578 
lounger: his Domestic Anecdotes of the 
French Nation excited a higher inte- 
rest, and, while they amused the idler, 
afforded ample matter of reflection to 
the philosopher ; his Vaurien has pro- 
duced a swarm of worthless imitations : 
but it would be as absurd to blame 
Mr. D’Israeli for the trash of Miss Ha- 
milton and Mr. G. Walker, &c. as to 
accuse the Nile, because of the reptiles 
that breed in its slime. His romances 
displayed fancy and feeling. 
‘Three stories are contained in the 
present elegant volume. ‘The Carder 
and the Carrier, which is the first, is so 
absurd in story, that no talents could 
make it interesting. The girl sportively 
rubs her lover’s teeth with what she 
mistakes for a leaf of sage, but it proves 
to be a poisonous plant, and instantly 
kills him. She is arrested as a mur- 
derer, and led by a crowd, with the 
judge, to the place where the body lies: 
there she tells her tale, and then 
«*« Bowing her head, the plant of poisonous 
breath 
She sucked, and blest the vegetable death. 
5 bo ee thro’ her veins the flying poisons dart, 
nd one cold tremor chills her beating 
heart. 
She kneels, and winds her arms round Pas- 
quil’s breast, 
There, as t'were life to touch, she creeps to 
rest ; 
On him once more her opening eyes she raised, 
The lizht died on them as she fondly gazed; 
With quick short breath, catching at lile, she 
tried 
To kiss his lips, and as she kissed, she died. 
“© O did the Muse but know the learned name 
To blast that fair-deceiving plant to Fame! 
O never may it drink the golden light 
With laughing tints—the garden's hypocrite ! 
Ye colder botanists the plant describe, 
Gaze on the spectre-form, and class the tribe! 
But ye sweet-souled, whose pensive bosoms 
glow 
With the soft images of amorous woe, 
From ye the Muse one tender tear would 
claim ; 
One shudder, at the plant withou! a name !" 
We know not whether this tale be ori- 
ginal, or versified from some foreign 
author. 
The second is the well-known story of 
Cominge. The third a taleaddressed to 
a Sybarite. Anasillis places a statue of 
himself made by Praxiteles in the cha- 
racter of Love, in Aglaia’s bower, that 
se. may learn love fromadoration. The 
scheme succeeds— 
POETRY. 
. 
«« All day entranced she sits ; her ** sweet- 
liest” care i 
To look and sigh—and evening met her there. 
And oft she talked, she vowed, complained, 
carest, 
Sighed on its face, and leant upon its breast. 
«« Meanwhile protraction charms th’ ena- 
moured boy ; 
To raise enjoyment lingers to enjoy. ; 
Patient in pleasure forged th’ enduring chain ; 
Who wins too easy wins to lose again. 
He takes the statue from the maiden’s bower, 
To try if absence breaks its magic power ; 
Since female vows in absence will decay ; 
Slaves in an hour are constant for a day. 
«« But not Aglaia thus—her heart sincere 
By love created claimed th’ eternal year. 
She comes—'tis gone !—what dear enchant- | 
& ment stole 
In the soft moanings of her love-worn soul. 
From her cold fingers fell each dewy flower ; 
She shuddered, in the solitary bower. 
Her fond regrets, her beaut veiled in tears 
Now touched Anasillis—the youth appears 
With morn’s first beam ; like love the youth — 
is drest ; 
Stretched in the bower he seems by sleep op- 
prest. 
She comes—she starts! she gazes, trembles 
near— 
"Tis Love! (she hardly breathes) the god is 
here ! 
Stept from his pedestal, a breathing form ! 
Marble so loved relents, and like myself is 
warm. 
Ah, not in vain th’ ideal form I loved, 
Not vaiu the silent tears, a picture moved !— — 
Stilly she tred, and all unbreathing gazed, 
Then tremulously kissed the hand she raised. 
The virgin kiss imparts the finest fame, 
‘Thesweetsensation trembling thro’ her frame ; 
Nor quits the hand, but half delirious takes 
‘I'o press it to her heart—and Love awakes ! 
‘She kneels—can anger in that sofiness 
dwell? 
Once having seen thee, aust T bid farewell? 
Is love a crime ? then half the guilt be thine, 
lame thy seducing powers, thine eyes divine! 
‘Think ere thou shakest me from thy gentle 
arm, 
How small the triumph o'er a virgin form ! 
Anasillis in fond entrancement hears, 
Bends o'er the nymph, and kissed away her 
fears. 
Then thus—an innocent deceit forgive ; 
Smile on thy picture and the form shall live. 
«© She then, * unskilled, how features are 
abroad,’ 
First of thy race, to me thou art a god ! 
How oft when idle fancy idle roved 
For uncreated shapes— twas thee I loved! 
And if I may not mate with thee, I die ; 
Oh, be not twice a statue to my sigh! 
«« With meek surrender,and a timorous glance, 
The boy, each soft retiring grace enchants ; 
