TO MY WIFE.

One general law guides nature from above,

“ Bloom, children, bloom, then bear your fruit and die.” But the bright orange tree and thou, my love ! Bloom in full sweets, and blooming, fructify.

Gemmingen.

He who can what he will a fortunate man :
He is wiser and greater who wills what he can!

Weisse.

TOAST.

Away with healths, and fill your glasses,

And drive the cheerful wine about ;
We'll think of toasts, and songs, and lasses,
When our o’erflowing bowl is out.

Lessing.
TOM'S SATIRES.
Tom publish'd satires.'gainst his friend, 'uis said-
If that be published, which is never read.

Lessing

SLEEP

Lovely sleep! thou beautiful image of terrible death,
Be thou my pillow-companion, my angel of rest!
Come O sleep! for thine are the joys of living and dying:
Life without sorrow, and death with no anguish, no pain.

Schmidt.
TO A CLASSIC:
Yes! thou hast talent-thine the golden store
Of all the Grecian, all the Roman lore.
But thou wilt fail—for in thy classic schools
Thou hast not learnt, my friend, to tolerate fools.

Schmidt.

RALPH AND I.

You always evil speak of me,
I good, whene'er I talk of thee.
Yet, strange, whate'er we say or do,
The world believes not me, nor you.

Kirk.

CONSCIENCE.

Conscience paid old Nunks a visit,
“ O 'tis you, informer! is it?
One of those that won't be quiet-
Rogue be gone! I'll have no riot.”

Kirk.

TO CLIMENE.

Thy ivory teeth, thy auburn hair,
Thy rosy cheeks are thine, my fair !
And thou wert charming couldst thou buy
A ray for thy lack-lustre eye.

Kirk.

Your head is bald—but don't with Fortune quarrel,
She only shows you how it wants a laurel.

Murr.
ALCHEMISTS.
How many an alchemist has proved an ass,
And brought his gold to copper and to brass.

Murr.

ON THE ANCIENTS.

Why should I distract my head,
Seeking what the ancients said ?
Why consult them- I can't see
That they e'er consulted me.

Nicolay.

Your map of travels—just to catch the unwary-
As if there were no Paterson, nor Carey.

Clodius.

TO A BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

O cruel girl! I did but steal one kiss,
And you have stolen away my heart for this.

Kretschmann.

You gave a kiss—a kiss that best of blisses,
And left a longing for a hundred kisses.

Kretschmann.

a

Dick is no fool, friend! be assur'd,

However it may strike you ;
But you are one, upon my word,
And he is very

.

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- In bicipiti somniâsse Parnasso

Memini... Persius. I was engaged, a short time since, and well-known pages of the Grecian in looking over some Cambridge drama. My only aim therefore ini Prize Compositions, among which the following sketch will be, to conwere imitations, in Greek iambic vey a general notion of the manner metre, of speeches from Coriolanus in which, as I imagined, each poet: and Henry the Eighth. While con- successively applied himself to the sidering these ingenious attempts to subject, drawing from it such mater invest British poetry with the tragic rials, and imparting to these such garb of ancient Athens, I was led form, colour, and arrangement, as into a fanciful speculation on the were most agreeable to his own temmanner in which Æschylus or So- per of mind and peculiar bent of phocles would probably have arranged genius. the materials employed by Shak- It will readily be supposed that speare in the construction of his dramatists of the ancient school matchless scenes. This meditation would not undertake to present in lasted so long, and proceeded so far, one fable the variety of incidents and as to become rather a dream than a multitude of characters comprehendreverie, and it terminated in a kind ed in an English historical play: of illusion, such as Corelli is said to Euripides, as I thought, allowed have experienced when the Devil himself the widest range; and, in (as he fancied) came before him in following his modern master, he must the form of a musician, and regaled be considered either to have crowdhim with a strain of inconceivable ed an unreasonable number of events harmony. The spirits that waited into a short space of time, or to have on my visionary hour were of a purer dispensed in some measure with the class. It seemed to me that the unities; I need not say that such three renowned masters of Grecian freedoms are by no means unprecetragedy were, by some unknown dented, even in the small portion of means, personally assembled, and Greek tragedy that has descended to holding a poetical conference, of modern ages. which I was permitted to be a hear- The drama of Euripides took its er. They had tasked themselves, in name, and derived its chief interest, a fit of sportive rivalry, to produce, from Elizabeth, the widow of Edward each after his own manner, a drama- IV. The scene was laid in London, tic poem, founded on the scenes of near the Tower. As usual, the poet Shakspeare; and it was agreed that ushered in his fable with a long prothe experiment should be made on logue, which was delivered by the Richard the Third.

