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«• I could not hide my alter'd form: " • And little can the untempted dream, Then on my head the fearful storm While gliding smoothly on life's stream Of gibe and insult burst:
They keep the letter-laws,
What they would be, if, tost like me
They knew how hunger gnaws.
"• Ah, lightly heed the righteous few “ Her eye was fixed; she said no more, How little to themselves is due,
But propp'd against the cold street-door But all things given to them ;
She leaned her fainting head ; Yet the unwise because untaught,
One moment she look'd up and smil'd, The wandering sheep, because unsought, Full of new hope, as Mercy's child, They heartlessly condemn:
- And the poor girl was dead." We do not think the idea very happy of “ Contrasted Sonnets"—such as, Nature-Art; The Happy Home- The Wretched Home ; Theory-Practice ; Ritches-Poverty ; Philanthropic- Misanthropic ; Country — Town; and so on-and 'tis an ancient, nay, a stale idea, though Mr Tupper evidently thinks it fresh and new, and luxuriates in it as if it were all his own. Sometimes he chooses to shew that he is ambidexter-and how much may be said on both sides-leaving the reader's mind in a state of indifference to what may really be the truth of the matter-or disposed to believe that he knows more about it than the Sonnetteer. The best are Prose and Poetry—and they are very good—so is “ Ancient,” but Modern is very bad and therefore we quote the three
“ That the fine edge of intellect is dulled,
And mortal ken with cloudy films obscure,
That virtue's self is weak its love to lure,
But pride and lust keep all the gates secure,
The selfish, useful, money-making plan,
Where in hard matter sinks ideal man :
Thy darkness to confound with yon bright band
And now as kings in prose on fame's clear summit stand."
“ To touch the heart, and make its pulses thrill,
To raise and purify the grovelling soul,
To conquer passion with a mild controul,
These are thine aims, O pure unearthly power,
And therefore these, who have thee for their dower,
Eat angels' food, the manna thou dost shower :
Whether to read, or write, or think, or hear,
My sympathies are all with times of old,
Upstart, and Aippant, foolish, weak, and gay,
I love to wander o'er the shadowy past,
And seem to find myself almost the last
Of a time-honoured race, decaying fast ;
Conjuring up what story it might tell,
And in a desert could delight to dwell
Mr Tupper has received much praise bation of the public. Perhaps our from critics whose judgment is gene. rough notes may help him to discover rally entitled to great respect--in the where his strength lies ; and, with his Atlas-if we mistake not-in the right feelings, and amiable sensibiliSpectator—and in the Sun. If our ties, and fine enthusiasm, and healthy censure be undeserved- let our copious powers when exercised on familiar quotations justify themselves, and be and domestic themes, so dear for. our condemnation. Our praise may ever to the human heart, there seems seem cold and scanty ; but so far no reason why, in good time, he from despising Mr Tupper's talents, may not be among our especial we have good hopes of him, and do favourites, and one of “the Swans not fear but that he will produce many of Thames"_which, we believe, are far better things than the best of as big and as bright as those of the those we have selected for the appro
Tweed. Alas! for poor Nicol! Dead and gone_but not to be forgotten—for aye to be remembered among the flowers of the forest, early wede away!
THE HA' BIBLE.
“ Chief of the Household Gods
Which hallow Scotland's lowly cottage-homes!
That speak, though dumb, deep thought upon me comes-
“ The Mountains old and hoar
The chainless Winds—the Streams so pure and free-
The waving Forest-the eternal Sea-
“Ol I could worship thee!
Thou art a gift a God of love might give ;
In thy Almighty-written pages live!
“ God! unto Thee I kneel,
And thank Thee! Thou unto my native land
Hast stretch'd in love Thy Everlasting hand,
“ And, Father, Thou hast spread
Before Men's eyes this Charter of the Free,
And Justice love, and Truth and Liberty.
“ Thou doubly-precious Book !
Unto thy light what doth not Scotland owe ?
And Youth in Truth unsullied up to grow!
“ O'er thy broad ample page
How many dim and aged eyes have pored ?
In silence deep and holy have adored ?
Have oft in truthful plighted Love been join'd,
Hast been a bond—an altar of the mind !
We have no heart to write about him his memory—they breathe of the holy and his genius and his virtues now ; fragrance that “ smells sweet and but these lines which Scotland “ will blossoms in the dust." And how not willingly let die,” will embalm beautiful are these!
(Dec. 1838. A DAY AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.
A bonnie blumin' bush o' brume
Waved o'er me in my dream.
Upo' the giant knee
Like a stream of Gladness pour ;
“ ' Whan morn abune yon eastern hill
Had raised its glimmerin' e'e,
Whar' gorcocks crawin' flee ;
Frae out the dewy dens,
In lane an' hoary glens.
" I saw them dance upon' the breeze,
An' hide within the flower-
An' skim the lakelets o'er!
О'ages lost an' gone
War' peopled every one !
"• Auld frownin' rocks on either hand,
Uprear'd their heads to Heaven, Like temple-pillars which the foot
O' Time had crush'd an' riven ;
Upo' my ear did flow,-
The tales o' long ago.
" "The vision fled, an' I awoke :
The sun was sinkin' doon;
sung their gloamin' tune :
The breezes on the flower ;
It was the evening hour.
"• The daisy, frae the burnie's side,
Was lookin' up to God-
Seem'd kneeling on the sod :
An' on ilk naked rock-
An' haly words it spoke.
"" The nameless flowers that budded up
Each beauteous desart child
O'er many a lanely wild :
The mountains old and bare-
I breathed my morning prayer.
“ There was a lowly mound o'green
Beside me risin' there, -
An' say its twilight prayer.
Aside the Martyrs' grave !
“ • Alang o'er monie a mountain-tap
Alang through monie a glenWi' Nature haudin' fellowship,
I journey'd far frae men.
Wad burst upon my eye,
Wad come the breezes' cry.
“ I knelt upo' that hallow'd earth,
While Memory pictured o'er
An' God in love did bless,
A day o' happiness !"
" • At noon, I made my grassy couch
Beside a haunted stream,
INDEX TO VOL. XLIV.
Alcestis of Euripides, the, translated by Mr
dean, &c. writers, by Cory, reviewed,
ton's Daugbter, I-Part II. 3- Part III.
- Part VII. 14- Part VIII. 16- Part
Ring, Part I. 664_Part II. 741.
Brougham has well branded the Mel-
tions of the papists, 438.
lator of Homer's Hymns, 52.
in France. By M. Guizot, reviewed, 524.
of Euripides, 408.
character of the Colonial Secretary de-
posed, 625~his endowments of popery
rican colonies, 635.
28, 1838, by James Montgomery, 140-
369_Sonnets, on the, 402.
existence of the corn laws, as affecting