صور الصفحة
النشر الإلكتروني

Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet,
The bonnie lark, companion meet,
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet,

Wi’ speckled breast,
When upward springing, blythe, to greet

The purpling east.
Cauld blew the bitter-biting north
Upon thy early, humble birth:
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth

Amid the storm ;
Scarce reared above the parent-earth

Thy tender form.
The flaunting flowers our gardens yield,
High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield;
But thou, beneath the random bield

O' clod or stane,
Adorns the histie stibble-field,

Unseen, alane.
There, in thy scanty mantle clad,
Thy snawie bosom sunward spread,
Thou lifts thy unasuming head

In humble guise;
But now the share uptears thy bed,

And low thou lies!
Such is the fate of artless maid,
Sweet floweret of the rural shade,
By love's simplicity betrayed,

And guiléless trust; Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid

Low i' the dust.

Such is the fate of simple bard
On Life's rough ocean luckless starred:
Unskillful he to note the card

Of prudent lore,
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,

And whelm him o'er.

Such fate to suffering worth is given,
Who long with wants and woes has striven,
By human pride or cunning driven

To misery's brink;
Till, wrenched of every stay but Heaven,

He, ruined, sink.
E'en thou who mourn'st the daisy's fate,
That fale is thine, – no distant date:
Stern Ruin's plowshare drives, elate,

Full on thy bloom,
Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight

Shall be thy doom !




Thou lingering star with lessening ray,

That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day

My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary, dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
That sacred hour can I forget,

Can I forget the hallowed grove,
Where by the winding Ayr we met

To live one day of parting love?
Eternity can not efface

Those records dear of transports past :
Thy image at our last embrace !

Ah, little thought we 'twas our last !
Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore,

O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar

Twined amorous round the raptured scene;
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest;

The birds sang love on every spray ;
Till too, too soon, the glowing west

Proclaimed the speed of winged day.
Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,

And fondly broods with miser care:
Time but the impression deeper makes,

As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary, dear departed shade !

thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ?


GEORGE CRABBE. – 1754-1832. “The Library," “ The Village," "The Newspaper," " The Parish Register," “ The Borough,

*** Tales of the Hall." Thomas MOORE. - 1779-1852. Celebrated for his “ Irish Melodies,” “Lalla Rookh,” “The Fudge Family in Paris," and " The Epicurean."

SAMUEL ROGERS. — 1763 -1855. The benevolent London banker and poet. * The Pleasures of Memory,' Columbus," Human Life,” and “Italy."



[ocr errors]

JAMES Hogg (the Ettrick Shepberd). — 1770-1835. " The Queen's Wake," “Madoc of the Moor," " The Pilgrims of the Sun;" other poems, and several novels.

JAMES MONTGOMERY. – 1771-1854. “ Greenland," “The Pelican Island," “ The Wanderer in Switzerland,”. “ The West Indies," “Prison Amusements," “ The World before the Flood," and other poems.

FELICIA HEMANS. — 1793 -1835. “ The Forest Sanctuary," " The Voice of Spring," “The Graves of a Household," "The Palm-Tree," " The Sunbeam," and many popular pieces; “ The Vespers of Palermo," a tragedy.

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 1792-1822. Queen Mab, Alastor," " The Revolt of Islam,” " Prometheus Unbound,” “The Cenci," The Cloud," 'The Skylark," and " The Sensitive Plant," are full of beauty of thought and expression.

John Keats. 1795-1820. “Endymion,” “Hyperion," “ Lamia," “ Isabella," and “ The Eve of St. Agnes.” A young poet of high promise.

HENRY KIRKE WHITE. — 1785-1806. A volume of poems.

LEIGH Hunt. — 1784-1859. Genial and graceful poet and critic. “ A Story of Rimini," “ The Palfrey," " A Legend of Florence;" essays, sketches, and memoirs.

REGINALD HEBER. – 1783-1826. " Palestine;" “ Europe, or Lines on the
Present War;" hymn, “ From Greenland's ley Mountains.”

ROBERT TANNAHILL. 1774-1810. Some Scottish songs.
Hannah MORE. — 1745-1833. “ The Inflexible Captive,".

Percy," and “The Fatal Falsehood," tragedies ; “ Cælebs in Search of a Wife;” and many other popular tales and prose works.

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN. — 1751-1816. Dramatist, orator, and statesman. “ The School for Scandal; " " The Critic,” a farce; “Speech in Trial of Warren Hastings."

JOANNA BAILLIE. 1762-1851. Several volumes of plays, minor poems, and
songs, among which are “De Montfort” and “ Count Basil."
MICHAEL BRUCE. — 1746-1767. Lochleven,"

," " An Elegy written in Spring."
Sir WILLIAM JONES. - 1746-1794. Song of Hafiz, " " Hindoo Wife."
Joux LOGAN.-1748-1788. " The Cuckoo,” “The Country in Autumn,"

ROBERT FERGUSON. - 1751-1774. “Guid Braid Claith,” “To the Tron Kirk

WILLIAM GIFFORD. - 1756-1826. “The Bæviad,” “The Mæviad;" editor of “The Quarterly."

WILLIAM SOTHEBY. 1757-1833. “ Orestes," “Saul,” “ Italy;" translations from Wieland, Virgil, Homer.

William L. Bowles. — 1762-1860. Sonnets," “Sorrows of Switzerland," “Missionary of the Andes."

