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Of hopes and fears, of gladness and of gloom,
Hung on that slender filament of sound!
Life's guileless pleasures, and its griefs profound
Seemed mingling in thy horoscope of doom.
Thy bark is launched, and lifted is thy sail
Upon the weltering billows of the world.

But oh! may winds far gentler than have hurled
My struggling vessel on, for thee prevail :

Or, if thy voyage must be rough, mayst thou

Soon scape the storm and be—as blest as I am now ! P.

97.

A limited edition of these poems was first printed for private circulation; and it was the favourable notice which they attracted, that encouraged the Author to give them to the public. We are glad to perceive that a third edition is already announced, so that the public seem to have been, in this instance, before-band with us. But we could not pass over a volume of such modest pretensions, displaying at the same time so much genuine poetical feeling, sensibility, and refinement.

Art. IX. Time's Telescope for 1824; or a complete Guide to the Almanack: containing an Explanation of Saints' Days and Holidays; with Illustrations of British History and Antiquities, &c. Astronomical Occurrences in every Month, and the Naturalist's Diary. To which are prefixed Outlines of Historical and Physical Geography; and an introductory Poem on Flowers. By Bernard Barton. 12mo. pp. 330. Price 9s. London. 1824. WE have more than once noticed the former volumes of this

very agreeable miscellany, and we must do the ingenious Editor the justice to report, that his eleventh volume is by no means inferior in point of merit or variety to its predecessors. The work is, indeed, kept up with great spirit, and no pains have been spared to render it as useful as it is entertaining. Among the novelties in the present volume are, the Outlines of Geography contributed by Dr. Myers of Blackheath, to whom, it appears, that the public are also indebted for the astronomical portion of the work; the introductory poem by Bernard Barton;

the

Methods of Treatment' recommended by the Royal Humane Society-these have been attached, at the Society's expense, to the principal Annual pocket-books, and ought to be in every one's possession; a portrait of Captain Parry, and two woodcut representations of Esquimaux costume; and the usual poetical gleanings from contemporary and anonymous writers. It indicates a striking improvement in public taste, that many of the most elegant of these poetical pieces, are gathered from

the periodical works of the day. The following beautiful stanzas appeared in the Literary Gazette.

TO A BUTTERFLY RESTING ON A SKULL.

• Creature of air and light,

Emblem of that which may not fade or die!
Wilt thou not speed thy flight

To chase the south wind through the sunny sky?
What lures thee thus to stay

With Silence and Decay,

Fix'd on the wreck of dull Mortality?

The thoughts once chamber'd there

Have gather'd up their treasures, and are gone !
Will the dust tell us where.

They that have burst the prison-house are flown?
Rise, nursling of the Day,

If thou wouldst trace their way!

Earth has no voice to make the secret known.

'Who seeks the vanish'd bird

By the forsaken nest and broken shell ?
Far thence he sings unheard,

Yet free and joyous midst the woods to dwell!
Thou, of the sunshine born,

Take the bright wings of morn!

Thy hope calls heavenward from yon ruined cell.'

There are some very pleasing lines on the death of Bloomfield by Bernard Barton; but they are too long to transcribe. Some of the poems are not attributed to their proper authors. The Sonnet to December, taken from the Literary Gazette, is by Henry Kirke White. The stanzas at p. 182. beginning,

I saw a dew drop, cool and clear,'

is by one of the well known Authors of Hymns for Infant Minds, and appeared in the Associate Minstrels. The following elegant and touching lines occur under the notice of the late Marchioness of Worcester's death. The time,' it is stated, was so short between her illness and her death, that the artificial flowers were suffered to remain in her hair."

Those roses glittering o'er her pallid brow,
Why shine they full of life and freshness now,
When she, their lovely wearer, sinks in death,
And every sigh but seems her parting breath!
Alas, false wreaths! had you light tendrils been,
Such as in summer's bright'ning bowers are seen,
Mournful would droop each trivial leaf and flower,
And die with her they graced in life's gay hour;
Nor, like these fair companions of her doom,
As radiant grace her revels and her tomb.'

R. R.

Art. X. Suffolk Words and Phrases; or an Attempt to collect the Lingual Localisms of that County. By Edward Moor, F. R. S. 3 F. S. A. 12mo. pp. xx., 526. Woodbridge. 1823.

THE East country' was thought by Grose scarcely to afford

a sufficiency of local words to form a division of the Provincial Glossary. Whereas the leading words in this collection of Suffolcisms exceed two thousand five hundred! The learned Compiler, already well known to the public as the Author of a treatise on Hindu Infanticide, on his return, after twenty years absence, to his native country, was much struck with the recurrence of long forgotten provincialisms, which produced, as they fell on his ear, a sensation similar to the welcome sight of an old friend.' Mr. Wilbraham's Cheshire Glossary first suggested the idea of publishing a collection of the lingual peculiarities of East Anglia. As he proceeded in the compilation, he was surprised to find the number of words common to Scotland and Suffolk,- more probably than are 'common to Suffolk and Essex.' These, he imagines, may be referred to a common Saxón origin.

We confess that we do not attach much importance to such collections in a philological point of view; for etymology receives but little illustration from by far the larger portion of these provincial vulgarisms; yet, they are often curious and highly amusing. To a Suffolk man, the volume will afford a fund of entertainment: others will almost find it hard to be lieve that such a language passed for English in the nineteenth century. And why should Suffolcisms be less interesting or venerable, or less entitled to be perpetuated, than the lingo, which gives so much effect to the low dialogue in the Scotch novels? We cannot but wish, however, that Mr. Moor had not admitted so many mere vulgarisms in pronunciation, as they add to the bulk, without enhancing the value of the volume. Such elegant variations as gollop for gallop, nut for not, sile for soil, siller for cellar, ondeniable, neest for nest, fust for first, and a thousand others, come under the general descript tion of a peculiarity of pronunciation with regard to the clipped or lengthened vowels; but they do not amount to a corruption of the words, nor have any claim to be recorded as lingual localisms. Very few, if any of these, are confined to Suffolk. Of sheer provincialisms we have some exquisite specimens in 'Farrisee, Pronounced like Pharisee-a Fairy. Fairidge in Norfolk. The green circlets in pastures we call Farrisee-rings.

