« السابقةمتابعة »
ine, Believe me,
No play-mate can to thee repair;
Down my cheek let the tear be permitted to steal, Thy bed no lov'd companion share;
At the song I have caroll'd, my bosom to swell; The worm alone has entrance there,
Believe “ 'tis hard to be parted," I feel The silent worm,-my daughter.
“ 'tis hard to be saying farewell ;" Of late, I mark'd on Avon's side,
And perchance too, “ for ever." Before I return, The bending lily's silver pride;
Of those whom I leave with so keen a regret, Reflected in the crystal tide;
Haply some will be gone to that far distant And thought on thee, my daughter. bourne,
And the friend of their youtlı-haply others Alas, in one revolving hour,
forget. A chilling blast, an angry show'r. Beat down the lovely, ruin'd flow'r; As I dwell on the thought shadows transiently How like thy fate, my daughter.
rise, The spring is past, it swiftly fled;
And my breast, at the sound of " for ever,"
beats high; For Pain and Sorrow, on thy head, The phial of atfliction shed,
But a glance of sweet sunshine from Anga's And blighted thee, my daughter.
Bids the gloom be no more, and disperses the sigh. But ah, the graces of thy inind, Thy sense and gentleness combin'd,
Yes, Anna, with thee I contented will roam; Thy looks of love and voice so kind,
With thee the wild beauties of nature explore; Can I forget, iny daughter ? As thy falls in the sun, Niagara shall foam,
We with awe will their mighty creator adore. Since I must quit this fatal place, Oh could I once more view thy face,
When the beautiful white bird announces the And fold inee in a last embrace,
spring, And press thy hand, my daughter. And the flowers of the cotton tree glisten with Or could I ope' thy lowly shrine,
When their fragrance around palms and cedar-
We will far from the dog star their solitude woo.
At the social fireside, when snow covers the Occasioned by the departure of a Friend for ground, Canada.
We will smile at the boisterous force of the storm,
to our friends," the sweet senti. UNRUFFLED the wave and unclouded the sky,
ment round. The sails gently swelling as kissed by the wind, Sweet England receding, the passenger's eye
Thus the passenger spoke, till the shadows of Still look'd but in vain for the prospect behind.
Stole slowly the bosom of Ocean along; The cliffs proudly rising no more can he view,
To its rocky abode the gull winging its flight, (Which the sailor, return’d after many a storm,
On the breeze of night swelling the mariner's Hails with transport as beacons of happiness
song. true,) Not a shadow is left for sweet fancy to forin.
The white bird, mentioned in the 9th verse, is
the chief Canadian bird of melody; it is a kind of In vain would he catch, at the close of the day,
ortolan, and remarkable for announcing the reFor the last time, the sound of some far distant
turn of spring
The cottop-tree is peculiar to Canada; tufts of But nought-save the vessel dividing its way,
flowers grow on its top, which, when shaken in Is heard -or the boatswain proclaiming “all's
the inorning, before the dew falls off, produce well."
honey that may be boiied up into sugar; the Adieu, England! adieu, then my dear native seed being a pod, containing a very fine kind of land,
cotton. Ye winds on your wings kindly waft my adieu; Inmense forests apparently coeval with the Many years must pass by, e'er again on your world, ab-und in North America; trees in an strand
endluss variety of species, losing themselves in I may hope the sweet joys of the past to renew. the clouds.
TO A YELLOW BUTTERFLY.
BY A YOUNG LADY. Hail, loveliest insect of the Spring ! Sweet buoyant child of Phæbus, hail! High scaring on thy downy wing, Or sporting in the sunny vale! 0! lovely is thy airy form, Tha: wears the Primrose hue so fair; It seems as if a passing storm Had raisd the beauteous flower in air ! Far different from the spotted race That sultry June's bright suns unfold, That seek in her fair flow'rs their place, And proud display their wings of gold. For, brilliant is their varying dye, And, basking in the fervid ray, They in the new blown roses lie, Or round the opening Cistus play! But thou, with April's modest flower, Her Violet sweet of snowy hue, Tranquil shalt pass the noontide hour, And sip, content, the evening dew. Ah, may no frosts thy beauties chill, No storms thy little frame destroy ; But, sporting gay beside the rill, May'st thou thy transient life enjoy!
WELCOME hither, airy trav'ler,
Hither resi t'y wearied wing, Though from clime to clime a rev’ler
, Constant to returning spring. If along the trackless ocean,
Thou by chance hast miss'd the way, I'll direct thy wav'ring motion,
But a moment with me stay.
