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object of this work is, to illustrate the A pamphlet is about to be publish-
early state and connexion of these lan ed, entitled, “ Objections to the pre-
guages, on accurate and philosophical sent form and state of the Small-debt
principles. The light which is thus Court for the County of Edinburgh,
thrown on the structure of the Greek together with some reflections, gener-
tongue, gives a new and interesting al as well as particular.” The sub-
form to the whole of classic philology; ject of this pamphlet, as the writer
exhibits an extensive view of the pro- observes, is one of undoubted interest
cess by which the mind invents and to every inhabitant of the city or
improves articulate speech ; and leads county of Edinburgh.
to a development of the origin of the We understand that the Rev. G. J.
most ancient European nations. The Hamilton is preparing for publication,
notices ascertained in the course of in " Essays on some of the most interes-
vestigation depend, not on conjecture, ting subjects relating to Agriculture,
but on a camparison of almost every to rural and political economy, under
European language with those to which the patronage of the Honourable the
it is respectively allied. In the train Board of Agriculture.
of inquiry pursued in the researches
above mentioned, particular regard has
those having been examined which Literary Intelligence, English and

; bear no affinity to the Teutonic, as

FOREIGN. ted to it. O for a pian and outline of A Will speedily be published of the the whole work, reference may be Works of the Pocts, from Chaucer to made to page 505 of an Account of Cowper; including the best Transla. the Life and Writings of James Bruce tions of the Classics. It will form twenof Kinnaird, Esq. Author of Travels in two columns, and will, in every res

ty-two volumes, royal octavo, printed to Discover the Source of the Nile, in

pect, constitute one of the handsomest the years 1768-1773,” published library books that has appeared for selast year (1808.) It will form one volume 4to.

The works of the late Mr Barry, the Mr Walter Nicol, Designer of Gar- painter, will speedily be published in dens, &c. and author of the Forcing tain letters froin Italy, with an account

two large 4to volumes. They will conFruit and Kitchen Gardener, the Prac- of the principal works of art in that tiçal Planter, &c. will speedily pub- country; letters to and from Edmurid lish, in one volume 8vo. The Citizen's Burke, with other interesting pieces. Garden Directory, or Menthly Index Mr Bewick, of Newcastle, so deserof Work to be done in Town and Villa vedly celebrated for his skill in engravGardens, Parterres, &c. ; with Hints ing in wood, has, for a considerable on the Treatment of Plants and Flow- time, been engaged on a System of Ecoers kept in the Green-Room, the Lob- include about 450 plants, the most use,

, by, and the Drawing Room. It will ful in the Materia Medica, in Diet and contain also hints on the formation of Manufactures. The text has been pretown and villa gardens, the improve- pared by Dr Thornton, and will contain ment of their soils, &c, and will exhi- a body of valuable information relative bit the newest inodes of cultivating to the History and Uses of the several kitchen vegetables, sallads, herbs, fruits, Plants. There will be two editions, one flowers, and shrubs, so as to form a

on royal paper, of which only a small

number has been printed; and the other complete assistant to those Ladies and

on demy, neither of them inferior in Gentlemen who direct the management beauty to Mr Bewick's former producof their own gardens, parterres, &c. tions.

M:

veral years.

Mr Rose has announced some Obser- vations left by that acute critic Mr Rit. vations on the Historical Fragment of son, are in the hands of the present edi. Mr Fox, and an Original Narrative of tor; and so far as the purposes of corthe Duke of Argyle's Insurrection in rection and illustration can be served, 1685.

will be appended to the notes of Mr Mr Rylance is composing a romance, Warton. to be entitled, Francesco, or the Fool of A new edition of Lardner's Works is Genius, founded on the extraordinary in considerable forwardness, and is to life of Mazzuoli, celebrated as a painter, appear in monthly parts. The first part by the name of Parmegiand

will make its appearance on the first of Mr Park's edition of Warton's His Marchi, and the others in succession, on tory of English Poetry, is in a state of the first day of every month, or earlier, great forwardness, The editor's plan is at the option of subscribers. It is calnot only to revise both text and notes. culated that the whole works will be and free the extracts from the charge of comprised in about thirty-two parts, inaccuracy to which they have hitherto and that this will be the cheapest edi. been subjected, but also to supply a tion of the Works of Lardner ever pubContinuation in furtherance of Mr War. lished. ton's plan. The very copious Annotations The first volume of a new Analysis on Warton's History by the late learned of Chronology by Dr Hales, is expected antiquary, the Rev. George Ashby, to-' to appear this month. The work will gether with various Manuscript Obser- form three quarto volumes.

Poetry.

LINES,

LINES,
ON GENERAL Moore.

