• Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare [dares] not dream its own; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,

And tho' the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

Tho' wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of

rest;

'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath,

All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. 'Oh could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been,

Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene: As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So midst the wither'd waste of life those tears would flow to me.'

The succeeding stanzas begin with a strange vulgarism:

There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee.'

We know not the originals of the poems said to be from the French, nor whether in fact Lord B. thus denominated them merely to avoid responsibility for their sentiments. Napoleon's Farewell, not being of so private a nature as that of the noble Lord himself, may be transferred to our pages.

Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory
Arose and o'ershadowed the earth with her name.
She abandons me now, but the page of her story,
The brighest or blackest, is filled with my fame.

I have warred with a world which vanquished me only
When the meteor of Conquest allured me too far;

I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely,
The last single Captive to millions in war!

• Farewell to thee, France! - when thy diadem crowned me,

I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,

But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee,
Decayed in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth.

Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted

In strife with the storm, when their battles were won
Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted,
Had still soared with eyes fixed on victory's sun!
'Farewell to thee, France! - but when Liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then-
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again—
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice

There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us,
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!'

when a ship is thrown up in the wind, and the sails, becoming flaccid, shiver, or shake; or when they are first loosed, and are not filled. Suppose we read,

The shore to which their riven sail can never stretch again. Rev.

Art.

Art. 14. Poems on his Domestic Circumstances. By Lord Byron. To which is prefixed the Life of the Noble Author, and a Portrait of him. 8vo. IS. Edwards.

After the brief biography here compiled, we find 1. the Fare thee well; and 2. its attendant Sketch; 3. the Lines on the Star of the Legion of Honour; 4. an Ode beginning Oh, shame to thee, Land of the Gaul! 5. Verses on Madame Lavalette; 6. Napoleon's Farewell; and 7. the Ode, from the French, on Waterloo. We are not aware on what authority Nos. 4. and 5. are ascribed to Lord B., but the latter is more in the style of Anacreon Moore; and the former is very severe on the national character which it ascribes to modern France, particularly in what is here considered as her desertion of her once idolized hero, Napoleon. The third and fourth stanzas will evince its tendency:

Go, look through the kingdoms of earth,
From Indus, all round to the Pole,

And something of goodness, of honour, and worth,
Shall brighten the sins of the soul:

But thou art alone in thy shame,

The world cannot liken thee there;
Abhorrence and vice have disfigur'd thy name
Beyond the low reach of compare;
Stupendous in guilt, thou shalt lend us through time
A proverb, a bye-word for treach'ry and crime!
• While conquest illumin'd his sword,

While yet in his prowess he stood,

Thy praises still follow'd the steps of thy Lord,
And welcom'd the torrent of blood;

Tho' tyranny sat on his crown,

And wither'd the nations afar,

Yet bright in thy view was that Despot's renown,

Till Fortune deserted his car;

Then, back from the Chieftain thou slunkest away

The foremost t' insult, the first to betray!'

The portrait of Lord Byron is slightly executed, but is in some degree a likeness.

Art. 15. Lady Byron's Responsive" Fare thee well." 8vo. IS. Edwards.

It is stated that this poem is the production of a common friend of the persons most nearly interested:' but we doubt whether those persons will thank their friend for thus putting words and sentiments into the mouth of one of them, and making them public, even though they breathe affectionate regret. We decline, however, for the reason before given, (see Art. 13.) to dwell on the subject. Some lines, by another hand, intitled Conciliator to Lady Byron, are added to the preceding effusion.

Art. 16. Lines on the Departure of a Great Poet from this Country. 8vo. Is. Booth.

Of the spirit in which these lines were conceived, the short preface to them will afford a sufficient idea:

• The

The few following lines were written some months ago, and circulated among the author's friends, upon the occasion of the great poet alluded to quitting the country. However great the poetical merits of that celebrated person may be, who has for some years past been wearying the public with the waywardness of his fancies, and the gloom of a misguided imagination, the blemishes in his character are equally glaring, and one of the author's reasons for publishing these lines is, that there should be at least one public expression of the sentiments which are generally entertained concerning them.'

Of the manner in which this design has been executed, a brief extract or two will also be an adequate exemplification. The writer begins, in terms almost libellous, to speak of impious songs, of a mad career of crimes and follies run, of being grey in vice when life was scarce begun,' and proceeds to treat of the poet's' departure from England.

All the dear ties that social worth can claim,

Slain at the foot of headlong, heedless, Fame; -
These for his fate suppress the gen'rous tear,
Forbid each rising hope, or doubt, or fear.
Except the fear that our deserted shore
Should be polluted by his presence more.

Yet in this wreck of Honour, Truth and Love,
Where nought is left to praise, or to approve,
When all his falsehood and his guilt deplore,
Save those who love him for his vices more →
The Muse still owns him in his humours wild,
And blushes to behold her wayward child.
Yes, in that dark abode, that sinful mind,
There is a fane where Genius dwells enshrin'd;
Adorning, with a solitary pride,

The mind, a wilderness in aught beside:
Her altars beaming with unholy fires,

Fann'd by the breath of loose and wild desires,
The gloomy vices dark'ning in her train,
There Genius holds her barren court in vain.
From that perverted source no blessings rise

To make mankind more happy, good, or wise;

No thought that cheers us, and no hope that warms,

great

But all that shines is cold, and fruitless all that charms.'