Bear a wand'ring sailor's vow,
Love shall be thy pilot now. Shun, I pray thee; gentle stranger,
Touch not Gallia's hated shore, There is death, and certain danger,
She is stain'd with royal gore.* But to happier Bri'ian tend thee,
Where the milder virtues rove,
Bear it to my distant love.
No rude hand shall do thee wrong,
Delia's self shall guard thy young. There a thousand soft sensations,
Lull the tranquil mind to rest; Nature there, with fund persuasions,
Oft shall soothe a parent's breast. Haste then, gentle bird of passage,
When thou leav'st our wintry isle, Bring nie back my Delia's message,
Bring a kiss and bring a sminile.
TIME AND CUPID. His life in travelling always spent,
Old Time, a much renowned wight, To a wide river's margin went,
And caļI'd for aid with all his might: “ Will none have pity on my years, “I that preside in every clime ? O, my good friends, and passengers, " Lend, lend a hand to pass old Time !" Full
many a young and sprightly lass, Upon the adverse bank appeard, Who eager sought old time to pass,
On a small bark by Cupid steer'd ;
Repeated oft this moral rhyme-
Thoughtless and gay, in passing Time!
And spread the highly waving sail ; He took old father Time on board,
And gave his canvass to the gale. Then joyous as he row'd alung,
He oft exclaim'd,“ Observe, my lasses, « Attend the burden of my song,
"How sprightly Time with Cupid passes !" At lengih the urchin weary grew,
For soon or late 'ris still the case ;
Time ster'd the vessel in nis place.
* P rfctly coinciding in sentiment with the author of these stanzas, we conot forbear obsery. ing, that this is a stain which will rema'r an epero lasting blot in the annals of France. While his savage subjects dipperi their han ikerchiefs and pikes in the blood of the ill fated Louis, he fell,
“By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd."
PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS FOR JULY.
Pauline. I give him up to you.
Agathe. Had he seen me alone, I inight not
have been affronted with a refusal, but the [Continued froin Page 328, Vol. II.)
charms of four girls younger than I, could not
fail when compared with mine, to deprive me of (Enter Àgathe, in a riding habit.)
all hope of success. Agathe. My presence, perhaps, is trouble- Pauline. You have acted wrong in treating some?
poor Ledoux so ill. Pauline. Not in the least, this gentleman was Agathe. Did you not reinark that during about to leave me. But what means this riding- breakfast Mr. Corsignac had his eyes constanily habit ?
fixed upon you. Agathe. The weather is so beautiful, that I Pauline. Indeed! well he has at least some formed the project of exploring the neighbour- originality in him. But stay, it is he who told ing country. But you, my dear sister, what a stu- Ursule that Sainville was a romantic, sentimental died negligence there is in your dress?
swain. Pauline. Studied; I assure you I paid no at- Agathe. You mistake; he told her that Saintention to it.
ville was fond of dashing, hunting, and horses. Sainville (aside). Is all this intended to capti- Pauline. Are you sure she did not deceive vate my attention?
Agathe. The old steward goes with me. Will Agathe, No, it is rather through giddiness; Mr. Sainville be so good as to accompany me,
but as to Corsignac, he has his views let yourself we would hunt by the way. You are fond of be caught by my example, do not refuse him. the chace.
Pauline. And be you not so cruel towards your Sainville. Moderately.
lover Ledoux. Agathe. I like it passionately, and am glad my taste agrees with yours.
(Enter CORSIGNAC.) Pauline (aside). Very well, my dear Agathe. Corsignac (to Pauline), Vouchsafe to dispel
Sainville (aside). This time it is plain that my anxiety, and confirm the truth of whal SainCorsignac was not mistaken. (Aloud). I am very ville just now told me. Am I fortunate enough sorry that I must tear myself from your company,
to have been sent for by you. but Mr. Jaquemin expects me, and the business Pauline. No, Sir; you have been misled, it is in which we are engaged is too important to admit my sister who wishes for your company. of any delay. My friend Corsignac is at liberty, Agathe. I am too much your friend for that, and may prove a more acceptable companion. I and I give up my walk; for I should be sorry to ('To Panline). I beg you will resume your read deprive Mr. Corsignac of the pleasure of Pauline's ing:-( Asiile). They are mad, or at least very conversation. foolish; I'll go in search of Louise. [Exit. Corsignac. Amiable sister; how grateful I feel
Agathe (aside). How impertinent to send me for your kindness! it encourages me, and plucks to his friend Corsignac !
my secret from my heart. (To Pauline). I love Pauline Paside). He is a true citizen, some suc
you to madness. cessful merchant's son perhaps; he has noihing Pauline. Sir? of a gentleman; what stories Ursule has told Corsignac. Forgive this sudden declaration, but
when it is the resistless power of sympathy that Agaihe. O that I had not been so difficult in acts upon us. my tine! - Mr. Ledoux is now the only one Agathe. Of sympathy! who pays his addresses tu mne.
