528 
, How well I remember the days 
‘That are lapsed in the circle of time, 
When I was a plant in thy rays, 
And was taught from my youth to my 
prime ; 
Thy smile was the source of my pleasure, 
‘Thy teaching the joy of my care, 
Thy language my counsel, thy wisdom my 
treasure, ¢ 
I was proud with thy pupils to share. 
What feelings of grateful return 
I owe to my guardian and guide; 
Thy method was easy to learn,— 
It was kindly and aptly applied: 
How rich are the fruits I lave cherish’d! 
They serve me for food and 1epast ; 
While fashions have flicker’d, and follies 
have perish’d, 
My thonghts will be sweet to the last. 
Vet I cannot but fly to my lyre, 
Tho’ long it hath slumber’d so still! 
And my fingers give tone to the wire, 
As 1 look up Immensity’s hill: 
Thou art risen to rest in the heaven, 
‘Thou art pure in the essence of light, 
Thou hast won thy reward, which is holily 
given, 
And secur'd to thy glory and sight. 
How lov’d round the Deity’s throne, 
How peacefully blest in His beam, 
Are they who have usefully shone 
In the course of mortality’s stream ; 
Whose precepts are noble and charming, 
Examples so touching and true, 
That the heart is improved as the mind is 
in forming 
In the virwes and sciences too. 
To encourage the innocent heart 
In youth’s garden of flowers and weeds, 
I would offer my feminine part, 
And select Immortality’s seeds: 
The term of Time’s years is so fleeting, 
Of Eternity’s era’s so long, 
While the pulse of my bosom is dyingly 
beating, 
- Death’s notes will have life in my song. 
Islingion ; Sept, 1822. 
—_—— 
LINES 
ON A FAVOURITE DOG NAMED BUSY. 
By Dr. T. FORSTER. 
In mortem canis. 
Vos o Camenz carmina eburneo 
Sonate plectro, dulcia qu novos 
Luctus levent, maestos benigno 
Docte animos recreare cantu. 
Canem maligno funere mortuum 
Ploremus omnes, jam cithara decet 
Cartare dulci quem sepulchro 
Perpetuus sopor urget imo. 
Namque hic solebat sepius ad focum 
Jacere, lingua cnm domini fovet 
Ipse manum, swpe et magisiri 
Tum lateri sonuére plausus. 
Original Poetry. ° 
[ Jan. 15 
Fidelis omni tempore vixerit 
’ Atque occupatus si nihil egerit, 
Latransque nocturmo sonore, 
Non timuit domus alta fures. 
Fortuna sevis pectora calcibus 
Tam cara fregit! Quid mihi sit dolor 
Terram relinquens jam beatus 
Elysiis potietur hortis. 
i 
STANZAS, 
Tuov who dost shine in Fashion’s sphere, 
And sport in Fortune’s ring ; 
And in the circle gay appear,— 
To thee,—to thee I sing, 
Not all the precious shining gems, 
From rich Golconda’s Jand ; 
Nor bead that on thy kerchief beams, 
Nor pearl upon thy hand ; 
Nor all the trash of far Peru, 
Nor the cornelian gay ;— 
Can to thy form a gift bestow, 
Nor pimples take away. 
They do their beauties all retain, 
Within themselves they’re found ; 
But not in thee,—thou can’st not gain 
A beauty from the ground. 
Steal not the essence of a flower, 
Nor pilfer Nature’s sweet, 
To suit the sense for one short hour,— 
To be a counterfeit. 
Rob not a rose of its perfume, 
To sprinkle o’er thy vest ; 
Nor spoil the violet’s spreading bloom, 
Nor let its leaf be prest. 
The queen of flowers for such a use 
Think’st thou she was design’d ; 
Shedding her odours most profuse, 
To please a vacant mind? 
Could I but see the secret oil 
Within the casket hid, 
How should I from it all recoil, 
And close the painted lid. 
The toilet’s lavatory store, 
To make thy skin look fair ; 
With musk, from India’s eastern shore, 
And each extraction rare. 
Arabia cannot boast of smells 
More various than thy room ; 
And e’en thy handkerchief, it tells 
Thou art all o’er perfume, 
Take not the vermeil for thy cheek, 
To tinge a pallid face ; 
It cannot make thy features sleek, 
Nor lend a simple grace. 
But may thy decorations he 
Affection, wisdom, truth ; 
These shall prove ornaments te thee 
In age, as wel! as youth. 
CryAe 
NOVELTIES 
