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A gaysome swain is wandering still,
New pleasures seeking ever;
And longer than his wanton will
His love endureth never.

My heart beats hard against my breast,
So hard-can I confide now?
No! confidence might break my rest,
And faith will not be tried now.

Oft, in the crowd, we trip and fall,
And who escape are fewest :
I hear my own deliverer call—
Of all the true the truest.

But, silly maiden! look around,
And see thy cherish'd treasure;
Who rests or tarries never found
And ne'er deserv'd a pleasure.

Should he disclose his love to me
Whilst in this forest straying,
Were there a tongue in every tree,
What might they not be saying!"

BATAVIAN ANTHOLOGY.

HUGO GROTIUS.

HUIG DE GROOT (commonly known by the name of Hugo Grotius) was born at Delft on the 10th of April, 1583. When he was only

fifteen years old, Henry the Fourth called him the Wonder of Holland: at eighteen, he obtained, as a Latin poet, a distinguished reputation. Of his classical attainments and general knowledge we need scarcely speak; they are every where felt and allowed. His very name calls up all that the imagination can conceive of greatness and true fame.

His most elaborate poem in the Dutch language, Bewijs van denwaeren Godtsdiesnt (Evidence of the true Religion,) was written during his confinement at Louvesteijn, in the year 1611. He laid the ground-work of that attention to religious duties which is so universal in Holland. The authority of his great name, always associated with Christianitywith peace with literature-with freedom and suffering and virtue has ever been a bulwark of truth and morals. Holland is at this moment disturbed by a renewal of the controversy in which Grotius and Barneveldt took the leading part; and it would seem as if the better cause has the weaker advocates. The modest epitaph which Grotius wrote for himself covers his remains at Delft:

"Grotius hic Hugo est, Batavum captivus et exul.
Legatus regni, Suecia magna, tui."

His poetical works in his native language seem hardly worthy of his astonishing reputation. His son Pieter de Groot was a more successful Dutch poet than his illustrious father. A single specimen may be allowed to intrude, if it were only that it is the production of Hugo Grotius. It is the Dedication of the religious poem which we have mentioned.

Neemt naet onwaerdig aen dit werkstuk mijner handen.

"Receive not with disdain this product from my hand, O mart of all the world! O flower of Netherland! Fair Holland! Let this live, tho' I may not, with thee My bosom's queen! I show e'en now how fervently I've lov'd thee through all change-thy good and evil' days

And love, and still will love, till life itself decays.

If here be aught on which thou may'st a thought bestow, Thank Him without whose aid no good from man can flow. If errors meet thy view, remember kindly then

What gathering clouds obscure the feeble eyes of men ; And rather spare than blame this humble work of mine, And think 'Alas! 'twas made-'twas made at Louvesteijn.'*

BATAVIAN ANTHOLOGY.

* Louvesteiju was the place of confinement whence his wife liberated him.

WHY ARE PROFESSIONAL MEN INDIFFERENT

POETS?

PROFESSIONAL avocations have a deadening influence on the finer sensibilities of the mind; they destroy and annihilate our loftier aspirations, and reduce all that we perceive and feel to the dull standard of reality. Many of the great poets lived in the infancy of science, and the great ones who have lived as it was approaching maturity, have endeavoured as much as possible to blind their eyes to its progress; and to represent things as they seem, and not as they can be demonstrated to be.

Professional avocations are entirely at variance with the phantasms of imagination. It is theoretically a fine thing, (for instance,) to make the practice of law a profession, to devote our lives to the distribution of justice, to settle the differences of our neighbours, to come forward as the advocate of the oppressed, to plead the cause of the innocent, and to be the champion of those who have no earthly help. Nor is it a less fine thing to alleviate the corporeal sufferings of our fellow creatures, to smooth the pillow of sickness, to disseminate the blessing of health, and

to cause the languid and filmy eye of the dying man to look a blessing on our kind, though endeavours are unavailing. Turn the picture; and what do we behold in the actual and breathing world? The lawyer selling his eloquence to the support of any cause, and prostituting his talents for the sake of gain; while the physician measures out his kindnesses and attentions in the direct ratio of his expectations of being repaid.

It is not to be supposed that a divine, one who has made the oracles of truth his chief study, and the promulgation of them the serious business of his life, could even for a moment throw over his lines the flush of the ancient superstitions, at once so imaginative and poetical; and describe Jupiter in the conclave of Deities on the top of Olympus, instead of the everlasting and omnipresent "I AM," whose shadow Moses saw in the burning bush; and, instead of the sun and moon, which he has created, delineate Apollo with the golden bow, "the lord of poesy and light," and Diana with her woodnymphs.

It is not to be supposed that he will coincide in the opinions of a Dante, or a Homer, or promulgate their sublime, but often vague and absurd

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