48 
Do ye point out the path yourselves 
pursue? 
None is, who turns the page or turns 
_ the sod, free ; 
From the foul moat that dims our doubt- 
ful view. 
*Tis dark delusion all. We are an odd fry. 
Thus, musing o’er his shovel, spoke Old 
Bob Codfrey. 
‘Hence, clam’rous casuists, with your vi- 
sions vain ! 
Hence all that Hume, and Bayle, and 
Berkley, wrote ! 
Or, if one solitary trath remain 
Ot all ye triampli’d in and all ye tanght, 
Tis a sweet flow’ret from the wilds of 
' thought. 
In vain do priests the holy temple enter, 
“In vain their themes with sacred sa- - 
pienee fraught ; 
Religion scorns the g gaudy garb that’s lent 
her 
By the proud mitred prelate, or the de- 
muse dissenter. . 
“Es, the poor worm that coils beneath 
| }omy/!tread, 
Crush’d as he is by all the clods that 
tumble; 
Hung. as his life i is by the slenderest thread, 
ee not philosophers, shall man humble ; 
» Man! ‘that shall soon be clods for him to 
~ eramible. 
Avaunt, ye visionaries! dream of fame,— 
Dream of stability,—and, dreaming, 
stumble; ~ 
Perish for:an imperishable name. 
Heroes that vanquish’d worlds the lowly 
» worm shall-tame. 
“Perchance, these worthless particles of 
cla 
- Once form’d a Cesar ora a Philip’ '$ SON 5 
They now shall form a carrot or a pea, 
‘That man, perhaps a beast, shall feed 
_ Upon. 
‘ Was it for this their victories they won? 
For this the bloody path of conquest trod? 
‘ That prodigies presag’d his race was run, 
And this claim’d kindred to his patron god; 
E’en so, great Wellington, my sons may 
sow thy sod. 
s¢ Source and receptacle of man, O-earth! 
Down tly kindred tomy breathing dust; 
From ws I've drain’d existence from my 
nth 5 
To thee, my elements, return I must, 
Unclaim’d by rebel monument or bust. 
Een he. who boasts colestial . lays -his 
lyre on, fgust, 
And moves the pensive soul with pleasing 
Shall lie with me, cold as my shovel’s iron; 
Yes, he, the mortal great immortal bard, 
Lord Byron. ' 
“ Brief to eternity ’s the longest span. 
An insect flutters in the blaze of day, 
And dies within the hour his life began. 
The morning dew-drop sparkling \ on the 
spray 
Original Poetry. 
[Aug. 1, 
Ere noon mounts up to meet its parent 
ray. 
Thus man th’ aspiring spirit leaves to rot, 
Though round his temples nee th’ un- 
fading bay. 
Poets and poems too shall go to pot, 
Coleridge, Wordsworth, Laureat Southey, 
and Sir Walter Scott. 
“The varying seasons bring the various 
flower ; 
~The with’ring tnlip sees the lily bloom; = 
Successive blossoms fall i in painted shower; 
Successive roses fling the rich perfume 4 
But droop ail flow’ rets in the brumal 
gloom. 
As once. Anacreon, now Moore ‘is love 
t all; 
Yet his sweet odés shall not avert his 
. doom, 
Pale Death will tap at palace and at 
hovel,” 
He said, and spitting to his hands, ida 
at his shovel. 
“ Herschell, that count’st the ecuned ca” 
, nopy! } 
For thee the spirit of the midnight star 
Did trim her pale lamp, glimm’ring in the 
sky 
Through darkling regions as she rolled 
her car. 
Thou; that foretell’st when comets from 
afar 
Shall seek our sun, and where they floating 
‘Toam ; 
Mark’st wand’ring worlds in orbits ree 
gular, 
And the fixt millions in the sparkling dome, 
Tliy name and orb shall shine:—thon, 
sink into the tomb. 
“See unbought patriots abuse a bribe 
(As knaves sptempted spurn a’ luckier 
knave), 
And stoutly curse the ministerial tribe, 
Yet all.their vaunted virtue shall not save 
Them from the foul conmpéian of, the 
grave. 
E’en here the sacred dust of noble Hammond 
May mix with ashes of the meanest slave; 
And Hunt,’ though rotten C*stl*1**gh he 
d—n on, 
Shall also rot. “All, saith the preacher, all 
is gammon. 
iY Glory! thou glitt’ring phantom of the 
mind 
That dost delude the good, the Wise, 
the brave, 
Thou art a bubble buoyant on ehsiwind, 
Transiest as moon-beams on the glassy 
'wavesioi’ & ~" * Tlave. 
Or billows’ ‘bursting on the ithbiad ‘they 
‘Vain pomp and glory of this World’ ate 
‘trouble! 
Stich are the baubles then for which 
they rave. — 
*Tis twelve o’clock ; my crock begins to 
bubble,” 
He said, and, ’ should’ring his tool, home- 
wards began to hobble. 
PROCEEDINGS 
