528 Original 



•f circumstances nliich they call cli- 

 mate, have wroHijhtall these changes in 

 the human form. I do not, however, 

 think them capable of explaining the 

 differences which exist among the na- 

 tions. There is an internal physical 

 cause of the greatest moment, which 

 has scarcely heen mentioned. This is 

 the generative influence. If, by the act 



Poetry. [Jan. 1, 



ot modelling the constitution in the 

 embryo and foetns, a predisposition to 

 gout, madness, scrofula, and consump- 

 tion, may be engendered, we may ra- 

 tionally conclude, with the sagacious 

 D' Azara, that the procreative power may 

 also shape the features, tinge the skin, 

 and give other peculiarities lo man. 



S. L. MiTCHlLL. 



ORIGINAL POETRY. 



POESY; AN Ode.* 



WHEN seeks tlie weary nurse to close 

 A wakeful infant's eye. 

 The well-remember'd cadence flows 



Of some soft lullaby : 

 Man's earliest hour is sooth'd by thee^ 

 Friend of tlie infant, Po e s y . 

 When seeks an anxious sire to sway 



The purpose of his bon. 

 In smooth and metrical array 



Paternal ethics run : 

 Parent and child are bound to thee. 

 Friend of the stripling, Poesy. 



When happy in his ardent suit 



A lover seeks to prove. 

 He m:ngles with the warm salute 



Melodious words of love ; 

 Much is his passion bound to theCt 

 Friend of the lover, Poesy. 

 In every country, every clime. 



Which saw the morn of man. 

 His efforts to depicture time 



W;th Poesy began : 

 The firbt rude sketch ot history 

 Lived in thy numbers. Poesy. 



When fathers of an early age 



Would have tht truth endure. 

 They gave to Memory's faithful page 



The hymn chastised and pure; 

 Sweet flow'd our prime theology, 

 Taught by the lip of Po E s V . 

 The sage of Samos lov'd to roam 



In search of wisdom bold, 

 And brought the sacred treasure home 



En wrapt in verse of gold ; 

 Then Greece, delighted, clung to thee. 

 Wisdom, adorn'd by Poesy. 



The purest strain Devotion knows 



To Solyma belongs. 

 Though sweet Judca's incense rose. 



More sweetly rose her songs : 

 Sweet rang the harp when struck by thee, 

 Priestess of Heaven ! high Poesy ! 

 If gold and jewels lend their aid 



'i'o deck an idcl god ; 

 Or Truth's sincerer vow is paid 



On Nature's simple sod : 



• Never before published, and not contained 

 in the volume of poems by the same au- 

 thor, which hath recently appeared under 

 the title of '* A ffnali /mm tic IFU' 

 dtrntss,'^ 



Falsehood and Truth are bound to thee, 

 Devotion-breathing Po e s v . 



The Savage who, contented, dines 



On acorns of the wood ; 

 The Sybarite who still repines 



Mid store of costly food .' 

 Delighted each to dwell with thee, 

 Each loves alike fair Poesy. 



The carter pacing near his team. 



The milkmaid o'er her pail, ' 



Carol the rude heroic theme, 



Or soft domestic tale : 

 Brown Labour smiles when cheer'd by thee,- 

 Friend of the rustic, Poesy. 



When every beam deserts the sky, 



Hope's every anchor fails. 

 Her balm if Poesy supply 



That lenient balm avails : 

 Much are the wretched bound to thee. 

 Friend of the friendless. Poesy. 



When with his years his pleasures wane. 



When eve embrowns the cell, 

 The weary mortal loves again 



With Poesy to dwell : 

 As youth, so age, is bound to thee. 



Friend of our nature, Poesy. 



When into being spake the word 



This universal frame, 

 The morning-stars, with glad accord. 



Creative Love proclaim : 

 Nature's first debt was paid by thee. 

 First-born of Nature, Poesy. 



W'hen suns, when systems, fade away. 



And they must fade e'er long, 

 The business of eternal day 



Will be eternal song : 

 Exhaustless then thy theme shall be, 

 Heav«n-born, immortal. Poesy. 



ACCOLA MoNTIS-AMaNI. 



Coalbiookdate. 



THE FAREWELL. 



FROM AN UNPUBLISHED NARRATIVE RO- 

 MANCE, INTKKSPliKSED WITH POBTRV. 



T UC Y, adieu, and oh ! may never 

 -■-^ Anguish mar thy bosom's peace ; 

 Though with thee I part for ever, 

 Still to love I ne'er can cease, 



Thinkest thou that I can hate him, 

 Him the youth thy heart approves ? 



No I I rather would elate him 

 With the hope tbat Lucy lov<s. 



Not 



