Quitting the helm, while at his mandate close
The gates of Janus, and the tribes repose:
Or to posterity transmit cach deed

Of those who dar'd in Freedom's cause to bleed;
Him who in Olmutz' cursed dungeons lay,
By Despots long secluded from the day,
Ere Austria's Eagle, of her plumage shorn,
Left ether's heights, and to the ground was borne.
Or brave Kosciusko, in an evil hour

To Poland lost, while, with gigantic power,
The North's foul Harpy seiz'd her struggling prey;
Carnage awhile then dimm'd the solar ray,
Till Death, that great avenger, on her Throne
His banner fix'd, and claim'd her for his own.
FEBRUARY, 1798.

* La Fayette.

IMITATION OF MARTIAL.

THIS print, in Europe's general history bound,
With all its Monarchs scepter'd, rob'd, and crown'd,
(Wrought in the graver's broadest, blackest tone,)
Js Catharine, despot of the frozen zone.

But could the pencil mental features trace,
And give as well her spirit as her face,

This plate would stride o'er portraits, books, and maps,
And swallow all my library perhaps.

INDIAN ODES.

BY THE LATE REV. W. B. STEVENS,

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE Scenery of the following Odes is supposed to lie in the most wild and unenlightened Parts of India. The Names of the two adverse Countries, Hindvar and Oglu, are fictitious. Rutren, or as he is called, Ishuren, or Ruddiren, is one of the three chief Divinities among the Indians: his Office is that of Destruction, and he is the favourite Deity of the Malabars. The Goddess Chaday, is believed by that Nation to be the Mother of the Dirumurtigol, under which general denomination the three Divinities are included.

"TWAS

RUTREN AND CHADAY.

ODE I.

As at the sad and and solemn hour,
When Midnight wrapp'd the regions round,
And wayward Hags of secret Pow'r

Charm'd the air with angry sound;

From Indian fires, a dying flame

Gleain'd with faint lustre through the cypress-shade, Which to the fevered eye of Fear became

A thousand Giant-Forms, in fancied hues array'd.

While hungry panthers urg'd their furious way,
Yell'd to the glooms, and mock'd their shrieking prey;
While, waken'd by the sound, the lordly snake
Rais'd his crown'd head in horror from the brake,
Say, Muse, what spectres darted through the glade ?
Where moan'd her fate the visionary maid?

And where the warriour-spirit stalk'd along,

And wav'd his airy bow, and howl'd his hideous song?

First the Sons of Rutren came,

Fierce in arms of fiery show;
Leaders once of mighty name,
All that bare and bent the bow.

Strong to slay and swift to fly,
All that fought, and all that died;
Fearless of the battle-cry,
Hindvar's terror, Oglu's pride.

Rutren led the warrior-crew
O'er the dews of Oglu's field;
Well the valiant power I knew,
By the bow and by the shield.

Red with lightnings glanc'd his spear,
Martial as he mov'd along;
Death-birds scream'd in frighted air;
Clashing javelins join'd their song.

Virgins all that died for Love,
Who embalm'd the crimson'd youth;
Shedding in the cypress grove
Tears of Woe, and Tears of Truth:

Warriour-mothers, warriour-wives,
Warriour-daughters join'd the train:
All who pour'd their patriot-lives
Freely on the' empurpled plain:

All who climb'd the funeral pyre,
(Such the purest offerings come)
Who, enshrin'd in bow'rs of fire,
Sought, spontaneous, Chaday's dome,

These the Nymphs that Chaday led,
Spirits fair of generous flame;
From th' Elysium of the Dead
Warriours thus and Virgins came,
All, to such the boon is giv'n,
Free that live, and firm that die,
Once in every year of Heav'n
Breathe again the Indian sky;
Treading thus their fav'rite ground:
While they dance in mystic throng;
Big with notes of haughty sound,
India's Genius weaves the song.

"Ye fairer souls! ye warriours slain!
“Diffuse around your fire divine!

"So India's sons, a living train,

"Shall lead their rites to Rutren's shrine,

"Shall swiftly sweep the walks of War, "For ever bold, for ever free; "And Rutren, from his crimson car, "Shall give the wreath of Victory. "So India's Nymphs, on Oglu's plain, "Shall pay their vows to Chaday due; "So shall they weep no Lover slain, "The Lover crown'd, the Virgin true." He spake. The golden eye of Day appear'd, And Rutren led the Heroe-band

All sad and sorrowing from their native strand; Chaday curs'd the sacred light,

The living God of Fire she fear'd,

And swiftly sought again the bowels of the Night, Swift with her fled the virgin train;

But India's Genius lov'd no other plain,

On Indian ground for ever shall he stay, Nor shun the depths of night, nor fear the fires of day.

ODE TO THE SUN.

* ODE II.

HAIL to the God, whose golden ray
Shall beam upon the silky lap of Earth!
Soon shall he sweep his rising way
O'er the old eastern ocean, broad and fair;
Or, borne upon the bosom of the air,
Shall peer along the sky-clad mountains hoar:
Thee, God, the sons of Indian birth,
Wak'd to new life by thee, adore:

They feel thy sacred flame, and own thy glowing pow'r.
No more the sullen shades of Night,
No more the dreary glooms affright;
We hear no more the lion's growl,
Nor panther fierce of fiery soul;
Dispers'd has ev'ry shade of Hell,
And left the Welkin fair and free,
Left for where shapes unholy dwell,
The land of Light and Liberty.

Arise, ye sons of India, rise!

The Lord of Heav'n ascends the skies,
And flings th' empurpling dawn around;
For see, each flow'r of Indian ground,
Fresh-breathing from the dews of night,
Embolden'd by the sacred light,

* This, and the Songs of War and Victory, are supposed to have been sung, or recited, by a Chorus of Bramins, at different times, as the different occasions required.