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Uat be it your's to triumph in disgrace—Above the storms of Fate be your ' s to tower , — Uncbang'd is Virtue , or by time , or place , Uuscared is Justice by the throne of
power . No by the Tyrant ' s heart let fear be known , Let the Judge tremble who perverts his trust ; Let proud Oppression totter on his throne , Fear is a stranger to the good and just .
And is there ought amid the Tyrant s state , Or ought in mi ghty nature ' s ample reign—So excellently good—so grandly great As Freedom struggling with Oppression ' s chain ?
Swells not the soul with ardour at the view ? Bounds not the breast at Freedom ' s sacred call ? Ye noble Martyrs—then she feels for you —• Glows in your cause and crimsons at your fall .
And shall Oppression vainly think—by fear To quench the fearless energy of mind ? And glorying in your fall exult it here , As tho' no free-born soul was left behind ?
For He who gave the life we share , With every charm His gift adorning , Bade Eve her pearly dew-drops wear , And dressed in smiles the blush of Morning-.
TWO SONNETS ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET . [ FROM POEMS BY JOHN KEATS . } I . The poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun , And hide in cooling trees , a voice will
run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper ' s ;—he takes the lead
In summer luxury , —be has never done With his delights ; for when tired out with fun , He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed .
The poetry of earth is ceasing never ; On a lone winter evening , when the frost Has wrought a silence , from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song , in warmth increasing ever , And seems to one , in drowsiness half lost , The Grasshopper ' s among some grassy hills . December 30 , 1816 .
Poetry . —To the Exiled Putriots , Muir and Palmer , &c . 6 & ?
CANZONETTE . BY TIJE XATE JOHN BOWDLER , JUN . ESQ . "Tis sweet , when in the glowing west The Sun ' s bright wheels their course are leaving , Upon the azure Ocean ' s breast Wo watch the dark wave slowly heaving . An 4 oh ! at glimpse of early morn , When holy Monks their beads are telling , 'Tis sweet to hear the hunter ' s horn
From glen to mountain wildly swelling , And it is sweet , at mid-c | ay hour , Beneath the forest oak reclining , To liear the driving tempests pour , Each sense to fairy dreams resigning . 'Tis sweet , where nodding rpeks around The nightshade dark is wildly wreathing * , ™ o listen to some solemn sound From harp or lyre divinely breathing .
And sweeter yet the g-enuine e-low Of youthful Friendship ' s high devotion , ftes pon ^ ive to the voice of woe , When heaves the heart with strong emotion . A # 4 Xftu ^ i js « w e $ t with many a joy , < Tl *» t 4 > oUc by i , aartlflKs measure j Aa&fcgP IM&te&t , pritji } ess # lJU > y , fc * toflfluil tbWffht » n& ## <*** plea * i > r <> .
II . BY LEIGH HUNT . Green little vaulter in the sunny grass , Catching your heart up at the feel of June , Sole voice left stirring 'midst the lazy
noon , When e ' en the bees lag at the summoning brass ;—And you , warm little housekeeper , who class With those who think the candles come
soon , Loving the fire , aud with your tricksome tune Nick the glad sUent moments as they pass j—O sweet and tiny cousins , that belong , One to the fields , the other to the
hearth , Both have your sunshine ; both though small are strong At ypur clear hearts j and both were sent on earth To ring in thoughtful ears this natural
song , —In doors and jftut ,- —summer and winter , —JVIirtfu jQecember 30 j 18 M * .
Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Oct. 2, 1817, page 623, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2469/page/51/