Written on hearing that the Inhabitants of

GLASGOW intended to erect a Monument WHY heaves Britannia’s bosom high?

to LIEUT.-Gen, Sir Joun MOORE, who Why o'er her cheek the grateful tear Bursts from her anguish-speaking eye,

was born in that City. While gazing on yon coming bier ? BLEST be the Chief who for his country

dies, 'Tis thine, illustrious Moore, 'tis thine; And rests unshrouded in a soldier's grave ;

For thee her tortur'd bosom bleeds, A grateful nation points where honour lies, For thee she weaves the wreath divine, And consecrates the ashes of the brave. A tribute to thy glorious deeds.

Ye kindred sons of silver flowing Clyde, Yet, what avails the burst of wo,

Pursile your just and generous design; The empty honours of a name ;

Moore was your ancient City's boast and In deach the gallane Chief lies low,

pride; Heedless, alike, of grief and fame. Glory demands, and ye devote the shrine. But nature's voice resistless cries,

Peace to his Shade! In early youth belov'd, Resistless flows the gushing tear :

The splendour of his riper years admir'd,

His skill and valour by his King approv'd, The wreaths of fame unbidden rise, To deck a tomb for ever dear.

And every soldier by his deeds inspir'd.

Victorious! Yet the Gallant Victor fell, His country's hope, his country's pride,

His memory to his country ever dear, He scorn'd the Tyrant's rage to fear ; Marble or bronze shall of his triumph tell, With glory crown'd, he bravely died,

While Friendship bathes the trophy with a And conquering clos'd his bright career. When gameless years have rolld away, Columns may rise, the arch sublimely bend,

Some Briton on Corunna's shore, To grace and dignify the warrior's name; While swells his glowing breast, shall say, But the fond heart, which sighs and sor.

In Freedom's cause here died the gal rows rend, lant Moore.'

B. Deplores the fatal sacrifice to Fame.

tear.

А

A DIRGE

Dreadful, against the councing shore, ON THE HERO WHO FELL AT CORONNA. The winds and waves cumultuous roar, INTREPID, firm, and void of fear, The corrent-hraving mound in vain

When may a soldier shed a tear? The stormy inroad would restrain, When may he, drown'd in anguish wild, The surges, with resistless sway, Go sorrowing like an orphan child?

Force o'er the labour'd mole their way, What sight to him shall grief impart ?

Scorn every weak resource of human coil, What sight alone subdue a herre

O'erwhelm'd the peopld town, and waste Which mortal peril dares defy ?

the cultur'd soil. 'Tis this to see a Hero die !

But when, by native fences barrid Like him who fell on Abram's height,

From billowy rige, the happier land, A champion of Britannia's Right;

And rocky clisis for ever stand Like him who sleeps in Malta's Isle,

To the wide-water d coast a guard, The Veteran of the Plains of Nile;

Such as on Vecia's southern steep Like him the foremost Son of War,

Look down deliance on the raging deep,
Who shook all France at Trafalgar; Such as on Dover's breezy down,
Like these-on Spain's Atlantic shore, On Gallia's hostile borders frown,
In victory died the HERO MOORE! Tho' billows urging billows roar,

And idly beat against the shore,
LINES,

While from the heights sublime the swain On WALLACE; or the Vale of ELLERSLIE. Mocks the vain efforts of the foaming mair, THIS rising bard sweeps sweetly o'er Till nature bids the delug'd surge subside, the string,

Hush'd is the tempest's voice, and refluent While the heroic Wallace is the theme; rolls the tide. The memory of the days of old he brings, So o'er Europa's ravaged plain

And in a raptur'd song, t' immortal fame, We saw the torrent wild of war

Of our great forefather consigns the name. Resist less spread its iron reign, From heav'n's high height,spirit of Wallace, And scatter roin wide and far : smile,

The embattled wall, the warlike band, When from the mountains of thy native Vainly the Tyrant's course withstand; vale,

Before the impious sons of Gaul Thou hear'st these strains, and musing, The legions fly, the bulwarks fall; think'st the while,

Yer Britain's floating castles sweep
Of deeds of other days; and in the gale, Invasion from her subject deep,
The song's resounding sound does echo- Yet by her rocks secure from harm,
ing sail.

Securer by her patriot arm,
Spirit of Wallace! smile, and bless this song, Iberia curns the battle's ride,
This soul-enchanting song, these tuneful Resists the injurious Tyrant's pride,
rhymes:

While, freely floating in the anbient sky, Safe on time's tide may they be borne along, Sacred to Freedom's cause, their mingled

And ever grateful live to distant times; ensigns fly.
And inay the bard, the steep hill as he
climbs

EPITAPHS.
That leads to fame, still strike the daring
lyre

To the Editor. To Wallace name; and thou, O heavenly

SIR,

Epitaphs are innumerable. Many are With thoughts and words sublime the bard not worth preserving, some are curious, inspire !

a few are excellent. The following may Lo! as the poble subject he pursues,

be amusing to some of your readers.-His efforts Caledonia grateful views ;

Their insertion will oblige your most Lo! with a bright'ning glory now he

humble servant,

GLOTIANUS. shines,

1. On BURBIDGE a Tragedian. Fame with a circling laurel now his head entwines.

Exit Burbidge.