JAMES GRAHAME. - 1765 -1811. “The Sabbath;" "Mary, Queen of Scots."

ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. 1766-1823. “ The Farmer's Boy," " Rural Tales," “Mayday with the Muses."

J. HOOKHAM FRERE. 1769-1846. “ Most Interesting Particulars relating to King Arthur, by the Brothers Whistlecraft.”

Hon. William R. SPENCER. 1770-1834. “Beth Gelert," and minor poems; translator of " Lenore."

MARY TIGHE. — 1773-1810. “Psyche, in six cantos."

John LEYDEN. – 1775 -1811. “Scenes of Infancy," "The Mermaid," “ Ode to a Gold Chain."

JAMES and HORACE SMITH. — 1775-1839. “Rejected Addresses."
GEORGE CROLY. 1780-1860. " Paris in 1815," “ Angel of the World,”
Catiline," "" Salathiel."

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. - 1784-1842. “Scottish Songs," " Sir Marmaduke Maxwell,”

," " The Maid of Elvan," “ Life of Wilkie."

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]



WILLIAM TexxANT. — 1785-1848. “Anster Fair," " Thane of Fife," “ Dinging Down of the Cathedral.”

EBEXEZER ELLIOTT. – 1781-1749. “ Corn-law Rhymes."

RICHARD BARHAM. – 1788-1845. “ Ingoldsby Legends,” “My Cousin Nicholas."

Jonx KEBLE. — 1790. “ The Christian Year."

CHARLES WOLFE. — 1791-1823. “ Burial of Sir John Moore," "Jugurtha in Prison."

ROBERT POLLOK. - 1799-1827. “ The Course of Time."

RICHARD CUMBERLAND. — 1732-1811. “ The West-Indian,” “ The Wheel of Fortune."

GEORGE COLMAN. - 1733-1794. “ The Jealous Wife," “ The Clandestine Marriage."

THOMAS HOLCROFT. – 1745 -1809. “ The Road to Ruin," “ The Deserted Daughter."

GEORGE COLMAN the Younger. — 1762-1836. " John Bull," “ Heir-at-Law,” “ Poor Gentleman,” “Newcastle Apothecary," " Lodgings for Single Gentlemen."

CHARLES R. MATURIN. — Died in 1824. “ Bertram," a tragedy; “Women."



[ocr errors]

One of the first of English orators and statesmen, author of the celebrated “Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful," " Reflections on the Revolution in France," and other essays and orations.


WHERE, Mr. Speaker, shall we look for the origin of this relaxation of the laws and of all government ? How comes this Junius to have broken through the cobwebs of the law, and to range uncontrolled, unpunished, through the land ? The myrmidons of the court have been long, and are still, pursuing him in vain. They will not spend their time upon me or you: no! they disdain such vermin when the mighty boar of the forest, that has broken through all their toils, is before them. But what will all their efforts avail ? No sooner has he wounded one than he lays down another dead at his feet. For my part, when I saw his attack upon the king, I own my blood ran cold. I thought he had ventured too far, and that there was an end of his triumphs. Not that he had not asserted many truths: yes, sir, there are in that composition many bold truths by which a wise prince might profit. But, while I expected from this daring flight his final ruin and fall, behold him rising still higher, and coming down souse upon both Houses of Parliament! Yes, he did make you his quarry, and you still bleed from the wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch, beneath his rage. Nor has he dreaded the terror of your brow, sir: he has attacked even you, — he has; and I believe you have no reason to triumph in the encounter. In short, after carrying away our royal eagle in his pounces, and dashing him against a rock, he has laid you prostrate. Kings, Lords, and Commons are but the sport of his fury. Were he a member of this house, what might not be expected from his knowledge, his firmness, and integrity! He would be easily known by his contempt of all danger, by his penetration, by his vigor. Nothing would escape his vigilance and activity : bad ministers could conceal nothing from his sagacity; nor could promises or threats induce him to conceal any thing from the public.


My lords, we have now laid before you the whole conduct of Warren Hastings, — foul, wicked, nefarious, and cruel as it has

, been; and we ask, What is it that we want here to a great act of national justice ? Do we want a cause, my

lords? You have the cause of oppressed princes, of undone women of the first rank, of desolated provinces, and of wasted kingdoms. Do you

want a criminal, my lords ? When was there so much iniquity ever laid to the charge of any one ? No, my lords: you must not look to punish any other such delinquent from India. Warren Hastings has not left substance enough in India to nourish such another delinquent. My lords, is it a prosecutor you want?

You have before you the Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors; and I believe, my lords, that the sun, in his beneficent progress round the world, does not behold a more glorious sight than that of men, separated from a remote people by the material bonds and barriers of Nature, united by the bond of a social and moral community, — all the Commons of England resenting as their own the indignities and cruelties that are offered to all the people of India.

Do you want a tribunal? My lords, no example of antiquity, nothing in the modern world, nothing in the range of human imagination, can supply us with a tribunal like this. My lords, here we see virtually, in the mind's eye, that sacred majesty of the crowni, under whose authority you sit, and whose power you exercise. We have here the heir-apparent to the crown. We have here all the branches of the royal family in a situation between majesty and subjection. My lords, we have a great hereditary peerage here,

- those who have their own honor, the honor of their ancestors and of their posterity, to guard. We have here a new


« السابقةمتابعة »