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was new,

fear ;

The home of my childhood ; the haunts of my | Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mane, prime ;

With wild hoof scouring the desolate plain; All the passions and scenes of that rapturous time And the fleet-footed ostrich over the waste When the feelings were young, and the world Speeds like a horseman who travels in haste,

Hieing away to the home of her rest, Like the fresh bowers of Eden unfolding to view ; Where she and her mate have scooped their nest, All, all now forsaken, forgotten, foregone ! Far hid from the pitiless plunderer's view And I, a lone exile remembered of none,

In the pathless depths of the parched karroo. My high aims abandoned, my good acts undone,

Afar in the desert I love to ride, Aweary of all that is under the sun,

With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side, With that sadness of heart which no stranger Away, away, in the wilderness vast may scan,

Where the white man's foot hath never passed, I fly to the desert afar from man.

And the quivered Coranna or Bechuan

Hath rarely crossed with his roving clan, Afar in the desert I love to ride,

A region of emptiness, howling and drear, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side! Which man hath abandoned from famine and When the wild turmoil of this wearisome life, With its scenes of oppression, corruption, and which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone, strife,

With the twilight bat from the yawning stone ; The proud man's frown, and the base man's Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root, fear,

Save poisonous thorns that pierce the foot ; The scorner's laugh, and the sufferer's tear, And the bitter-melon, for food and drink, And malice, and meanness, and falsehood, and is the pilgrim's fare by the salt lake’s brink; folly,

A region of drought, where no river glides,
Dispose me to musing and dark melancholy; Nor rippling brook with osiered sides ;
When my bosom is full, and my thoughts are Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount,
high,

Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty mount,
And my soul is sick with the bondman's sigh,- Appears, to refresh the aching eye ;
0, then there is feeedom, and joy, and pride, But the barren earth and the burning sky,
Afar in the desert alone to ride !

And the blank horizon, round and round,
There is rapture to vault on the champing steed, Spread, — void of living sight or sound.
And to bound away with the eagle's speed, And here, while the night-winds round me sigh,
With the death-fraught firelock in my hand, And the stars burn bright in the midnight sky,
The only law of the Desert Land !

As I sit apart by the desert stone,

Like Elijah at Horeb's cave, alone, Afar in the desert I love to ride,

“A still small voice” comes through the wild With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side, (Like a father consoling his fretful child), Away, away from the dwellings of men,

Which banishes bitterness, wrath, and fear,
By the wild deer’s haunt, by the buffalo's glen ; Saying, ---- Man is distant, but God is near !
By valleys remote where the oribi plays,
Where the gnu, the gazelle, and the hartebeest

graze,
And the kudu and eland unhunted recline

MAJESTY IN MISERY; By the skirts of gray forest o’erhung with wild

vine ; Where the elephant browses at peace in his wood, GREAT Monarch of the World, from whose Power And theriver-horse gambols unscared in the flood,

Springs And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will

The Potency and Power of Kings, In the fen where the wild ass is drinking his Record the Royal Woe my Suffering sings; fill.

And teach my tongue, that ever did confine Afar in the desert I love ro ride,

Its faculties in Truth's Seraphic Line,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side,

To track the Treasons of thy foes and mine.
O’er the brown karroo, where the bleating cry
Of the springbok's fawn sounds plaintively; Nature and law, by thy Divine Decree
And the timorous quagga's shrill whistling neigh (The only Root of Righteous Royaltie)
Is heard by the fountain at twilight gray ;

With this dim Diadem invested me :

THOMAS PRINGLE.

OR, AN IMPLORATION TO THE KING OF KINGS.

With it the sacred Scepter, Purple Robe,
The Holy Unction, and the Royal Globe:
Yet am I levelled with the life of Job.

But, for refusal, they devour my Thrones,
Distress my Children, and destroy my bones ;
I fear they 'll force me to make bread of stones.

The fiercest Furies, that do daily tread

My Life they prize at such a slender rate Upon my Grief, my Gray Dis-crowned Head,

That in my absence they draw Bills of hate,
Are those that owe my Bounty for their Bread.

