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His hands upraised, he cries, in raptured rage,
"Belshazzar! Son of the morning,
From thy bright path above, resplendently burning,
Thy branches all blooming, thy garden perfuming,
Babylon weeps o'er her portion of sorrow,
"The earth is at rest, and breaks forth into singing,
"Thou-king of terrors! lord of death and doom! Where shalt thou fly, from the curse of thy gloom? The bright lights of heaven are quench'd on thy path, Its angels anoint thee with vials of wrath! Earth trembles beneath thee, heaven totters on high, Where, wretched outcast! where wilt thou fly? Hell yawns to receive thee, it stirs up the deadAll griesly the spectre kings leap from their bed; 'Art thou weak as we?' they ask in fell mirth, 'Who didst scatter, like dust, the throne of the earth?'
Go-King of Babel-this night is thy last,
THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE.
From the German of Schiller.
(FROM THE SALE-ROOM.)
In ancient times, when Genoa had rebell'd,
Who, as he will'd, their factious spirit led,
On their new state assembled to decide:— "With your good leave, I will relate to you What happen'd to the beasts, like you oppress'd?""Speak, speak, Fiesco," cry'd the motley crew.
"Weary with anarchy and civil broils,
* The animals, collected then like you, To mould their government anew, Of the three forms presented to their choice, For which do you suppose they gave their voice?"— "O for the popular!" at once they cried. "You're in the right of it," replied Fiesco; "a democracy they chose; And on whate'er their rulers should propose, Each was to have his vote.
"It chanced that Man Against their infant state a war began. Bull, Lion, Eagle, Tiger, Leopard, Bear, For vigorous defence prepare;
Goats, Pigeons, Sheep, and all the reptile race,
"Just what they did-an aristocracy
The consequence-The general good
A Stag to lead their armies went ;
Rending the air with hideous shout,
OF A HIGHLAND CHIEF, EXECUTED AFTER THE REBELLION.
A literary friend of ours received these verses, with a letter of the following tenor:
"A very ingenious young friend of mine has just sent me the enclosed on reading Waverley. To you, the world gives that charming work; and if in any future edition you should like to insert the Dirge to the Highland Chief, you would do honour to "Your sincere Admirer."
The individual to whom this obliging letter was addressed, having no claim to the honour which is there done him, does not possess the means of publishing the verses in the popular novel alluded to. But, that the public may sustain no loss, and that the ingenious author of Waverley may be aware of the honour intended him, our correspondent has ventured to send the verses to our Register.
SON of the mighty and the free!
SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS;
THE QUEST OF SULTAUN SOLIMAUN.
O, FOR a glance of that gay Muse's eye,
That lighten'd on Bandello's laughing tale,
When Giam Battista bade her vision hail!*
Given by the natives of that land canorous;
We Britons have the fear of shame before us,
In the far eastern clime, no great while since,
Such Monarchs best our free-born humours suit,
But Despots must be stately, stern, and mute.
*The hint of the following tale is taken from La Camiscia Magica, a novel of Giam Battista Casti.