458 
And when my Lover, weary, 
To our woodland couch would creepy 
Jsang the song that pleas’d him, 
And crown’d his lids with sleep, 
My kindred mich would wonder, 
The white man’s love to see ; 
And Otaheitan maidens 
‘Would often envy me. 
{ 
Vet when my white Love’s forehead 
Would sadden with despair, 
Lknew not why the cold drops 
Should start and quiver there. 
T knew not why in slumber 
His heart should tremble so; 
Or lock’d in love’s embraces, 
~~ How doubt and fear could grow. 
»Tili o’er the bounding billow 
' The angry chieftains came ; 
They seized my wretched lover, 
They mock’d my anguish’d claims 
¥n iron bands they bound him, 
_. I flew his fate to share ; 
They tore him from my clasping, 
And threw me to despair. 
Are white men unrelenting, 
So far to cross the sea ; 
‘Their chieftain’s wrongs revenging, 
To tear my love from me? 
Monthly Retrospect of the Fine Arts. 
‘ “ el 
aa 
[ 
[Dee. tj 
340 Re (Caen yet S487? 
Are Otaheitan bosoms, aos Ne i 
No refuge for the brave 5 tee ay 
Can exile nor repentance 
A wretchéd lover save ? 
No more the Heiva’s dancing, 
My mournful steps will suit; _ 
As when to thé torch-light glancing, 
And beating to the flute.. 
No more my braided tresses _ 
With smiling flow’rs shall bloom 5- 
Nor blossom rich in beauty j 
Shall lend its sweet perfumes 
All by the sounding ocean 
I sit me down anti mourn, 
In hopes his chiefs may pardon himy 
And speed my Love’s return, 
Can he forget his Peggy, 
That soothed his cares to rest 3 
Can he forget the baby, - - > 
That smiles upon her breast? 
I wish-the fearful warning ; 
Would bind my woes in sleep? 
And I were a-littie bird, to chase’ 
My lover o’er the deep! 
Or if my wounded spirit 
In the death-canoe would rove, 
I'd bribe the wind and pitying wavey 
To speed me to my Love} 
Birmingham. 
* 
R M. J. 
MONTHLY RETROSPECT OF THE FINE ARTS. | 
The Use of all New Prints, and Communications of Articles of Intelligence, are requested: 
a 
The Grave’; a Poem by Blair, illustrated by 
Twelve Etchings, executed by Louis Schiavo~ 
netti, from the original Inventions of William 
Blake. 1808. 
HE series of engravings which is 
given under this title, in illdstration 
of the well known poem of The Grave, 
forms one of the most singular works ever 
published in England. In respect to the 
executive merits of the designs, there is 
considerable correctness and knowledge 
of form in the drawing of the various 
figures; the grouping is frequently pleas- 
ing, and the composition well arranged ; 
some of them have even an air of ancient 
art, which would not have disgraced the 
Roman school. In the ideal part, or that 
which is supposed to connect them with 
the poem, there is a wildness of fancy 
and eccentricity, that leave the poet ata 
very considerable distance. Some are, 
perhaps, exceptionable; such. as, The 
Soul exploring the Recesses of the Grave, 
represented by a female figure bearing 
asmall light in her hand; and the Soul 
rejoining the Body, under the same ap- 
pearance of a female rushing downwards 
to meet the embraces of the body which 
she had lett. It is almost needless to 
say, these are images, or conceptions ra- 
ther, which admit om,o just graphic re- 
presentations. Deai)i’s Door is the best 
of the series. ‘ Put Lary 
The author of these designs is an ev- 
graver of no mean talents in his art, and 
is said to receive the conceptions of them 
from “ Visions bright,” which, like th 
Muse of Milton— © 
S¢ Visit his slumbers nightly, or when morn 
Purples the East.” - .: 
‘A portrait of Mr, Blake is prefixed to 
the publication, etched with spirit, from 
a picture hy Philips. The head is finish- 
ed with the graver, and is an excellent 
specimen of art, in the utmost degree 
¢reditable to Schiavonetti, by whose hand 
itis executed, The engraving indeed is, 
throughout the whole series, highly com- 
mendable. The work is accompanied 
by awarm aid eloquent panegyrtic from 
the pen of Fuscli, the learned keeper of 
the Royal Academy, yt 
! “ ** Portrait 