Corsignac. I am a man such as you want. It Pauline. Hear me, Agathe, we promised to be is true, I have met with no romantic adventures, frank: I had some intentions upon Sainville. but I feel capable of wri'ing novels; and in order galhe. So had I, sister.
to taste the joys of life, I believe it is far preferPonline. I guessed it, when I saw you dressed able to be their author than their hero. We will like an amazon.
translate together all the chefs-d'au
'quvre of the Agushe. The same idea struck me when I per- English misses, will melt with interest at every cetud jou bud turned sheplerdess.
stroke of misfortune their imagination shall have
insented. In after times we may perhaps invent you first gave me, was more favourable; what some ourselves: and then the delightful pleasure caprice has so suddenly altered your mind. of eninching them we love, will stand within your Louise. What caprice, Sir, am I accused of Teach. In a word, I am an honest man, a good being capricious ? natured fellow, I have obtained your guardian's Sainville. I fear to dive too deeply into the consent, and feel inclined to be for ever in love | feelings of your heart. with or wile. What else could you require. Louise. You may draw any inferences from
Pau.de. Yuu will permit me, Sir, to look upon them, I never attempe to conceal the state of my this speech as a mere joke,
soul. Carseznac. As you please, only remember that Suinville. As your father's friend you received under a veil of pleasantry, many serious affairs me with some demonstrations of pleasure, as your bir be conducied,
intended husband, you seem to detest my preFoaline Answer this question ; what account of ur friend Sainville, did you give Ursule.
E. R. Conac. That which honour and truth dic
(To be continued.) tatud io me. But let me dwell a little more on the fender and powerful sentiment which a glance
HAYMARKET. of yours čas awakened in my heart. l'auline Not yet, think only of assisting my
On Wednesday, July 1, Mr. Young made his sister,
appearance in the character of Don Felir, in The Cursig ac. To be useful to the sister of the Wonder. He does not appear to have that ease person I love so ardently, would indced make me and versatility of countenance, or that vivacity of happy.
feeling and variety of expression, which are nePautine. This morning she received Mr. Le- cessary to a comic actor. His features are stern doux very coldly; and now she repents her and unpliable, and his general manner solemn imprudence.
and harsh. Nothing can be more foreign from Corsignac. I understand you, in a few minutes | merriment than his attempt at minh : his gaiety is he will be at her feet.
[Exit too apparently effort, and whai humour he brings Agathe. His rivacity is charming—but how forth is spoiled by the constraint and labour of its could you send him after Mr. Ledyux?
production. To succeed in comedy a man must Pauline, Shall I call him back?
have a peculiar temperament which no education Agathe. I do not mean that; but let me know can give. All the excellencies of the tragic actor what is your opinion about this Mr. Corsignac. may be taught; the comedian's are the gift of Pauline. My opinion-hush! here is Louise. nature alone. We can pronounce, therefore, that
Mr. Young will never become celebrated as a (Enter LOUISE)
The general fault of his perforinance in this Pauline. I will be as plain with you, my dear
character was, that he was boisterous and declaLouise, as I have been with my sister; you may
matory ; that his jealousy was too much of a without apprehension of hurting my feelings, eragic cast, and more suited the ravings of an marry Sainville; I think no more of him.
Othello, or the phlegmatic acrimonious jealousy Agaihe. Nor I either; we resign the conquest;
of a Kilely, than to the busy, bustling, sanguine for it is just you should not be disappointed of the
temperament of Don Felir. Altogether, his perbusband your father meant to give you. Fare
formance was that of a man of good sense, who well, I must talk a little in private with my sister. Louise ( alone). They yield Sainville to me,
was unequal to the character for no other reason
than because nature never intended him to perhave they discovered more of his disposition
form it. than Ursule has revealed to me. Always gallant
Mrs. Litchfield's l’iolante was admirable. Her with the ladies, she said; yet he appears so
clear, mellow, and harmonious enunciation was sincere, so open, perhaps I should be able to
excellently fitted for the character. She was at change him. Should I love, or should I avoid him?
once dignified and tender; she rallied and re. - Shall I act a coquette's part? Yes--I must
buked her lover with equal ease and nature. Her follow Ursule's advice. O heav'ns ! he is coming i humour was without constraint, and her dignity towards me, and she has forsaken me. I must
without severity. In a word, we know no actress try to escape him.
who approaches her in this character but Mrs.
