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my cause with all the eloquence I| And at lengtħ “ the rosy-fingered was master of, and expatiating Aurora” had appeared, before largely on my misfortunes, I was Morpheus shed his influence adismissed with a severe reprimand, round my head. Harassed almost to and a notice that such circum-distraction, I arose, foolishly, yet stances would not be so easily fondly, hoping that even at thatearoverlooked another time. I be- ly hour, I might behold the beautilieve the truth was, they thought ous fair one, on whom alone my I had somehow or another got a heart was fixed; but indeed thinkdrop too much, for the violence ing, whatever might he the issue of my passion had in some degree in this respect, a walk into the turned my brain, and made me country at that calm hour of morn, forget myself.
might tend to sooth my troubled After this delay, I thought it spirits. Vain hope ! my fondest would be useless to proceed far- expectations were again frustrather, as the object of my pursuit ted, and I have continued through was by this time probably safe the whole day in the same unhaphoused, or at least too far to be py situation; totally unfit for stuovertaken, and was determining dy to which I ought to have devowith myself what course I should ted myself. However as Tom pursue, when luckily I was join- Squib is constantly on the look out ed by my old friend Tom Squib, for me, I still cherish the hope of who, having heard the dangers removing my grievances, and ere and difficulties I had already en, long making my affections known countered, kindly offered to con- to the lovely object, to whom and to duct me home to my College. Af-whom alone they are directed. In ter much persuasion, I at last my future adventures should any reluctantly consented; but what thing worthy of notice occur, I words can describe to you the shall have great pleasurein forwardhorrors of my situation 'till the ing it to you: but let me assure dawn of day; agitated in mind by you that my only object in bega thousand cruel reflections, and ging your insertion of this is to by no means at ease in my bodily warn other young men of my sanparts! One moment I upbraided guine disposition from falling into myself for giving way to such a the like misfortune; and by so hopeless passion; the next I pic-doing you will greatly oblige, tured to myself dreams of happi
Your's truly, ness, which I might enjoy, could
JASPER. I ever obtain the object of my wishes; but still the cruel doubt remained, how that so much de Dr. Franklin found that Ants sired object was to be obtained, I had some means of communicating
their thoughts, or desires, to one | Brave PICTON, son of victory ! another. In a summer-house at
His life-blood shed his realms to the end of bis garden, there hap
that set all Europe free, pened to be a small earthen pot
Lies nerveless in the clay-cold grave. half full of treacle. This he found swarming with Ants, which were He left the world a legacy, quietly feasting on it. These he
Peace profound, and prospects
bright; shook out except a single Ant, His work achieved, his soul burst free, and then suspended the pot by And wing'd her way to realms of means of a string from the ceiling. light. The captive Ant endeavoured to
Who can recount each daring deed, escape, and at last found out the
The feats of valour he perform’d; way, by climbing up the string The hosts he chas'd with eagle-speed, to the ceiling, and from thence The battles gain'd, the forts he down the wall to the ground, and
storm'd ? into the garden. About half an His deeds shall swell the trump of bour after, a great swarm of Ants fame,
Worth from honour who can sever? came, ran up the wall, along the
le died-but left a deathless name, ceiling, and down the string into
In glory's blaze t'will live for ever. the pot. This continued till the treacle was devoured, one swarm This Ode was sung at the Carmarcoming down the string on one
then Eisteddfod, Congress of Welsh side at the same time that another Bards, on the 9th of July, 1819, by
Miss Bartlett, adapted to the Air of swarm was going up on the other
"ANHAWDD YMADAEL,” (Loath to de. side.
Oxon, June 16th, 1824,
MY BIRTH DAY.
“My Birthday"-what a different On the Death of Sir Thos. Picton.
That word had in my youthful ears, By the Rev. D. Rowland.
And how each time the day comes O wake the lyre, ye minstrels hoar,
round The deep-ton'd strings of sorrow Less and less white its marks sweep;
appears ! For Cambria's hero is no more,
When first our scanty years are told, Around his tomb her daughters
It seems like pastime to grow old ; weep.
And as youth counts the shining links, Weep on ye forms angelic,-pour That time around him binds so fast
A food of tears upon that tomb; Pleas'd with the task, he little think's A mightier warrior ye deplore
How hard that chain will press at Than any son of Greece or Rome.