Ghost of Henry VI. He began by To attempt more than a general apostrophising his ancestor Bolingoutline of these extraordinary prolu- broke, lamenting the day when that sions would, I fear, be thought pre- rebellious chief disembarked on the sumptuous, even if my remembrance shores of England, and laid the founof them were more perfect. Corelli, dation of so many national woes, so I believe, after awaking from his many public and private crimes, and dream, could never recollect one such unquenchable hatred and munote of all that the fiend had fiddled tual carnage among his kindred and to him. My mind, though somewhat descendants. He touched upon the more tenacious, has preserved few and vicissitudes of the civil war; the death indistinct traces of its visionary enter- of York, the prowess of his three tainment; anıl, while endeavouring sons; the murder of Prince Edward to recal the phraseology of particular at Tewksbury, and the imprison.passages that appear at times to float ment and death of Henry himself. across my memory, I have found my. Entering more fully into the transself unconsciously recurring to the old actions inmediately connected with

a

this drama, he related the marriage The water swell before a boist'rous stormof Edward IV. with the widow Eli. But leave it all to God. zabeth, and the mischiefs which

In the ensuing scene Richard and arose from that alliance; the poet Buckingham entered, having just of course not omitting to reflect with

conducted the young king to his his usual severity upon the female apartments in the Tower. A .consex as the source of all evils. The sultation followed on the expediency character and ambitious projects of of withdrawing Elizabeth and her Richard were then disclosed; the son from their sanctuary, and Buck, murder of Clarence, Edward's death, ingham urged at great length, and and the defenceless situation of his with added subtlety, the arguments royal progeny were all shortly de- assigned to him by Shakspeare, I for scribed; and the Ghost, after pre- violating the sacred retreat, if gentler saging further crimes and calamities,

means should fail. The chorus, like withdrew, announcing the approach Shakspeare's Cardinal, made a show of of Elizabeth. The queen entered, leading in her opposition, but the design proceeded

notwithstanding. younger son, and bewailing the death

As to the character of Richard, it of her husband. A messenger was

must at once be acknowledged that introduced, and communicated the neither Euripides nor the other Grearrest of Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan, cian dramatists appeared to conceive, at Pomfret.

The queen, alarmed, much less to have the power of convey. and bursting into fresh lamentations, ing, any perfect idea of that wonderful determined on taking sanctuary, and creation. Indeed, the qualities of was confirmed in her resolution by Richard, as we see them finally dethe sympathising Chorus, which in veloped in the play that bears his this scene performed the short and

name, after tracing them through the obsequious part assigned by Shak- busy scenes of Henry VI, are entirespeare to the Archbishop of York.* ly beyond the scope of Greek tragedy; The manner in which Elizabeth be- and to compare a tyrant of the moaned her children's danger, the Athenian stage with the “ proud, untimely fate of their royal sire, and subtle, sly, and bloody," the satirical, her own altered and forlorn condition, testy, superstitious, aristocratic, imgave this part of the tragedy a resemblance to the opening of Euripi- historic drama, would be to contrast

petuous, lion-mettled usurper of our des's Hercules Furens, where Me

an ancient monochromatic drawing gara, in the absence of the demi- with the masterpiece of a Venetian God her husband, whom she sup- colourist. poses lost to her for ever, ineffectu

Euripides, as I thought, gave more ally takes refuge, with her children, variety to the character, and threw in Jupiter's temple, from the tyranny into it a larger share of the peculiariof Lycus.

ties that distinguish the original, than Euripides found a chorus already either of his competitors. His Ridesigned, in that scene of Shak- chard showed alternately the smooth speare's play where the three Citizens and almost ironical hypocrisy of (to whom no other business is al. Polymestor, the insulting ferocity lotted) confer upon the aspect of the of Lycus,|| and the brave, uncomprotimes, compare their several recol- mising violence of Eteocles. I lections of former days, and give

After deciding on the conduct to vent to their common forebodings.t be used towards Elizabeth and the These were precisely the topics em

younger prince, Richard and Buck. braced in the lyrical strain that fol- ingham were joined by Hastings, lowed Elizabeth's departure, and the exulting at the downfal of Rivers, descant concluded with a slight am Grey, and Vaughan. In the ensuing plification of these lines :