Jordan, to wliom the comic muse has justly (Enter SAINVILLE)
yielded the palm. Sainville. Do I intrude upon your time, madam ?
Mr. YOUNG's STRANGER. you seem desirous of shunning me, the reception On Friday, July 3, Mr. Young appeared in
the character of the Stranger, and we can say,
Mr. MaTuLWS. with justice, thar whatever reason we had to con
Mr. LISTON. demn bim in the chis cter of Felir, we feel no in
Mr. TAYLOR. clination but to applaud bim, almost without Celestine
Mrs. TAYLOR. reserve or moderation, in the performance of this
Mrs. LISTON. difficult part That solemnity and severeness of Alice
Mrs. Gibbs. style which ren iered his comedy ineffective and
Scene, AUSTRIA. disagree bli, ada, ite:d him in a more peculiar manner to the part of the Stranger.
As to the plut of this piece it is simple enough. His sorrow was truly dignised and simple, his It is an Escape dramatised—One or two attempts misanthropy was majestic, and the whole of his fail ; but a guard being put asleep, or his eyes representation was suited to the tone of feeling i covered, and a great coat thrown over the prisoner, of the Stranger; it was a warm heart, ke niy the catastrophe is fortunately brought about It sonsible of injury; a 'oating husband, with a has certainly as much merit as most things of distempered sensibility of honour; a friend more the kind; but, in scientific effect and incident, credulous than prudeni; in a word, a man of ex
is inferior to Tekeli. tensive philanthropy, whose powers of mind, and Mr. Hook, juo. is a young man of much talent; high wrought delicacy of feeling, served rather to and it is to be lamented that he confines himself attract misfortune, to accumula'e and fasten it
to translating, and the importation of what is per. upon hiin, than to lighten it by a worldly philo-haps not very well worth the freighi -The chief sophy, and an obvious yielding to the streajn.
merit of this Piece, however, is the Music which All the features of this varied character, the more
accompanies it. subtile distinctions, and nicer traits, were inost
The excellence of Mr. Hook, the composer, is admirably caught and enibodied by Mr. Young in
not fully understood He is truly a master; his
music has a distinct character of its own. his performance on the above night. His julgment was conspicuous in what may
the sweetness, the plaintiveness, and simplicity be called the grand style of acring,—11) sjuking
of the Scotch melody, without its weakness and subo nale parts; in other words, in subduing
inonotony.-It thus produces a pleasing and then in the general ease and simplicity of na
gradually increasing impression, when listened to ture, and bringing forward and rendering promi
with aliention. It is stricıly the music which is nent inose parts alone, to which strength and
suited to Silvan scenery ; to Gondolas gliding effect belong. His laste was exercise l in a just through the waters on a summer's evening—to and forcible sel ciion of bauties, as well in
uny thing that is tranquil, placid, and Arcadian. the delivery of the dialogue and tone and feeling
He neither excels in gaiety or greatness; his oft characier, as in ihe choice of attitude and
music has too much sentiment for the one, and
100 much regularity for the other. general manner of personation : we can say no His C. rrectness never mude him languid
pastoral kind of music (we mean the lialian or mechanical ; his warmih was natural feeling, pastoral) where simplicity does not preclude elerising by due degrees to its proper height. In the
gance, nor nature science, Mr Hook is not only 6C nt of which he rela'es his mi furmines to Baron
the first master of his time, but we believe, withSteinfurs, he : a. not surpassed 'y Kemble; and
out exception that he is perfectly at the head of in the ricon iliation with his wife, Kemble alone
There is one song in this piece peculiarly in has xcelled him. Mr Litchfield's Mrs Haller is inferior only
this master's best manner. The words, we believe, to Mr. Sildons. On T ursday night, July 16, was produced at
“ The village in which I was born." this thcatre a liew melodrama, called The From some accident, however, the whole Fortress
It is from the pen of Mr. T. Hook, || effect of this song was spoilt by a nost barbarous the author of Tekeli, a'id is a fretransla'iun from | inelegance-a strain of peculiar sweetness was the French. The name of the French piece is terminated by a full burthen, or symphony, or Lee I'venements d'un Jour
The following are
whatever they call it, of Tol, lol, de, rol, lol; and the principal
which Mr. Taylor, to mend the matter, gave DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
with infinite fun. Surely this should be omitied,
as the song alluded to is the sweetest in the whole The Governor ...
Mr. CHAPMAN. piece. Count Everard..
To conclude, this Melo-Drama was received Count Adolphus. Mr. CARLES. with great applause, and must prove extremely Oliver
Mr. DE CAMP. popular.