Vain was the man, and false as vain When, pois’d upon the gale, my form Who said “were he ordained to
Or, dark in mist, descend the moun“ His long career of life again,
tain's side; “ He would do all that he had done!' | Oh, may my shade behold no sculp
tur'd urns, Ah! 'tis not thus the voice that dwells To mark the spot where earth to earth In sober birth-days speaks to me,
returns; Far otherwise of time it tells
No lengthen'd scroll of virtue and reLavish'd unwisely, carelessly
nown; Of counsels mock'd, of talents made My epitaph shall be my name alone:
Haply for high and pure designs, If that with honour fail to crown my But oft, like Israel's incense, laid
clay, Upon unholy, earthly shrines Oh! may no other fame my deeds re
pay ; Of nursing many a wrong desire
That, only that, shall single out the Of wandering after love too far,
spot, And taking every meteor fire,
By that remembered, or by that forgot, That cross'd my path-way, for his
All this it tells, and could I trace
SONNET. Th’imperfect picture o'er again,
Tho' the tempests of winter may With power to add, retouch, efface,
sweep The lights and shades, the joy and pains ;
The shadowing leaves from our How little of the past would stay;
bowers, How quickly all would melt away, And Flora in sorrow may weep, All but that freedom of the mind
Her desolate kingdom of flowers! Which hath been more than wealth Tho' the wild mountain torrent may
tear Those friendships in my boyhood The pine on his throne from the twin'd
peak, And kept till now unchangingly; And the bright-winged bird of the air
Drop dead on the storm-spirits' And that dear home, that saving ark,
shriek! Where love's true light at length
Unheeded's the ruin that's hurl'd I've found,
From the hurricane's wide-spreadCheering within, when all grows dark,
ing wing, And comfortless and stormy round.
Or the frown winter casts on the J. D.
world, Fontenelle. "Si je recommençois ma carriere,
If the heart wear the smile of the je ferai tout ce que j'ai fait.”
EPITOME OF MAN'S LIFE. When, to their airy halls my father's Childhood in toys delights; voice,
And youth in sports as vain; Shall call my spirit, joyful in their Mid age has many cares and frights; ehoice;
Old age is full of pain.
THE TWO HERVEYS. You should have taken both of as, il Two Herveys had a mutual wish,
either, To shine in separate stations,
'Twould have been more pleasing to
the survivor! The one invented sauce for fish,
The other " Meditations."
Britannia's boast, her glory and her This, relishes a sole when fried,
pride, That, saves a soul from frying! Pitt in his country's service liv'd and
J. W. D.
Fully resolv'd at last with Pitt to vie
die. To lhe Editor of the Oxford Enter
Epigrams. panying Epitaphs worthy of in- On seeing the Statue of George II. on sertion in your entertaining little the top of Bloomsbury Steeple. work, I will endeavour to furnish The King of Great Britain was reck. you with some frequently.
The head of the church, --by alt your Well-wisher,
good Christian people; SELECTOR. His subjects of Bloomsbury bare
added one more The Church Pard, To his titles, -and made him the No. I.
head of the Steeple. The following is said to be inscribed on a tomb-stone in Ger
ON BONAPARTE. many, perhaps some of your
Vir regnat partem mundi Bonaparte genious readers can decipher it, vocatus,
Sed regnasse virum non puto parte “O quid tua te
bona. be! bis ? bia abit
In St. Phillip's Church Yard, Bir
“Aage,” “I. S.,” and “Jonathan mingham.
W. Doubikin,” in our next. O cruel death how could you be so « Emerald” and “ Pic Mic'' are too unkind,
personal : we admire their style of As to take him before and leave me writing, and shall be glad to hear behind ?
from them on other subjects. No. 3, Vol. 1-June 23, 1824.
[Printed and Published by F. Trasb, Oxford.
death of his mother, to visit the Select Biography. continent. In 1638 he went to
Paris, where he was introduced “No part of history is more instruc- to the celebrated Grotius; and tive and delightful than the lives of after he had prosecuted his jourgreat and worthy men.”
BURNETT. ney as far as Italy, he returned to
his native country, after an ah
sence of fifteen months. England LIFE OF MILTON.
was then embroiled in civil disJohn Multon, the justly ce-cord, and Milton, being hostile to lebrated author of some of the monarchial principles, wrote boldfinest compositions that ever ap- ly and ably in support of the repeared before the public, was born publican party. Dec. 9th, 1608, in Bread Street, He married Mary, daughter of London. His Grandfather was so Richard Powell, of Forest Hill, rigid a papist, that he, in conse- Oxfordshire ; the principles of quence of difference of religious this gentleman were diametrically opinions, disinherited this son opposite to his own, and their (the father of the Poet) who was marriage is more remarkable than compelled to follow the profession their separation, which took place of a Serivener. His eldest son, about a month after their union. John, (the poet) was the favourite After some time had elapsed, of his father's hopes ; he received when he was on a visit to a friend, his first instructions from Mr. T. his wife fell prostrate before him, Young, whose care and capacity imploring forgiveness and a rehis pupil has gratefully celebrated conciliation. At the intercession in an excellent Latin poem : on of the friends who were present, leaving this gentleman he went to after a short reluctance, he geneSt. Paul's School ; from whence rously sacrificed all his resentment he was removed to Christ's Col- to her tears : lege, Cambridge, where he dis
Soon his heart relented tinguished himself in all kinds of Towards her, his life so late, and dear
delight, academical studies. After he had Now at his feet submissive in disobtained his Master's Degree, he
tress.ll returned to his father, who was then After this re-union, so far was living at Horton, in Bucking- he from retaining any unkind. hamshire, where he pursued his memory of the provocations which studies with unabated ardour, and he had received from her ill conunparallelled success.
duct, that when the king's cause After some years spent in this was entirely suppressed, and her studious retirement, he obtained his father's consent, upon the li Paradise Lost, Book X.