He then invokes the possessor of this wasted mine,' and thus concludes:

How would it profit thee in time to come,

When summon'd to thy last most dreaded home,
Tho' men should venerate thy latest verse,
Tho' mournful Muses should adorn thy hearse,
To be recorded, when thy race is run,
England's best Poet, and her guiltiest Son.'

It is not competent for us to weigh the truth of the character thus unsparingly assigned to the great poet' in question: but we are sure that such an one ought not to be drawn untruly with impunity.

Art. 17. A Sketch from Public Life: a Poem, founded on recent domestic Circumstances: with Weep not for me! and other Poems. 8vo. IS. Hone.

A tirade of which the object and complexion are similar to those of the Lines above mentioned. For instance:

And for his verse! who has not glowed beneath

His vivid words that burn, and thoughts that breathe ?'
Who has not loved, admired, adored

and what?

A hardened villain! or a graceless sot!
Felt for the wretch to every vice a slave!
Gulled into admiration of a knave!

From Nature when he the dark portraits drew,
The Giaour we recognized, the Corsair knew;
And, dress them forth in glory as he will,
Scoundrels and knaves and villains are they still :-
So ill suffices all the gloss of rhyme,

To soften villainy, or varnish crime.
And shall his song protect him?'

No! all ye powers of verse! insulted Maids!
Confound his triumph! purify your shades!
Assert your rights to plead Truth's holy cause,
Nor lend your aid to violate her laws!
The holy fires that kindle song refuse,
And quench the inspiration of his Muse,
Till virtue warm it; and domestic love
And wedded constancy his lines approve.
If from his tongue the poison-froth must start,
And venom issue from his viper-dart,

Then, injured powers of Virtue! come along!

And crush the worm through all its slime of song.'

We need not enlarge. The subjoined poems" are trifles, light

as air."

1S.

Art. 18. Lines on the Conflagration of Moscowe. By the Rev. C. Colton, A.M. Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. 8vo. Taylor and Hessey.

Moscow, it is said, has risen so rapidly like a Phoenix from its ashes into new life and vigour, that a poem on its regeneration would now be more apt than a "twice told" lament on its late destruction. Mr. Colton, however, has chosen the latter theme, and thus he singeth it:

Now sinks the blood-red sun, eclips'd by light,
And yields his throne to far more brilliant night;
Rous'd by the flames, the blast, with rushing sound,
Both fed and fann'd the ruin that it found;

H 2

Long

Long stood each stately tower, and column high,
And saw the molten gulph beneath them lie;
Long rear'd their heads th' aspiring flames above,
As stood the giants when they warr'd with Jove:
Conquer'd at length, with hideous crash they fall,
And one o'erwhelming havoc covers all.
Nor Etna, nor Vesuvius, though combin'd
In horrid league, and chaf'd by every wind
That from the hoarse Eolian cave is driv'n,

Could with such wreck astound both earth and heav'n.
Rage elements! wreck, ravage all ye can,

Ye are not half so fierce as man to man!

Wide and more wide, self-warn'd, without command,
Gaul's awe-struck files their circling wings expand;
High o'er their head the bickering radiance towers,
Or falls from clouds of smoke in scorching showers:
Beneath their crimsom canopy they stood

Like bordering pines, when lightning fires the wood,
And as they hemm'd that grim horizon in,
Each read in each the horrors of the scene.

Some fear'd, accusing Conscience wak'd the fear,-
The Day of wrath and retribution near,

Deem'd that they heard that dreaded Voice proclaim,
"Thou moon to blood be turn'd, thou earth to flame!"'

The poet then assures the tyrant' that the city shall not burn unavenged, and, invoking Death, thus finishes:

But, king of terrors! ere thou seize thy prey,
Point with a ling ring dart to Moscow's fatal day;
Shake with that scene his agonizing frame,

And on the wreck of nations write his name!'

The line in p. 9., a rising scaffold and a falling throne,' exhibits an antithesis not in very good taste.

NAVAL AFFAIRS.

Art. 19. The Naval Monitor; containing many useful Hints for both the public and private Conduct of the young Gentlemen in, or entering, that Profession, in all its Branches, &c. &c. By an Officer in the Navy. 12mo. pp. 225. 6s. Boards. Law and Whittaker.

We have seldom perused so small a tract as this is with more satisfaction than we have received on the present occasion. The subject is of great national importance; and whatever contributes to improve the system of our naval establishment, or to open the minds and correct the morals of the youths destined to command the strong arm of our power, has a valid claim to our approbation. The author before us has evinced a perfect knowlege of his topic, and a thorough acquaintance with the manners, habits, peculiarities, and vices, occasionally existing in the seminary of a cockpit: whence our Hawkes, Boscawens, Howes, and Nelsons have emerged to protect their country and immortalize their own names. He is sensible of the immoral