broke, but did not dispel, that kind and having no doubt that they were com

of indescribable silence which strikes so ing to arrest him for debt, made his heavy on the mind when we feel it amid escape over the garden-wall, and effected the haunts of men. At once a noise in his retreat undiscovered into London. The the street burst on my ear, and my compaofficers, after rummaging all his boxes, nion and myself were instantly in the drawers, &c. discovered their error; and middle of a crowd, now nearly opposite che directors, when the affair was repre- the door. “Good God, Donald! what do sented to them, sent the terrified artist, ye there with the gentleman, when your as an indemnification for the inconvenience laddie is by this time half way into the de had suffered, a paltry present of twenty river ?”. It was but too true: a brook, guineas. The mischief to Morland, how dreadfully swollen, ran down the street ever, was irreparable ; the spot which had into the larger stream, and the child, un. afforded him an asylum was no longer se- observed, had dropt into it. From the cure, and the tranquillity he had begun to height of the banks it was impossible to enjoy was destroyed. He took shelter seize it, and it was now fast hurrying to at a carver and gilder's, in Leaden a part, which was covered for the convehall-street; thence he wandered from nience of the road which passed that way, place to place in dreadful apprehension of immediately above their junction. Rediscovery, till he received an invitation lief was at this spot impossible, and all from Mr. Lynn, to pass a few weeks turned to the roaring pool below, where with him at his house at Cowes, in the it was frightful to look at its violence and Isle of Wight.

His retreat was dis its agitation, whirling and eddying round covered within three days, and he was

the sides, and its dark, profound stillness compelled to fly to Yarmouth, accompa

in other places was not less horrid. The nied by a faithful friend, his servant, poor father, who at first was incapable of George Sympson, where, after having re reflection, had been directed by some of mained in quiet for a few days, he was his cooler friends to fetch his leister (fisharrested as a spy by a silly, military officer • A phrase faniiliar in Scotland.

spear,) and just at the moment when the business of life; we may cut it out alto. child rushed with dreadful violence from gether, and the plot wiú not be the less the covered way already mentioned, and complete. In spite, however, of its being was about to be forced by the eddy into a truism, it must be admitted that to-day the centre of the river, where all assist. is a portion of our existence. Granted, ance would have been unavailing, he exclaims the idler, but, after all, what is seized him with his weapon, fastening it a single day?-A question which is peein his clothes, and had the unutterable vishly repeated three hundred and sixtypleasure of saving his own son, which, I five times in a year, when we commence believe, almost repaid him for the mo a new score of similar interrogatories ; so ments of torture to which he had been that we might as well say at once, “ What subjected. This event disturbed the quiet is a single life?” Short as the interval of the clachan for that evening. Donald might be, and however indolently we piay was raised to consequence by his threat- have passed it, to-day has not been alto ened misfortune ; and in a land where gether unimportant. Perched upon our whiskey and kindness flow in the same goodly vehicle, the earth, we have swung channel, enough of both was poured out through space at a tolerably brisk rate in to overset a better regulated head than the performance of our annual rotation that of my village crony. Not a victor at round the sun; so many miles of life's the Games was ever greeted with more journey have, at all events, brought us so welcome than Donald, on his returning much nearer to its end ; they are struck from the side of the river with his son in off from our account; we shall never trehis arms; not a window did he pass at vel over them again. With every tick of which loud tapping was not hcard, in our watch in that brief space of time, viting him to come in and shew his cal. some hundreds or thousands have started lant to the impatient inmates, who stood from the great antenatal infinite to light ready with their bottle to eke out the full and life; while as many have returned tide of their congratulation. It was an

into the darkness of the invisible world. evening of revelling: there was less mer. And we ourselves, though we sometimes rimento and frolic than a wedding or a exclaim, like the Emperor Titus, that we christening would have licensed, but I have lost a day, may be well assured that believe fully as much drinking, for the to-day has not lost sight of us. The footoccurrence of the morning had given a steps of Time may not be heard when he tinge of gravity to their meeting, which treads upon ruses, but his progress is not on that account, perhaps, seemed to the less certain ; we need not shake the authorize deeper libations to dispel it. hour-glass to make the sands of life flow The next morning ushered in a day's faster they keep perpetually diminish. sport, which might form the chronicle of ing; night and day, asleep or awake, a cockney sportsman's recollection for a grain by grain, our existence dribbles whole life time.

away. _We call those happy moments

when Time flies most rapidly, forgetting The Sketch Book.

that he is the only winged personage that

cannot fly backwards, and that his speed No. XX.

is but hurrying us to the grave.

Those individuals who seek happiness

will withdraw themselves from this whirl TO-DAY.

and vortex of excitement. They will not TO-DAY is like a child's pocket money, aggravate the diseased enlargement of the which he never thinks of keeping in his public heart, and share the painful intenpocket. Considering it bestowed upon sity of its pulsations, by residing in the us for the sole purpose of being expended capital. There is no holy calm, no sabas fast as possible in dainties, toys, and bath of the soul, no cessation of strife, in nicknacks, we should reproach ourselves that vast arena of the passions, where life for meanness of spirit were we to hoard it is a ceaseless struggle of money-getting up, or appropriate it to any object of se. and money-spending ; a contest of avarice rious utility. It is the only part of life and luxury ; a delirium of the senses or of which we are sure ; yet we treat it as if of the mind. If we desire peace and reit were the sole portion of existence be- pose, let us look out upon the variegated yond our control. We make sage reflec- earth, ever new

and beautiful—upon the tions upon the past, and wise resolutions azure doom of Heaven, hung around with for the future, but no one ever forms an painted clouds—upon the wide waters, important determination for to-day. What- dancing and glittering in the sun, or lying ever is urgent must be reserved for to. in the stillness of their crystal sleep. Let morrow; the present hour is a digression, us listen to the music of the sky, when the an episode that belongs not to the main boughs are singing to the wind, and the

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