To prove the King a Traytor to the State.
They raise a War, and Christen it The Cause,
Whilst sacrilegious hands have best applause,

Felons obtain more priviledge than I :

They are allowed to answer ere they die; Plunder and Murder are the Kingdom's Laws ;

'Tis death for me to ask the reason Why. Tyranny bears the Title of Taxation,

But, Sacred Saviour, with thy words I woo Revenge and Robbery are Reformation,

Thee to forgive, and not be bitter to
Oppression gains the name of Sequestration.

Such as thou know'st do not know what they do.
My loyal Subjects, who in this bad season
Attend me (by the law of God and Reason),

For since they from their Lord are so disjointed
They dare impeach and punish for High Treason. As to contemn those Edicts he appointed,

How can they prize the Power of his Anointed ?
Next at the Clergy do their Furies frown ;
Pious Episcopacy must go down ;

Augment my Patience, nullifie my Hate,
They will destroy the Crosier and the Crown. Preserve my Issue, and inspire my Mate :

Yet, though We perish, bless this Church and Churchmen are chained and Schismaticks are State.

free'd, Mechanicks preach, and Holy Fathers bleed, The Crown is crucified with the Creed.

UNDER THE CROSS.

CHARLES THE FIRST.

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Now, faint and sore afraid,

This day a solemn feast the people hold Under my cross, heavy and rude,

To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid
My idols in the ashes laid,

Laborious works : unwillingly this rest
Like ashes strewed,

Their superstition yields me; hence with leave
The holy words my pale lips shun,

Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
"O God, thy will be done !" This unfrequented place to find some ease,

Ease to the body some, none to the mind
Pity my woes, O God,

From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm
And touch my will with thy warm breath ; Of hornets armed, no sooner found alone,
Put in my trembling hand thy rod, , But rush upon me thronging, and present
That quickens death ;

Times past, what once I was, and what am now.
That my dead faith may feel thy sun, 0, wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold
And say, “Thy will be done !"

Twice by an angel, who at last in sight
WILLIAM CAREY RICHARDS. Of both my parents all in flames ascended

From off the altar, where an offering burned,
LOVE NOT.

As in a fiery column, charioting

His godlike presence, and from some great act LOVE not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay!

Or benefit revealed to Abraham's race?
Hope's gayest wreaths are made of earthly flow- Why was my breeding ordered and prescribed
ers,

As of a person separate to
Things that are made to fade and fall away Designed for great exploits, if I must die
Ere they have blossomed for a few short hours. Betrayed, captived, and both my eyes put out,
Love not!

Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ;

To grind in brazen fetters under task
Love not ! the thing ye love may change ; With this Heaven-gifted strength ? O glorious
The rosy lip may cease to smile on you,

strength,
The kindly-beaming eye grow cold and strange, Put to the labor of a beast, debased
The heart still warmly beat, yet not be true, Lower than bondslavě! Promise was that I
Love not!

Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver ;

Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him Love not ! the thing you love may die,

Eyeless in Gaza, at the mill with slaves,
May perish from the gay and gladsome earth;

Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke !
The silent stars, the blue and smiling sky,
Beam o'er its grave, as once upon its birth.

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain !
Love not!

Blind arnong enemies, 0, worse than chains,

Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! Love not! O warning vainly said

Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, In present hours as in years gone by!

And all her various objects of delight Love flings a halo round the dear ones' head,

Annulled, which mightin part my grief have eased.
Faultless, immortal, till they change or die.

Inferior to the vilest now become
Love not!

Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me :
They creep, yet see ; I, dark in light, exposed
To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong,

Within doors or without, still as a fool,
SAMSON AGONISTES.

In power of others, never in my own;

Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. A LITTLE onward lend thy guiding hand

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
To these dark steps, a little farther on ;

Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse,
For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade : Without all hope of day !
There I am wont to sit, when any chance
Relieves me from my task of servile toil,
Daily in the common prison else enjoined me,

SELECTIONS FROM “PARADISE LOST."
Where I a prisoner, chained, scarce freely draw

EVE'S LAMENT.
The air imprisoned also, close and damp,
Unwholesome draught; but here I feel amends, O UNEXPECTED stroke, worse than of death !
The breath of heaven fresh blowing, pure and Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave
sweet,

Thee, native soil ! these happy walks and shades,
With day-spring born : here leave me to respire. ' Fit haunt of gods ; where I had hope to spend,

CAROLINE E. NORTON.

SAMSON.

MILTON.

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