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The morn is up again, the dewy morn,

With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom,
Laughing the clouds away, with playful scorn,
And living as if earth contained no tomb,-
And glowing into day: we may resume
The march of our existence: and thus I,

Still on thy shores, fair Leman! may find room
And food for meditation, nor pass by
Much that may give us pause, if pondered fittingly.


The fat Actor and the Rustick.-NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
CARDINAL Wolsey was a man

Of an unbounded stomach, Shakspeare says,
Meaning, (in metaphor,) forever puffing,
To swell beyond his size and span;

But had he seen a player in our days
Enacting Falstaff without stuffing,
He would have owned that Wolsey's bulk ideal
Equalled not that within the bounds
This actor's belt surrounds,
Which is, moreover, all alive and real.
(This player, when the peace enabled shoals
Of our odd fishes

To visit every clime between the poles,
Swam with the stream, a histrionick Kraken,
Although his wishes

Must not, in this proceeding, be mistaken;
For he went out professionally,-bent
To see how money might be made, not spent.
In this most laudable employ

He found himself at Lille one afternoon,
And, that he might the breeze enjoy,
And catch a peep at the ascending moon,
Out of the town he took a stroll,
Refreshing in the fields his soul,

With sight of streams, and trees, and snowy fleeces,
And thoughts of crowded houses and new pieces.

When we are pleasantly employed time flies;
He counted up his profits, in the skies,



of the state.

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Until the moon began to shine,
On which he gazed a while, and then


Pulled out his watch, and cried-" Past nine!
Why, zounds! they shut the gates at ten.'
Backward he turn'd his steps instanter,*
Stumping along with might and main ;
And, though 'tis plain

He couldn't gallop, trot, or canter,

(Those who had seen him would confess it) he
Marched well for one of such obesity.
Eyeing his watch, and now his forehead mopping,
He puffed and blew along the road,
Afraid of melting, more afraid of stopping,
When in his path he met a clown
Returning from the town.

"Tell me," he panted in a thawing state,
"Dost think I can get in, friend, at the gate ?"
"Get in!" replied the hesitating loon,
Measuring with his eye our bulky wight,
"Why-yes, Sir, I should think you might;
“A load of hay went in this afternoon."


Speech of Catiline before the Roman Senate, in reply to the charges of Cicero.-CROLY'S Catiline.

-CONSCRIPT Fathers +


I do not rise to waste the night in words:

Let that plebeian talk; 'tis not my trade ;
But here I stand for right. Let him show proofs;
For Roman right; though none, it seems, dare stand
To take their share with me. Ay, cluster there,
Cling to your master; judges, Romans-slaves!
His charge is false; I dare him to his proofs;
You have my answer: ***-Let my actions speak.
But this I will avow, that I have scorned

And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong:

Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword,


Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back, dongs me not half so much as he who shuts

* Immediately.

The gates of honour on me,-turning out
The Roman from his birthright; and for what?-
To fling your offices to every slave; (-Looking round him.)
Vipers, that creep where man disdains to climb;
And having wound their loathsome track to the top
Of this huge mouldering monument of Rome,
Hang hissing at the nobler man below.-

Come, consecrated lictors! from your thrones;
(To the Senate.)
Fling down your sceptres;-take the rod and axe,
And make the murder, as you make the law.


The Battle Hymn of the Berlin Landstrum.*
FATHER of earth and heaven! I call thy name !

Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll;
My eyes are dazzled with the rustling flame;
Father, sustain an untried soldier's soul.
Or life, or death, whatever be the goal
That crowns or closes round this struggling hour,
Thou knowest, if ever from my spirit stole

One deeper prayer, 'twas that no cloud might lower
On my young fame !-O hear! God of eternal power!

God! thou art merciful.-The' wintry storm,

The cloud that pours the thunder from its womb, But show the sterner grandeur of thy form;

The lightnings, glancing through the midnight gloom, To Faith's raised eye as calm, as lovely come, As splendours of the autumnal evening star,

As roses shaken by the breeze's plume, When like cool incense comes the dewy air, And on the golden wave, the sun-set burns afar.

God! thou art mighty!-At thy footstool bound,

Lie gazing to thee, Chance, and Life, and Death;
Nor in the Angel-circle flaming round,

Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath,
Is one that can withstand thy wrath's hot breath.—

The Landstrum (German) is the military force of the country, as distinguished from the regular standing army :-the whole mass of the undisciplined militia, called out in some sudden exigency of the state.

Wo in thy frown-in thy smile victory!

Hear my last prayer!-I ask no mortal wreath;
Let but these eyes my rescued country see,
Then take my spirit, All Omnipotent, to thee.

Now for the fight-now for the cannon-peal-
Forward-through blood, and toil, and cloud, and fire!
Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel,

The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire;
They shake-like broken waves their squares retire,—
On them, hussars !-Now give them rein and heel;

Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire :— Earth cries for blood,-in thunder on them wheel! This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph-seal!


Extract from "Heaven and Earth,—A Mystery.”—By

RAPHAEL, the Archangel.-NOAH.-JAPHET.

Scene near the Ark, just before the beginning of the Deluge. Japhet. Он, say not so,

Father! and thou, Archangel, thou!

Celestial mercy lurks below

That pure serenity of brow.

Let them not meet this sea without a shore!
Save in our ark, or let me be no more!!
Noah. Peace! child of passion, peace!

If not within thy heart, yet with thy tongue
Do God no wrong.

Live as he wills it-die, when he ordains,
A righteous death, unlike the seed of Cain's.
Cease! or be sorrowful in silence, cease
Το weary Heaven's ear with thy selfish plaint.
Be a man!

And bear what Adam's race must bear, and can.
Japh. Ay, father! but when they are gone,
And we are all alone
Floating upon the azure desert, and

The depth beneath us hides our own dear land,
And dearer, silent friends and brethren, all
Buried in its immeasurable breast,

Who, who, our tears, our shrieks shall then command ?
Can we in desolation's peace have rest?
Oh God! be thou a God, and
While yet 'tis time!


Renew not Adam's fall: Mankind were then but twain,

But they are numerous now as are the waves,

And the tremendous rain,

Whose drops shall be less thick than would their graves, Were graves permitted to the sons of Cain.

Noah. Silence, vain boy! each word of thine's a crime! Angel! forgive this stripling's fond despair.





Japh. Hark! hark! deep sounds, and deeper still,
Are howling from the mountain's bosom :
There's not a breath of wind upon the hill,


Yet quivers every leaf, and drops each blossom: Earth groans, as if beneath a heavy load.

Noah. Hark! hark! the sea-birds cry! In clouds they overspread the lurid sky,

And hover round the mountain, where before Never a white wing, wetted by the wave,

Yet dared to soar;

Even when the waters waxed too fierce to brave.

Soon shall it be their only shore,

And then no more!

Japh. The sun! the sun!

He riseth, but his better light is gone,
And a black circle, bound

His glaring disk around,

Proclaims Earth's last of summer days hath shone !
The clouds return into the hues of night,

Save where their brazen-coloured edges streak
The verge where brighter morning's used to break.
Noah. And lo! yon flash of light,

The distant thunder's harbinger, appears!

It cometh! hence, away,

Leave to the elements their evil prey!

Hence, to where our all-hallowed ark uprears
Its safe and wreckless sides.


Japh. Oh, father, stay!

Leave not my Anah to the swallowing tides ! Noah. Must we not leave all life to such? Begone! Japh. Not I.

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