2. On PIRON, by himself.
ODE,
FOR THE NEW YEAR 1809.

Ci git Piron, qui ne fut rien,

Pas meme Académicien.
By H. J. Pye, Esq. P. L.
FULL-orh'd in equinoctial skies,

3. On WILLIAM WRAY., When the pale moon malignant rides, Here lyeth, wrapt in clay, And bids the howling tempest sise,

The body of William Wray. And swells the ocean's briny tides,

I have no more to say.

On

muse,

4. On, John Wuite, Esq. M. P. 1640. That form, which like the morning sun Here lies a Juhn, á burning, shining light, Diffusing pleasure as the plant it chears; Whose Name, Life, Actions, all alike were

That voice, than which no melody afar, Wurte.

Borne on the silence of ghe cwilight star, 5. Ben JOHNSON's on his eldest son, an

And, by the gently wafting gale along, infant.

With softer murmur yields his even song,

Words, sweet as nectar, from her lips Rest in soft peace; and (asked) say, would flow, Here dotā lie

To chide misfortune and relieve my woe, Ben Johnson his best piece of Poetrie. Whilst all the bliss a mariner can feel, 6.

As from the friendly shore the zephyrs

steal, Vixi, peccavi, penitui, Naturae cessi.

Anxious to quaff Arabia's spicy gale, 7. On Q. ELIZABETH.

And all the fragrance of the breeze inhale, Juno poténs sceptris, et mentis acumine Ecstatic gave, and such delight he knew.

Such praise the envied object of her view Pallas, Et roseo Veneris fulget in ore decor ;

How sweet a trivial semblance to descry, Adfuit Elizabeth-Juno perculsa refugit,

How passing sweer, to mark with tearful Obstupuit Pallas, erubuitque Venus.

eye

A few lov'd lineaments of those we prize, 8. On WICKLIFF, by a Monk. As fancy veils chem with their native dies, The Devil's instrument, Church's enemy, But oh what voice can bold conception

find, People's confusion, Heretick's idol, Hypocrite's mirror; Schisme's broacher, Hat. To speak the transport of the blessed mind, red's sower, Lies' forger, Flattery's sink ; As, o'er the thought a charnier lov'd before who ac his death despaired like Cain, and Affection bending, learns to love it more, stricken by the horrible judgement of God, To mark the line that swells to be perus’d, breathed forth his wicked soul to the dark Tu kiss the words on which Euphemia mansions of the black Devil.

mus'd;

Nay, to hold converse with a kindred soul, 9. On Stephen the Fiddler.

For me the sweet responsive numbers roll, Stephen and time are now both even;

For me the devious accent flows along Stephen beat time, now time's beat Stephen. In all the breathing eloquence of song.

Can fancy trace no echoing virtue here, To be continued.

To taste congenial, to affection dear?

No beauteous unison that gently flows, EUPHEMIA.

To mark the soft vibration as it rose ? IF, in the polish'd verse, I rightly

trace, Yes-mutual truth, and mutual candor Stamp of that mind, so like her beau shine; teous face,

And kindred thought pervades each tender Great counterpart ! on which I lov'd to line, dwell,

Glows in the breathing word that knows no And dwelling fondly ever lov'd so well, guile, Euphemia's it surely stands confest, Pure as the language of the dimpled smile, Euphemia dearest to my faithful breast, True, as in unison it once could flow, 0 could that form in living beauty rise, In all the warmth of nature's kindling glow, Real, as oft it met my longing eyes, Fancy shall point me to a better part, When dubious, taughc co snatch a transient Aud wake to ecstacy the tender heert, gleam,

As, on the wings of love it seems to soar, of joy and hope-a visionary dream. To some blest region unattain'd before, Or could that voice, nu fancied bliss, im- Where the soft musings of Euphemia's part

voice The soothing balm of comfort to my heart. Seem to reprove my mercenary choice, Invoke as ofc a paradise to view

And bid me clasp the joys of life's increase, As fond imagination will renew,

When all is wisdom, harmony, and peace, I'd own the recollection's bounteous pow's, In those romantic groves, prefer to trace, Bid mem'ry wake to bless che frequent "The silent wonders of the flow'ry race, hour,

Seek in the shade the blest relief it bears, And, as I sought to recompense the past, And leave the world, its folly and its cares, Lament that envious days decline so fast, She seems to whisper, as my vows arise, Then would I think my verse, cho' dear it And hope shall waft their incense to the prove,

skies.

