56 6—Ct® 
fastery of Augustinians, at Winsheim, in 
the province of Overyssel, were desirous 
of erecting a windmill, not far from 
Zwoll; but a neighbouring lord endea- 
voured to prevent them, declaring that 
the wind in that district belonged to him. 
The monks, unwilling to give up the 
point, had recourse to the Bishop of 
Utrecht, under whose jurisdiction the 
province had continued since the tenth 
century. The bishop, highly incensed 
against the pretender, who wished to 
Original Poetry. 
[Jan. 1, 
usurp his authority, affirmed that’ the 
wind of the whole province belonged to 
him, and gave the convent express per- 
tnission to erect a windmill wherever they 
thought proper. Y 
DANES, SUCCESS OF. 
This is usually, and with the greatest 
probability, ascribed to the male popula- 
tion of the nation bein exhausted in 
monks and clergy; and the prevalence of 
superstition in the mass of the people. 
a a nt nn 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
oe 
TO MISS MURPHY, °< 
AGED FOURTEEN, AUTHORESS OF A 
RECENT WORK ON TREES AND PLANTS. 
SONNET, 
Hale early favourite of the Nine, 
Angelic maid of eye divine! 
By Love adorn’d with locks of gold, 
Unspotted print from beauty’s mould ; 
Isee thee walk by Nature’s side, 
At once her pupil and her pride; 
Prudence before, Religion near, 
Say, then, why springs the Poet’s tear? 
Alas! behind—unknown to thee, 
The Passions, like a foaming sea, 
Roll on—a restless, ruthless band, 
To sweep thee from liie’s peaceful strand: 
Cling to thy rock, ’tis Virtue’s tow’r, 
Nor fear the storm and rattling show’r. 
Georce CUMBERLAND, 
Bristol, Dec. 11, 1808. 
—_— a 
TO DEATH. 
t COME not, Death! with vain, untimely 
fears, 
Urin-shadowing cypress and the midnight 
dew, ; 
To offer at thy shrine, 
And-deprecate thy wrath, 
I bring not Fear, in Frenzy’s robe array’d, 
So own the ruling terrors ef thy name, 
And feed thy cruel pride, 
With murmurs of despair. 
For what art thou, O Death! that reason’s 
; eye 
Should ARE the menace of thy threat’ning 
might 5 
Or turn upon thy form 
The gaze of wild dismay ? 
©r why should terror arm thy uprais’d 
hand 
With shafts of anger, and the murderei’s 
rage 5 ‘ 
And throw around thy brows 
The lightning’s livid fires ? 
= 3 
Were life the limit of the Spirit's course, 
The grave the barrier of her brief cureer, 
Beyond whose loathsome bourn 
No star of being gleam’d: 
Had Nature to the winds of Heav’n pro} 
clain’d 
No bright reversion that awaits the soul, 
When bursting from her chains, 
She seeks her kindred skies: 
Did not Religion from thy misked brow 
Pluck the vain shadow of a mimic crown, 
And lift the veiling cowl, 
N To_shew a Seraph’s smile: 
Then, Death, I'd hail thee monarch! and 
thy shrine 
Should hear my vows, and bear my proffer’d 
bribes, 
To win the light of Heav’n 
One moment to my gaze! 
I'dclasp the breast that loves me, and would 
swear, 
In madness, that thy unrelenting hand 
Never, with ruthless mighr, 
Should rend Affection’s bands ! 
But since Religion’s clear, prevailing voice, . 
With words of mercy, tells the trembling 
soul 
That Heav’n has Death ordain’d 
It’s minister of love! 
Bing flow’rs, bring essence from the living 
rose, 
And strew around the sickly couch of Death, 
From whence the Spirit bounds 
On her immortal wings. 
Be this thy triumph and thy glorious boast, 
Ange! of Death! that at thine awful call 
The shadowing veil is rent, 
Time’s fleeting structure falls. 
The seraph vision of the glowing mind, 
The hope of Genius, and the soul’s desire, 
Start into light and form, 
Freed by thy transient pow’r ! 
Birmingham, ‘Pom 
STANZAS, 