Jingo. By Jingo-a well known oath-sometimes, I think, by St. Jingo. I was not aware there was such a saint, or of the origin of the oath; until circumambulating the lake of Geneva, we came to a Volg XXI. N.S....

H

town beautifully situated opposite Vevay, called St. Gingoulph, and pronounced like our Jingo, with the initial softened.

Jobanowl. A thick-headed fellow. Nowl is a name of the head with us. Under Jobbernoule, Nares explains it-" thick head, blockhead; from jobbe, dull in Flemish, and cnol, a head, Saxon; used as an appellative of reproach."

Now miller, miller, dustipoul,

I'll clapper-claw thy jobbernoul.

Old Play.

Gumshun. Cleverness, talent-used quaintly. "He has some gumshun in him," is as much as to say, he is no fool. This word seems to be in use in other parts. Gumption occurs in the Bridal of Triermain, Canto I., and in other recent Scottish works. muckle gumpshion as Tammy," I lately read in a Scotch magazine.

As

Gumshus or Rumgumshus.' Quarrelsome, offensive, obstinate. "Come-don't you be rumgumshus."-" A fared kienda rumgumshus"-this would apply to an unmanageable man or horse,

Peterman.' The name by which we formerly called, and perhaps do still call, the Dutch fishing vessels that frequented, or frequent, our eastern coasts and ports-particularly, as far as I am concerned, Bawdsey-ferry, and Hollesley-bay. They were also called Peter boats. From Nares I find these terms not local.

"Moreover there are a great number of other kind of fishermen belonging to the Thames, called Hebbermen, Petermen, and Trawlermen." Howel's Londinop.

Goochy. India Rubber.'

"

Can there be any connexion between this last word and the name of the worthy member for Suffolk?-These must suffice as specimens; we have taken them at random, and have been obliged to pass over some highly entertaining articles on account of their length. Some unexpected illustrations occur of the obsolete terms which have puzzled commentators, occurring in our old poets. But old Tusser is the poet for Suffolcisms, and the copious citations from his "Five Hundred Points,' contribute not a little to the interest of the work. We are rather surprised at not finding any reference to our old friend Bloomfield, the Suffolk Poet: the word Horkey, which he has rendered familiar to us, is not even noticed by Mr. Moor. This is an inexcusable oversight. Northamptonshire has a poet and a lingo of its own; but it might have been worth while to consult John Clare's Poems, as we suspect that some Suffolcisms might be detected in them. Many of these provincialisms are very extensively prevalent. The appropriation of Christian names to birds is very general, as Robin Redbreast, Jenny Wren, Jenny-crudle, and Jenny-hulet, Tom Tit, Dicky-bird, Poll Parrot, Jack Daw, Ralph, for a raven, and Madge for a magpie, Philip for a sparrow, Jacob for a starling, and

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King Harry, alias Jack Nicker, for a gold-finch, were new to us.-The following whimsical letter, anonymously transmitted to the Editor, is, no doubt, a spurious composition, but it is in the genuine Suffolk dialect; and we shall therefore insert it, for the purpose of exercising the ingenuity of our readers.

Dear Frinnd,

I was axed some stounds agon by Billy P. our 'sesser at Mulladen to make inquiration a' yeow if Master had pahd in that there money into the Bank. Billy P. he fare kienda unasy about it, and when I see him at Church a' day he sah timmy, says he, prah ha yeow wrot-so I kienda wef't um off-and I sah, says I, I heent hard from Squire Das yit, but I dare sah, I shall afore long-So prah write me some lines, an send me wahd, wutha the money is pabd a nae. I dont know what to make of our Mulladen folks, nut I-but somehow or another, theyre allus in dibles, an I'll be rot if I dont begin to think some on em a'l tahn up scaly at last; an as to that there fulla he grow so big and so purdy that he want to be took down a peg-an I'm glad to hare that yeow gint it em properly at Wickhum. I'm gooin to meet the Mulladen folks a’ Friday to go a bounden, so prah write me wahd afore thennum, an let me know if the money be pahd, that I may make Billy P. asy. How stammin cowd tis nowadays-we heent no feed no where, an the stock run blorein about for wittles jest as if twa winter-yeow mali pend ont twool be a mortal bad season for green geese, an we shant ha no spring wahts afore Soom fair. I clipt my ship last Tuesday (list a' me-I mean Wensday) an they scringe up their backs so nashualy I'm afeard they're wholly stryd-but 'strus God tis a strangd cowd time. I heent got no news to tell ye, only we're all stammenly set up about that there corn bill-some folks dont fare ta like it no matters, an tha sah there was a nashun noise about it at Norrij last Saturday was a fautnit. The mob thay got 3 efigis, a farmer, a squire, an a mulla, an strus yeowre alive they hung um all on one jibbit-so folks sah. Howsomever we are all quite enough here, case we fare to think it for our good. If you see that there chap Harry-give my sarvice to em.

I remain,

Yar true frinnd,

What will the Yankees' say, if this volume should find its way to America, at learning that such English as this is still spoken in the mother country? We ought not to be very severe on the subject of Americanisms. Another thirty years, however, by means of Sunday Schools, Bible Societies, and other innovations, will make sad havoc among these remnants of the olden phraseology. Our antiquaries must make the most of their time."

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