1827.] 



Domestic and Foreign. 



successive inheritances in myriads; and ill us. 

 trntions of all sii.es, shades, und shapes o| 

 approved propriety, apt and pretty, are at 

 every one's fingers'-ends, and always at hand, 

 and admitted, as of course, and no questions 

 asked. Practice has given L. E. L. consi- 

 derable facility, and applause and success no 

 little confidence; and l*t her write of what 

 she will, it will take a poetical air that will 

 secure readers, and frequently admirers. 



The " Golden Violet 3 ' is the prize of a 

 poetical contest, and several tales of romance 

 and chivalry are told by the competitors, in 

 a variety of measures. ToL. E.L., indeed, 

 it seems a matter of perfect indifference, 

 into what metre she plunges Trochaics, 

 Iambics, and Anapnests the medium is 

 equally navigable her agility and dexterity 

 are the same, and she floats or flows with 

 the same ease. At the close of the volume 

 are thrown in two or three smaller pieces, 

 which, to our own taste, are the best of the 

 book ; and of these, " Love's Last Lesson," 

 the best. It tells of the feelings of one who 

 is bidden by her lover to " forget'' him. The 

 pathos of the thing is true and deep. It 

 looks less like the mere effort of fancy than 

 the rest. It is either "inspiration,'' or she 

 knows and feels what she tells about. It is 

 the best of the volume. 



Teach it me if you can i'orgetfulness ! 

 I surely shall forget, if you can bid me ; 

 I, who have worshipp'd thee my god on earth." 

 I, who have bow'd me at thy lightest word. 

 Your last command, " forget me," will it not 

 Sink deeply down within my inmost soul? 

 Forget thee ! ay, forgetfulness will be 

 A mercy to me. By the many nights 

 When I have wept for that I dared not sleep 

 A dream had made me live my woes again, 

 Acting my wretchedness, without the hope 

 My foolish heart still clings to, tho' that hope 

 Is like the opiate, which may lull awhile, 

 Then wake to double torture ; by the days 

 Pass'd in lone watching a'nd in anxious fears, 

 When a breath sent the crimson to my cheek, 

 Like the red gushing of a sudden wound ; 

 By all the careless looks, and careless words, 

 Which have to me been like the scorpion's 



stinging: 



By happiness blighted, and by thee, for ever ; 

 By thy eternal work of wretchedness ; 

 By all my wither'd feelings ruined health, 

 Crush'd hopes, and rifled heart, I will forget 



thee! 



Alas ! my words are vanity. Forget thee ! 

 Thy work of wasting is too surely done. 

 The April shower may pass and be forgotten, 

 The rose fall, and one fresh spring in its place ; 

 And thus it may be with light, summer love. 

 It was not so with mine : it did not spring, 

 Like the bright colour on an evening cloud, 

 Into a moment's life, brief beautiful ; 

 Not amid lighted halls, when flatteries 

 Steal on the ear like dew upon the rose. 

 As, soft as soon dispersed, as quickly pass'd ; 

 But you first call'd my woman's feelings forth, 

 And taught me love ere I had named Love's 



name. 



M.M. Xcw Serif a. VOL. III. No. 1,3. 



She flung asids the scroll, as it had part 

 In her great misery. Why should she write? 

 What could she write? Her woman's pride for- 

 bade 



To let him look upon her heart, and see 

 It was an utter ruin ; and cold words. 

 And scorn, x and slight, that may repay his own, 

 Were as a foreign language, to whose sound 

 She might not frame her utterance. Down she 



bent 



Her head upon an arm, so white, that tears 

 Seem'd but the natural melting of its snow. 

 Touch'd by the flush'd cheek's crimson ; yet life- 

 blood 

 Less wrings in shedding than such tears as those. 



And this then, is Love's ending ! it is like 



The history of some fair southern clime. 



Hot fires are in the bosom of the earth, 



And thewarm'd soil puts on its thousand flower*, 



Its fruits of gold, summer's regality, 



And sleep and odours float upon the air : 



At length, the subterranean element 



Breaks forth its secret dwelling-place, and lays 



All waste before it ; the red lava stream 



Sweeps like the pestilence; and that which wa 



A garden in its colours and its breath, 



Fit for the princess of a fairy tale, 



Is as a desert, in whose burning sands, 



And ashy waters, who is there can trace 



A sign a memory of its former beauty ? 



Had he not long read 



Her heart's hush'd secret in the soft dark eye, 

 Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek, 

 Colouring all crimson at his lightest look ? 

 This is the truth : His spirit wholly turn'd 

 To stern ambition's dreams, to that fierce strife 

 Which leads to life's high places, and reck'd not 

 What lovely flowers might perish in his path. 



Mathematical and Astronomical Tables, 

 for the use of Students of Mathematics, fyc. 

 fyc. by William Galbraith, M.A. Oliver 

 and Boyd, Edinburgh. " The application 

 of the mathematical sciences to practical pur- 

 poses, has of late made great advances in 

 accuracy and precision, the perfection also 

 which astronomical and geological operations 

 have reached, and the extreme delicacy of 

 construction to which instruments have been 

 carried, require correspondent improvements 

 in the methods of computation and reduc- 

 tion, and therefore, coHvenient tables, of 

 moderate expense, must be of great value to 

 those engaged either in the details of practice 

 or the business of instruction. There are 

 two classes of tnbles chiefly IH use ; one 

 either larger and expensive, or attached to 

 expensive works, and whick, therefore, can 

 with difficulty be procured by the generality 

 of purchasers; the other so limited and de- 

 fective as to be totally unfit for constant 

 reference. It has been my study to hold a 

 middle course between these two extremes. 

 By making such additions to the usual 

 tables as to render their application more 

 easy without great! y increasing their bulk ; 

 hy selecting the most useful from larger 



Z S 



