They start at the boom of the minute-gun-
They see by the lightning's livid flash
The cutter leap the billow dun,

Like a fiery steed beneath the lash-
Her pale crew clinging to the mast,
Are driv'n like spirits before the blast.--

All night they hear the signal peal

All night, by the blazing cannon's breath, They see the bark like a drunkard reel Above the yawning gulf of death— Hoarse utterance whispers forth the prayer"God save the helpless Mariner!"

The morning breaks on Nieve's wave
That calmly sleeps as airs of June,
And all that drifts above the grave

Of the cutter in the deep lagoon
Is a maiden fair, with long black hair,
In the death-clasp of the Mariner.

THOMAS CORWIN.

clusion could have been conceived, than this beautiful allegory. Its very repetition is one of the finest strokes of poetical art. It is scarcely inferior to that most affecting scene, in which Ophelia appears deliriously singing fragments of wild songs, and dancing so recklessly and unfeelingly over the hot embers of her misery. Her light expressions seem the fittest interpreters of the grief that rent her young heart, just as her reason passed within the cloud. As the convulsions of our nerves prevent the extension of joyous emotion into the limits of distraction, throwing off the excess in laughter; so is there a point beyond which grief cannot be endured, without suffering the fate of Ophelia, and at which the

current must turn aside into seemingly irrelevant levity, if, when forced to remain on the borders of madness, we would keep on the side of sanity. This seems to be the position of Shakspeare. Those who read the preceding sonnets most worthily, will be most fully prepared to appreciate the fine allegory of TEARS-as subtle as it is touching.

Sad as is the condition here exhibited, we must regard it not only as literally true, but as scarcely less than inevitable. The lot of genius is loneliness and sorrow. The beautiful drapery which the poet hangs over all the apartments of our life, is woven from the bitterest of human experiences, and dyed from the blood of his own heart-wrung out with anguish.

THE MARINER.

IN Nieve's Bay the winds are high,
The yesty waters lash the shoals,
The lightnings seam the ebon sky,

Around the broken thunder rolls,
And to and fro beneath its shocks
The green earth like a cradle rocks.

The startled eagle seeks his nest,

The trembling flocks troop to their fold,

For some serener place of rest

The fawn forsakes the dangerous wold,
And through the air a voice of fear

Shrieks, "Woe to the helpless Mariner !"

The reaper rises from his work,
And upward casts a pallid look
Upon the low heavens, grim and mirk;
The shepherd leans upon his crook,

And from his simple heart a prayer
Sends up for the helpless Mariner.

The hoary sailor looks aloft,

And for his brethren heaves a sigh;'
The maiden turns her blue eye soft
Along the storm-enshrouded sky-
Trembles from her young heart the prayer-
"God save the helpless Mariner !"

The anxious mother walks the floor,
Thinking upon her sun-burnt child,
Whose pathway lies amid the roar
Of India's waters dark and wild,
And from her pale lips bursts the prayer-
"God save the helpless Mariner !"

They start at the boom of the minute-gun-
They see by the lightning's livid flash
The cutter leap the billow dun,

Like a fiery steed beneath the lash-
Her pale crew clinging to the mast,
Are driv'n like spirits before the blast.-

All night they hear the signal peal

All night, by the blazing cannon's breath,
They see the bark like a drunkard reel
Above the yawning gulf of death-
Hoarse utterance whispers forth the prayer-
“God save the helpless Mariner !”

The morning breaks on Nieve's wave
That calmly sleeps as airs of June,
And all that drifts above the grave

Of the cutter in the deep lagoon
Is a maiden fair, with long black hair,
In the death-clasp of the Mariner.

THOMAS CORWIN.

character of THOMAS CORWIN.

it. It is natural for the country to wish

HOWEVER much we may differ with a permanent resident of Ohio, by the re he cannot fail to command our admira: in that state, in the year 1794, s thoroughly conscientious man in opinion, moval of his parents to Warren court tion and confidence. This is especially father, for many years, was one of the true in these days of compromise and most respectable and honored men where so much is lost, at least in tem- legislature of the state, he was distin servility to the claims of party: for Ohio. For a long time a member of the porary consequence, by standing out guished for the dignity and imparaty against such claims, when their moral with which he presided, for several years, Isonal virtue is necessary to resist and and is worthy of the father. The early correctness is doubtful, the highest pre- over its upper branch. The son was overcome the temptations of personal in- pursuits of the former were of the bu terest to yield to them. These remarks bler kind; suited to a position entrey are illustrated in the present position and unpretending, and admirably calculated, His under the influence of the consistent ico has marked him before the nation lish in the early character the foun course in relation to the War with Mex- presence of a virtuous example, to estab and the world. He has dared to think tions of the highest future usefulness. As as his conscience bade him-to think and might be supposed, from the influence of speak boldly what he thought. His en- such early associations, instantly acting Iemies may denounce him as a traitor, upon a strong and sensitive mind, it is and his friends reproach him for impru- not surprising that uncompromising firm dence; but thinking men of the present ness, and integrity of character, should times cannot but honor his manly inde- every where be associated with s commend the virtue that is displayed in neighborhoods of his early life. pendence, as posterity will assuredly name, among the companionships and The community in which he was ele to know something of the history and cated, and where are to be found i This, it is warmest friends, because there be is be known, were not less sensible of his 2 county, Kentucky, July 29th, 1794. At early accustomed to habits of the the age of four years, he was made a and thus fitted him, at an early day, Thomas Corwin was born in Bourbon ents than of his virtues. His mind was

character of such a man. proposed briefly to give.