And in the accursed cup forgets her shame,
Her grief, her wrong, her infamy, her name;
With winning smiles, the mockery of truth,
Doats on the thing she hates, and gives her youth
And bosom to the stranger's lewd embrace;
With honied words, looks up into his face,
And with unblushing cheek, extends her hand
To take the price of lust! Thus, in the land
That gave her birth, an exile, doom'd to roam
Unloved and loveless; banish'd from the home
Of infancy, with all its tender ties-

A thing to mourn, to suffer, and despise ;
The street her home, her refuge, and her bed;
Nought but the stone whereon to lay her head;
To foul disease and cold neglect a prey,
She sinks at length in premature decay,
And is forgotten! None to follow then
Her ashes to the grave, and hope again
To meet hereafter: not one mourner's tear
Is shed o'er her, to not a bosom dear!
A parish funeral-and they place the dead
Alone within her cold and narrow bed,
Then leave her to her rest. All, all is o'er-
And there she sleeps. She never slept before
So softly! While her young, her injured heart-
Grown old before its time, and cast apart
From ev'ry joy-shall never, never beat
Again with sorrow; for her rest is sweet-
The victim of the world!

Oh, ye! the great,
The pamper'd minions of a lofty state,

Rich in the virtues wealth alone confers;

Pass her not by in proud disdain, for hers

Has been a trial that ye never knew.

Life has been soft, and sweet, and smooth with you!
Guarded secure from dark Temptation's power,
All joy and sunshine was Love's youthful hour.
Ye never knew man's baseness-his deceit ;
Your feelings won, then trampled at your feet!
Hers was a passion true, and strong, and wild;
Then feel for her-Misfortune's erring child—
The lone and destitute; and win her back,
By gentle means, to Virtue's heavenly track-
To that pure path from which her steps have strayed-
Ere hope shall cease, and life itself shall fade.

How sweet the thought! that your reclaiming hand
Should guide the pilgrim to a better land—
That she, the outcast and the vice-defiled,
Should learn again the virtues of the child;
Live hence the life unsullied by a blame,

And bless the hand that rescued her from shame!
Such deeds shall be rich treasures on your way,
To soothe and brighten many a future day,
Calm the sad heart, your lonely hours employ,
For Mercy brings its recompensing joy,

And Memory bears no moments half so dear

As when Compassion dries the mourner's tear !"

As a specimen of MR. CLEAVER's shorter poems I give, from a manuscript in my possession,

Honor and Dishonor.

"Honor to the King upheld,

Reigning true through every hour,
By the sacred laws of Justice,
And by Truth's eternal power!

"When the wisdom of the Monarch
Shines through every noble plan,
And his might is ever guided
By the duties of the man!

"When the emblems of his station,
Title, Sceptre, Throne, and Crown,

Are the glories of his greatness,
Not the playthings of renown!

"When his name is fondly worshipp'd,
And his word a call of might,
Proudly leading forth his people
Out of darkness into light!

'Teaching, raising, guiding ever,

Stooping not to fraud or wrong;
Love and kindness ever shewing

To the humblest of the throng!

"With a steadfast arm suppressing
Falsehood, Error, Vice, and Crime :-
Such shall be his regal duties,

Such adorn his name through time!

*But Dishonor to the Tyrant

Who, with mean and selfish heart,
Faithless to his lofty calling,

Basely plays the Traitor's part:

"And, with parasites to flatter
Each unjust, ignoble plan,
Sinks the duties of the Monarch
In the passions of the man!

When Oppression and Injustice
Stain the splendour of his state,
And the watchful sentry paces
Ever round his palace-gate!
"When the progress of the People

Shakes the pillars of his throne,
And his name in lieu of blessings
Linked with tyranny alone!

"He shall fall in dark debasement,-
For the hour of vengeance speeds
With a people's deep-drawn curses
For his base, unkingly deeds.

When the shouts of suffering thousands
Shall re-echo o'er his grave,

And the might of Right and Reason
Break the shackles of the slave !"

THE CHALONERS.

"A generous race, from Cambro-Griffin traced,

Famed for fair maids and matrons wise and chaste."

JOHN HALL STEPHENSON.

It is seldom that genius descends from sire to son; but the the first three generations of the Chaloner family connected with Cleveland were remarkable for mental activity and literary ability, producing no less than five men of letters, first and foremost of whom was

This distinguished warrior, statesman, and poet, was born in

London about the year 1515, and was descended from Trahayrne the Great, son of Maloc Krwme, one of the fifteen peers of North Wales, and of Gwenllyan, daughter of Howell Koedmore, a lineal descendant of Griffith, son of Llyllyan ap Jerworth, prince of Wales. He was educated at Cambridge; and afterwards attended Sir Henry Knevet on his embassage to Germany, where he attracted attention at the Court of Charles the Fifth. In 1541, when the emperor, contrary to the sensible advice of his old admiral, Andrea Doria, sailed with an armament to attack Algiers, Chaloner aceompanied the fatal expedition as a volunteer, and was shipwrecked on the coast of Barbary during a dark night; but, happening to strike his head against a cable, he escaped drowning by seizing it with his mouth as he was struggling with the waves, and was drawn up into the ship with the loss of some teeth. Returning to England soon after, he was appointed first clerk of the council, and held the office during the remainder of the reign of Harry the Eighth. On the accession of Edward the Sixth, we find Chaloner a favourite of Protector Somerset, whom he accompanied to Scotland, and by whom he was knighted for the valour he had displayed at the battle of Pinkie, near Musselburgh, fought on the tenth of September, 1547. On the twentieth of July of that year, Chaloner procured letters patent of the house and site of the late priory of Gisbro', which for three hundred and eighteen years has remained as a family possession.

From the fall of the Duke of Somerset, Chaloner's prospects at Court seemed to have received a blow;* and, on the accession of Mary to the throne, he must have needed to have been circumspect to save himself from the stake as a Protestant; but I find him in that reign representing Knaresborough in parliament, being elected along with Sir Humphrey Fisher in 1555, the year when Rogers, Hooper, Saunders, Taylor, Latimer, Ridley, and others, suffered martyrdom in England, and the

"The fall of his patron put a stop to his advancement; but he solaced himself under this reverse by the cultivation of literature, and of friendship with such men as Cooke, Smith, Cheke, and Cecil. The strictness of his protestant principles rendered his situation under the reign of Mary both disagreeable and hazardous; and he generously added to his perils by his strenous exertions in behalf of the unfortunate Cheke; but the services which he had rendered in Edward's time to many of the oppressed Catholics had interested their gratitude in his protection, and were thus the means of preserving him for better times."LUCY AIKIN'S Memoirs of the Court of Queen Elizabeth.

T