108 CRITICAL NOTICES OP N»W PUBLICATIONS. 



and whose indignant denouncements of the evils attendant upon en- 

 tering into the service of 



" Avarice, that demon bold, 

 "Who ranges earth with never-dying force," 



lack little, if anything, of the nerve, the pathos, or the soul-arous- 

 ing power, of the mighty " Corn Law Rhymer." Yet listen to the 

 tones in which, turning from such heart-rending scenes, he pours 

 forth an invitation which no one should resist : — 



" Come thou to quiet fields, and meditate with me : 



Look, as thou wanderest on thy gentle way, 

 Into thine own heart's temple, and within 



Its holiest veil some solitary ray 

 Of beauty, beaming through the mists of sin, 

 Shall gladden thy new being, as the din 



Of courts and camps, in lawless riot's hour, 

 Hath never gladdened it ; and thou shalt win 



A nobler pleasure for thyself, than power 

 And wealth can ever find in passion's harlot-bower. 



Thou shalt converse with beauty-beaming spring. 



The glorious infancy of nature's life ; 

 And thou shalt hear glad insects murmuring 



O'er the green earth, with all her blessings rife ; 



No voice discordant, and no greater strife 



Than amorous birds for some fair mate contending; 



Or bleating lambs, unprescient of the knife. 

 With their white dams among the mountains wending ; 

 All that is good on earth with thine own spirit blending. 



So shall we gain health's rich inheritance, 

 And ruddy vigour in our bodies grow ; 



Not the flushed fever of intemperance. 

 The bloated epicure's unwholesome glow, 

 But the calm current in our veins shall flow 



Pure as the fountain which its blood supplies ; 

 Slumber shall hover o'er our couches low, 



Blessing frail nature with fresh energies. 

 While troublous dreams shall flee to sensual sleeper's eyes. 



Th' etherial intellect — that brighter part 

 Of dark humanity — wax brighter still ; 



Nor indolence, nor melancholy swart. 

 Fetter the freedom of the wearied will ; 

 Th' imprison'd God within us holier thrill 



Through every sense that binds us yet to clay ; 

 And inspiration from her sacred hill 



Descend, to light us on our placid way 

 With holy prayers by night, and poesy by day."* 



In Leeds also, as well as in Birmingham, the female muse is 

 raising her softer, but not less persuasive, voice in behalf of the 



* "The Age of Gold," in Cyril, and other Poems, by George Wilson, 

 Leeds, 1834. 