7. A. A faithless granscript of my ardent love, London, 1808.

LORD

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LORD RUTHVEN:

Sae ye niay mak' my lairdships thine,

I've tauld them a' sincerely 0.
A BALLAD.

I'll prie yere bonnie mou’lassie.
To Rutaven's gates, whose friendly
blaze,

Sae sang I to my bonnie maid, Was gleamin' thro' the storm,

And pried her lovely lippie 0, Wild wandrin' 'mid night's dreary maze, Her rosy cheek to mine I laid Aproach'd a maid forlorn.-

And took the tither sippie O.

While wooster Jock, wi' gloomie glowr, « O sair sair drives the bitter blast,

Bang’t up the mucchkin pingle 0;
And loud loud howls the win',

And when I kiss'd his trysted flow'r
Dark is the night, and rough the way, He dash't it in the ingle O.
Lord Ruthven, let me in ?"

I'll prie yere bonnie mou’ lassie.
• Who knocks sae loud at my castle gate? His bardship at the ingle sat,
Who knocks sae late at e'en ?

Wi' musin' potions dizzy O,
Go, stranger, go,-nor langer wait,

Gae thro' Pegasus wings a keek,
For here ye'll not get in.”-

My stars,

bonnie hizzie O! “ And does my Lord forget that voice He swore by Heliconian spring, He ought sae well to know;

Nae mair to mount Pegasus O;
Does he forget his daughter's voice,

His fancy soar'd on higher wing
Nor will he hear her woc!”

Amang the bonnie lasses, O. “ My Rosa, once !-my Rose no more!

l'll prie yere honnie mou' lassie.
My pride ! ---but now my shame!

A hame-spun loon, wi' bonnet blue,
O go and seek some stranger's door,

The gill-stoup was caressin' o,
For pity I have nane.”

“ Cries, Wow the warld's turn'd, I trow,
“ If there's none in the father's breast,

For sin' is grace embracin' o!
Yet still chou art a man :

A tough-tried saunt, o' Cameron's race,
O louder howls the northern blast,

Gaz'd wi' true gospel rapture O;
O louder cries my son.”-

And cries, My bairn, o'gifts o' grace

Ye con a bonnie chapter 0.
• In yonder vault thy mother lies,

I'll prie yere bonnie mou' lassie.
Low mould'rin' in the clay;'
I'll reach to thee the death-house key,

My thrillin' heart wi' lovin' beat,
And well thou knowest the way!

Against my breast gade thumpin' O,

My bluid arous'd wi' genial heat,
• Beneath the cloud of night I'll lye; In Aowin' tides ran jumpin' O:
My Lord, thy will be done;

Her e'en like starnies set in blue,
I'll seek death's cold abode this night, Her face sac mildly bloomin' O,
But save,
O save my son !'! !

Her tender smile, sic witchcraft threw,
Glasgow.

R. G. Wad nature's self illumine O.

I'll prie your bonnie mou' lassie.
SONG.

Though rough frae nature's quarry torn,
I'll prie yere bonnie mou' lassie.

Nor polish'd by instruction o,
COME gie's a kiss my bonnie lass, Maun bide the touts o' learnin's horn
And lean upon my bosom 0,

And college-taught correction O.
Or wi' yere sweet lip prie the glass-

I hae a saul and duntin' heart,
'Twill taste like roses blossom O.

Wha'e'er was the creator 0,
Though seated 'mang an unco hive That soars aboon the fetter'd art,
O'blyrhsone chiels for drinkin' o, To gifts ne'er gien by nature 0.
Wha wi' the cap and noggie strive

I'll prie yere bonnie mou' lassie.
To drown their cares and thinkin' 0.
CHORUS.

Though now my youthfu' bluid he warm,
I'll prie yere bonnie mou’lassie,

O ravens wing my tresses O,
Weel ye wi' a warmin' kiss,

And fancy still has pow'r to charm
For nane but you, my true lassie

A sigh frae 'mang the lasses O.
Can bestow sic charmin' bless

I'll store up a' my love for thee,
This a' my dower, a heart fou' leal,

And press ye to my bosom 0,
A random gift at rhymin' 0;

Your wisdom's bloom will pleasure me,
A mind that's made to think an' feel,

When eild has cropt yere blossom 0.
Nor at my lot repipin' O,

I'll prie yere bonnie mou’lassie.
A loving wish to mak' you mine, Banks of Nith 2

HIDALLAN.
A saul which loves you dearly 0,

Ist Sept. 1808. S

PRO

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